Brett Favre Is a Big Baby

Can you believe this guy? Brett Favre is such a hypochondriac. Those of you who watched the hated Dallas Cowpokes defeat the noble Green Bay Packers last night watched the all-too-familiar sight of Brett Favre leaving the game because of a boo-boo. It seems like every 5 or 10 years, this guy has some excuse or another to ride the pines. What a cry-baby.


Also, the officials from that game are now going to hell, and the Bears still suck. Other than that how did you enjoy the play, Mrs. Lincoln?


Incidentally, I watched the first half of the game in a bar at a location where I was nominally attending a meeting. A woman there told me, despite the fact that I hadn't asked and didn't really care, that she had recently had a nose-job. Of course, I'm able to relate because I've had hand-jobs and blow-jobs, and I found them enjoyable. I don't think I would like a nose-job, but, then again, I'm not a woman. I don't like shopping either, but, if your thing is buying stuff or having a nose in your stuff, good for you. Apparently, this kind of discussion is inappropriate for a meeting.

How to Build a Time Machine

I have been working on a new invention. It is called a "time machine." No, it is not a machine that tells you the time. That device is called a "clock."

Rather, my machine allows the user to think as though he/she/transgender exists at different coordinates in time. Perhaps it should more accurately be called a "time-transfer machine."

Please don't get hung up on the name. We can call it a "jack-off drive" for all I care about the name. Actually, a "jack-off drive" would be fairly easy to market.

So, as I was saying, my new "jack-off drive" is revolutionary, and everybody needs one. I can't go into the engineering details of the "jack-off drive" (TM), but, let's just say that it makes an otherwise lengthy commute into a beautiful, cataclysmic, ecstatic umph.

Well, now I've lost interest in whatever I was doing.

Thanks

Well, happy thanksgiving all.

My family has this "tradition" of reminiscing during family get-togethers. I suspect that this is a common affliction. For some reason, my nieces and my children delight in hearing stories about the rare times when I was naughty as a child. Both of my sisters chime in with their favorite tales about when I threw them down the staircase or convinced them that the walls in my room were filled with candy.

I just take the punishment and chalk it up to Karma.

Here's hoping that you are able to ridicule your loved ones this holiday. Give thanks to those that keep us humble.

2008 Voters Guide

With the 2008 Presidential election really heating up, we've been asked to create a more sophisticated analysis about who should receive the coveted FU endorsement:
If you are able to follow this flowchart from beginning to end, then you will note that there is a high likelihood that the Republican Party nominee will get the FU nod and wink. If the internets are any reflection of reality, this should mean Ron Paul will win the FU vote. As it was written.

UPDATE: Consider that Hillary as president would reflect 28 consecutive years with either a Bush or a Clinton in the White House. We can only hope that Jeb or Neil gets his shit together in time to carry the lineage to Roger or Chelsea.

Forewarning

When I'm a geezer, I shall wear red wool socks,
And sleeveless dirty t-shirts
And a fashionable Rustywhear apron
If I happen to be burning some meat.
I will drink whisky, and brandy old-fashioneds
And tequila, but probably not gin,
And the occasional 116 oz table-tapper
To make up for the sobriety of my sleep.
I will vomit every third day of drinking
For no good reason but alcohol poisoning
And something about pancreatitis
And the poor condition of my liver.
I shall sleep in the flowers of other people’s gardens
Until they poke me with a stick or other sharp object
And ask me to leave promptly and peaceably
The authorities already on their way.
I will search out free tacos and other happy hours
And sing show tunes on the airplane
And play my guitar in public places
Despite the public’s strong preference that I not.
But for now I must wear a nice jacket,
And a relatively clean shirt, and pants,
And set a good example for the children
About how to keep from falling down.
But then again, after they’re sleeping,
Or when I get away for a Rusty,
Shall I not sample the appetizer
Of my geezer days to come.

Ron Paul Support Increasing Among Sexually Normal

If only there was a way to make an otherwise insignificant boob into an instantly recognizeable celebrity about whom the public can't inquire enough. I've got it. Ron Paul should make a steamy "home-made" sex tape, leak it out, and then try to stop everybody from watching it.

This tried and true technique worked for no less celebrities than Pamela Anderson, Paris Hilton, Kim Kardashian, and Screech.

I'm not sure whether any previous Presidential candidates have done this, though I believe that Millard Fillmore once infamously sent a rather ribald telegraph transmission to the "wrong" operator. You could get away with that sort of thing if you belonged to the "Know-Nothing Party."

Anyway, back to Ron Paul's enormous support, why not wield it to his advantage? After all, if the public can't determine whom it should adore based upon pornographic home-made videos, then this just isn't the America that I've grown to love.

Is the Looking Glass Half Empty?

As a result of my recent infatuation with ExposingSatanism.org, I ran a search to find out where else the site was discussed. Not surprisingly, I found the site of a critic intent upon revealing ExposingSatanism.org to be written by an ignorant, bigoted blow-hard.

Sounds about right, I thought. But let's check on the critic's credentials.

Kerr Cuhulain the author of this article, is known to the mundane world as Detective Constable Charles Ennis. Ennis, a former child abuse investigator, is the author of several articles on child abuse investigation that appeared in Law & Order Magazine. Better known to the Pagan community by his Wiccan name, Kerr Cuhulain, Ennis was the first Wiccan police officer to go public about his beliefs 28 years ago. Kerr is now the Preceptor General of Officers of Avalon.

Right.

The aforementioned critique of ExposingSatan.org is contained on the site The Witches Voice which claims to be the place for neo-pagan news and networking on the net since 1997. I see. The first story I read from that site provides the details of a traditional event in Devon, England where flaming barrels of burning tar are carried on people's backs for some religious reason that is not altogether clear. This year, this resulted in only 36 people being treated for burns.

I'm thinking about closing the First Unichurck. It seems kind of superfluous given, you know, reality.

Foiled

I've got it.






The foil could be a pedophiliac roller derby player.





He will be surrounded by demonic children courtesy of the Krypt Kiddies/.




Good work everyone.

If by "foil" we mean Yin v. Yan, perhaps this is more appropriate

"Anti-OneEar"

Motion to the floor, Haebeus Corpus, Legal Mumbojumbo, etc. All voices shall be heard and duly ignored.

A Motion to the Floor: Nomination for Official Foil of Unichurck

Please submit additional nominations as appropriate, and let the hanging chads swing by their respective nooses.

Witches

I was intrigued by the fact that, out of the myriad of issues explored on the Sataneering site, Doc Bok discovered and immediately focused on the issue of women with penises. Where did he find this? Why does this hold such fascination for him? Is this just a wild fantasy which Satan ejaculated into his mind? Or is there something more bizarre going on?

Seeking to solve this mystery, I explored the witchcraft section of ExposingSatan.org. My first question, what do witches believe?

One common belief is that nature is to be worshiped and is sacred. Many look to the whole earth in general as god. Others look outward to the stars and planets. Others incorporate everything into their worship. Witchcraft gives one the freedom to pick and choose who is divine and worthy of worship. There are many deities (gods or goddesses) to choose from. So for simplicity, Witchcraft is the worship of mother earth, awareness of the cycles of the universe and becoming in tune with nature around them. Many look for inspiration and guidance in myth, ancient religion, and even science fiction.

Nature is sacred? Please. Being in tune with nature? Not in my Churck you don't. Nothing is in tune at the First Unichurck. This is sick, sick stuff. What is the moral code of these perverts?

They try to live by the above law, "harm no one." Most will tell you that the spells are done to bring benefits and well being. Witches will tell you the reason harmful spells are not done because what ever is sent out comes back seven fold. That is true from what the Bible says you reap what you sow!
Galatians 6:7 be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap. You sow Witchcraft; you reap the lake of fire!

Anyone who tries to live by the law "harm no one" should be shot. Or better yet, thrown into a lake of fire (Are your ears burning, California?).

I read enough to know that witches should be burned at the stake. Anyone who respects nature and avoids harming others is not welcomed in organized religion. As for chicks with dicks, I guess I'll leave them up to Dok Bok's expertise, since I'm not sure how we got started talking about them in the first place.

----

UPDATE: I just discovered where Dok Bok encountered the reference that so tickled his fancy - http://exposingsatanism.org/halloween.htm

My apologies for suggesting that this was only his personal fantasy.

---

---

FURTHER UPDATE: Now I can't stop thinking about these nature women riding on broomsticks. Maybe there is something mind-bendingly sinister going on here.

The Few, The Proud

Today's lesson in religiosity, again suckled from the bountiful bosom of ExposingSatan.org, explores the unfortunate fact that very few of you properly understand the dictates of the supreme spirit. One might expect an omniscient being to be a little bit better at getting his/her/transgender's point across, but such is life.

As the Sataneers correctly note (under the strangely titled section, Are We Hateful? ):

It is a sad fact that we are now in the great apostasy, which God warned us about several thousands of years ago. We are not only in the great apostasy, but we are seeing events unfold on the world stage which are bringing us ever closer to the end of these last day...

It makes us weep to watch the growing deception, to cry out against it, and to be heeded by so few and opposed by so many. Why is that essential correction which Scripture so clearly demands left to a few of us nobodies and shunned by church leaders who would be heeded by millions?

I don't necessarily agree that it is sad that we live during the great apostasy. Where else would you rather be in time? If you have to live a temporal existence, wouldn't you choose to do it during the grand finale? "Big finish," Rusty always says.

But the Sataneers do pose a good question. Why are there so few of us who correctly see through the grand deception? Why doesn't everybody else wake up?

This reminds me, shouldn't the FU adopt a foil for Rusty - some sort of anti-sheep? I'm not really sure how we could explain his/her/transgender's existence, what with Rusty being omnipotent. But a fallen angel really seems to add something to the whole picture. Maybe we could just say something vague about "free will" or "original sin."

Pacific Tectonic Plate on the Move Again!!

Last Tuesday, the Pacific Plate took up the baton in it's eons-old race against the North American plate. This caused homes in the San Francisco area to rattle. As a recent immigrant to the San Andreas fault, I have put some water aside and done some thinking about earthquakes and why I could do without them. I feel, therefore, basically as prepared as the local veterans. And the Legionnaires.
My biggest fear in all of this is that "the Big One" is going to occur at the precise moment that I am conducting my own morning ritual of making my "Big One".

I will not be able to grab water, drink it as fast as I can until it is gone, get under a doorframe and do all the interpretive dance moves recommended by FEMA if my colon is, how shall we say, "in motion". That is a relatively unstoppable, uninterruptable event, even if the earth moves below me. Now, were I the offspring of Alceste, the opportunity to streak across my apartment, half-naked with feces smeared all over my little body would probably carry a certain amount of defiant appeal. I have no such luck, unfortunately.

Maybe that Satan-exposer can help me with some sort of advice like his explanation of witches symbolized riding broomsticks so it would look like they had weiners and the crops would grow. That guy seems to be full of knowledge. But how in the hex did he get a "dot org" website with all that goobledy-gook? Any other takers?

Grand Comic Design

I really cannot get enough of this Exposing Satanism website.

For today's lesson, I would like to explore how J.K. Rowling, aka Satan, is tricking so-called Christians into something or other:

There are many books out about Witchcraft but none so cleverly packaged
like the latest. Satan is up to his old tricks again and the main focus is the children of the world. The latest craze is a series of books by author J. K. Rowling, known as Harry Potter.
The scramble to get the books is not just for children. Just as many adults are amused and are absorbing the content of these books. And what is sickening, Christians, or so-called Christians, are part of the fan club. I knew nothing of Harry Potter until mail started coming in asking if it was ok for teachers in Christian schools to be reading children books about mythology and witchcraft!!!! Did you read that correctly? In Christian schools!!!!!

Obviously children have no business reading books. Books are for weighing down things that you are gluing together. But even more egregious of a sin than teaching them to read is teaching children mythology!?!

Immediately preceding the above quotation, the Exposing Satan author cites as his authority the words of a spirit quoted by Timothy:

1st. Timothy 4:1-2 Now the Spirit speaketh expressly, that in the latter times some shall depart from the faith, giving heed to seducing spirits, and doctrines of devils; Speaking lies in hypocrisy; having their conscience seared with a hot iron;

When you see comedic genius such as this, it makes you wonder whether there isn't some sort of grand, comic design to the whole universe.

Still Drinking On Fridays

I am what you might call a creature of habit. You might just call me a creature. You wouldn't be the first.

So, it occurs to me that it would be much easier to rewrite history than to travel through time. During the Gorbachev years, I remember hearing the quotation from a Soviet commentator, "Our history has never been so uncertain." I couldn't agree less.

Call me a revisionist, but it is better than being called a creature. So, I would like to predict that my contribution to history will be ___(Note to self: fill in blank later with accurate data).

Idle Worship

There has been an ongoing debate amongst the upper eschelon philosophers in the First Unification Church of Knowledge as to how to properly depict the lord, savior, and general good fellow, Rusty. Recent depictions of Rusty in Churck t-shirts, g-strings, and maternity wear have shown Rusty as a simple white sheep. However, it is generally agreed as a matter of historical fact that Rusty was, and is, a black sheep. This same damned thing happened to Jesus Christ. I don't know how to explain it.

Maybe it is simply the case that white is better than black. While researching this hypothesis, I ran across a very informative website called http://exposingsatanism.org/. As you can see for yourself, this outfit provides an essential public service by exposing such Satanists as Hindus, Muslims, Mormons, and people who play Pokemon.

The first thing I noticed about the Exposing Satan site was the small crawling message across the top which slowly advised me "The Antichrist will be revealed soon!!!!" Now they had my attention. One of my favorite timeframes is "soon!!!" "Are you ready?" The crawl inquired of me.

"Yes, yes I am," I shouted at my computer. The crawl wasn't listening. It rambled on about how the "Satanic trash will unite."

"Well, that doesn't sound good." I thought. "We certainly wouldn't want united Satanic trash."

Digging deeper into the meaning of this reference to "Satanic trash," I encountered the following in reference to the "Jewish cabal" (my thoughts are in parentheses)

I want to state for the public record right now, No, I am not a Jew Hater (What would give anyone that silly idea?) ....
So with the above being said, we must look expose these snakes that are bringing this world into the the new age of the anti-christ. (Perhaps the author is a Snake Hater). There are many from all beliefs and races possessed by demon spirits driven by greed and power. The Jews are not exemptfrom the demon possession. Calling a pig a pig is not being anti-pig, it is merely a statement of fact. (Apparently a Pig Hater, too). There are Jews who are using the "Gods chosen people" as a way to cover what they are doing. (What are they doing again?) They are working with other satanic groups such as the Masons, Jesuits, The Vatican, and yes these so called Christian leaders to advance a global agenda. (Oh, they are working with other satanic groups. That sounds like a satanic conspiracy. I hope someone exposes it). It's time to drop all this anti-Jew crap (I think he really means to stop calling him a Jew Hater) and expose the hidden trash that will give rise to the son or perdition. (I'm lost, are the Jews the trash or not? What about the snakes and the pigs? Further, isn't the whole point of the author's "religion" to give rise to the son? He should be encouraging the Jew-snake-pig conspiracy.)

For our next lesson, we will delve into how the Muslims, Taoists, and musicians find themselves included in the "Satanic trash" smorgasbord. Following that, we will create an exhaustive list of all of the non-begotten sons.

Young Punkers pull it off

Brett Favray, seen in this lockeroom picture before the game, led those young punkers to an exciting OT victory last night 19-13 in the miles-high city. Of note, he is 1 year younger than OneEar. Congrats to the Wisconsians; make sure you got your medicare paperwork right, or you're on your way to prison.

Exciting New Product

Are you the kind of person who lives through time? Do you enjoy knowing what year it is? If you answered "yes" to either of the preceding questions, then you are in desperate need of the
Why Don't You Bathe? Wall Calendar. This calendar is virtually guaranteed to contain all 12 months of the entire year!! And, the invaluable life lessons depicted make this an incredible invalue.

Order Here!!!

Califires Perfect for Giant Marshmallow Roast

"What have they done," some have asked about the wicked Californians, "to so anger and thereby incur the wrath of the benevolent Lord, Savior, and general good fellow, Rusty?"


Let's not be so hasty in condemning those heathens. Perhaps there is a greater plan. And perhaps that greater plan involves the Giant Marshmallow.

Year, Well, Spent

Many of you will recall that, for the past year, I have been working tirelessly on the first in a 17 part series of children's books.

The first book is entitled "Why Don't You Bathe?". It is both a teaching aid and a life lesson geared toward children of all ages. Unfortunately, it is difficult to find an illustrator who matches my talent level, so I have been forced to illustrate the book myself. Though I don't consider comic illustration to be one of my strengths, it turns out that I am more skilled than any of the other available applicants for the position. Well, congratulations to me on completing the first panel.

Child of Local Monkey dressed in striped, polyester turtleneck captured and sent to Law School in preparation for running future Blog

Please see Photo Below.

Hey Lance

Google. Please open your anal sphincter and insert a shaken bottle of Coca-Cola (TM).

I Me Mine

Now I get it.

The blog community wants personal, beautifully-crafted intimate stories.

Ok.

I am an incredibly attractive female Asian supermodel (bear with me). Yesterday, my puppy Gisele, who was a shelter rescue, died after a long struggle with sickle-cell anemia. With her last dying breath, she barked out a message in Samuel Morse code asking me to stop domestic violence. I nodded as though I would, but, in reality, I'm not going to do Bo Diddley. What the hell can the Giesele do about it, she is dead.

DISCLAIMER: Much of the preceding is not technically "true" (except for the part about Bo Diddley). I also speak out fervently against all forms of "-ism" including racism, sexism, and drunkism. And, I am in favor of freedom of speech, free music downloads, and sitting. Oh yeah, and I support the troops.

Giant Marshmallow

Please post your favorite story or comment about the Giant Marshmallow.

I will announce the winner at a later time.

I Believe Its Time For You To Die

Time For You to Die

It was a 9-11 weekend in sports. First, the politically incorrect native-American themed team from Champaign beat the noble Wisconsin Badgers. Then, despite my ferocious rooting, the NFL team from Chicago that is owned by a woman allowed the noble Green Bay Packers to hand them the game. What can one say?

The Bears still suck
The Bears still suck
The Bears still suck
The Bears still suck
They really, really, really, really, really, really suck
The Bears
Still
Suck

BYW- I dint rite dat der song.

Voting Guide

Phan Male

Dear One E.,

As a faithful reader/contributor for several days now, I have a question for you. Who should I vote for in the '08 election? You seem to be full of opinions and LSD-like thought patterns.

As a form of "pre-payment" for your soon-to-follow litany of written babble some would call "advice", I will offer up this piece of "advice":

Do not see the movie "SuperBad". It is not titular irony nor vernacular; the movie is actually super bad, with an occasional funny moment here and there.

You're welcome.

Your Pal,

Anonymous

Where Did I Put My Damned Leg?

A man in North Carolina who bought a smoker at an abandoned property auction found a human leg inside. The amputee "plans to drive to Maiden, about 35 miles northwest of Charlotte, to reclaim his amputated leg, police said."

Anonymous Heterosexual Toilet Sex UPDATE

Two fans at last Saturday's Wisconsin Badger football game were arrested for screwing in the ladies toilet.

That couple was having sex in a family bathroom when arrested and taken to the police office, where officers were about to interview them separately, Burke recalled, "and the guy says (to the girl), 'By the way, what is your name?'

The story is so riveting, I had to quote more of it:

According to UW Police Officer Gerard Pehler, ... a bystander approached and asked him, "Can you do anything about two having sex in the women's restroom stall?" "They're going at it pretty good," added the fan....

The two were pulling up their pants when the officer arrived. "I asked them quite loudly to get out of the stall," Pehler says in his report of the incident. the woman still had her pants down and was struggling to pull them up, the officer said. "It should be noted that she was unsuccessful in the attempt because her pants were inside out," the officer said.

...the officer asked couple to produce their tickets and the man was able to find his -- the seats were in section KK -- but the woman couldn't find hers, what with her pants being inside out.

What to Wear, What to Wear

I just discovered that the Clowns have been secretly planning a Rusty Session without me. As if Willy could fill my shoe. Nice try, assholes. Just for that, I'm not coming.

I will, however, write some new material for you to work on, so check back frequently. Coco, I'll need a theme.

Rustwater Intelligence Police for Cash

The First Unichurck and RUE Enterprises Inc. Ltd. LLC, a faith-based initiative, have teamed up for a new joint venture in paramilitary policing - Rustwater Intelligence Police for Cash. RIP for Cash will be less of a vigilante mob than a highly-trained professional group of armed mercenaries. Rustwater is excited to enter the corporate war industry which continues to experience unprecedented growth and opportunities for expansion.

It is undisputed that the private sector supplies services more cost effectively than governments, so the rise of private armies is a welcome improvement in the efficient use of deadly force. Rustwater executives look forward to having cool choppers, planes, guns, and missiles and the prerogative to use them without the wasteful, inefficient restrictions created by bureaucracy and government oversight.

It has not yet been determined where the Rustwater mercenary army will operate. The market in Iraq is considered saturated, but Rustwater sees growth opportunities in other regions. Rustwater intends to specialize in thought policing and shooting people.

"Some people out there actually think they are free to believe in their own beliefs," indicated an anonymous Rustwater spokesman/woman/transgender, "and we see this unfortunate situation not as a problem but as an opportunity. Those are the people that we need to fix. Wherever there are people that need to be enlightened, whether through killing or other forms of behavior modification, Rustwater will be there."

For reasons that are too complicated for you to understand but which are entirely benevolent, Rustwater will be headquartered in Dubai.

All Hail Cheese

We sent my son off to Kindergarten last week. I am fairly certain that it was much more tramatic for Mrs.Ear and myself than it was for the boy. Nonetheless, he is still not quite sure why he is going to school. I tried to explain how Kindergarten drop-outs have limited job options, but I am afraid that he sees unemployment as a bonus. When I asked him what he enjoyed most on the first day, he indicated that there is a boy in his class named Gabriel who answers every question by saying "All Hail Cheese!"

I am sure that this situation must be quite frustrating for the teacher, but my son, and then myself living vicariously through him, found this to be quite humorous. Each night I ask him how many times Gabriel said "All Hail Cheese!" Judging by the decreasing frequency, whatever counter-measures the teacher is using must be working. But Gabriel is still good for at least one or two renditions of "All Hail Cheese!" per day.

I am not sure whether the statement "All Hail Cheese!" is derived from some movie or commercial or what. Granted we do live in Wisconsin, so perhaps that has something to do with it. Maybe Gabriel is simply a comedic genius. Whatever the source of his inspiration, my son and I have adopted Gabriel's refrain which we now use to answer any stupid question. Examples:

Q: Are you letting them have candy after they've already brushed their teeth?
A: All Hail Cheese!

Q: Did you clean your room and make your bed?
A: All Hail Cheese!

Coco, (and LBok and Alcesete and probably everyone else) in anticipation of your question, no, the teacher is not hot. However, the student teacher would be do-able if one were attracted to attractive 20-somethings with nice teeth.

Mile Low Club

Until recently, I was unaware of the vast network providing anonymous gay airport toilet sex. Apparently there is an intricate system of signals and protocols, all of which I had been completely oblivious to. I had to retrace my footsteps for the last 20 years - I wonder whether I ever inadvertently offered to have anonymous gay airport toilet sex during any of my "layovers". Apparently I dodged that "bullet."

Of even greater interest, I have to wonder whether there is some protocol for anonymous heterosexual airport toilet sex. As a married man, I inquire strictly for educational, scientific, and religious reasons. How does it work? Would I, again speaking strictly hypothetically, have to go to the ladies toilet, or would I find my date in a stall in the men's room? If I enter a stall in the men's room and there is a woman standing/sitting/lying there, what are the signals? Do I still have to buy her a drink? Does water count?

Someone enlighten me.

. Photo courtesy of Paulleen Simon Photo Stream

Feedback Loop

Dear Sirs: I am writing to complain about the content of your website. A man who attacks God only harms himself.


Dear Concerned: I believe the politically correct phraseology is "A man who attacks God only harms him/her/transgender's self." What makes you believe you are viewing content?

-------------

Dear OneEar: Why are you defending pedophiles? At least NBC is catching these sickos.


Dear Pedophobe: I believe pedophiles should be summarily executed. However, I also believe that about non-pedophiles. If the police or TV executives would just administer random lethal injections, that would put an end to many of society's problems.

------------

Dear OneEar: What is your problem with Pluto?


Dear Pluto-lover: Why don't you go love Pluto, Pluto-lover.

------------

Dear OneEar: You are an idiot.

Dear Mom: It is nice to hear from you.
-------------

Dear OneEar: Why do you assume that anyone with flesh-colored tights must have a prosthetic leg?


Dear Hop-along: Never trust anyone in flesh-colored tights.

--------------

Dear OneEar: You make many spelling and grammatical errors.


Deer spellchekir: I practice English make more better.

----------

Dear OneEar: When treating cheesy discharge, diurer, and anal bleeding, where do you apply the salve?


Dear LBok: Over the eyes.

-------------

Dear OneEar: What are the 10 rules for good living?


Dear Good Liver: 1) Don't drink to excess while holding your computer on your lap. You might read something funny and then you'll have that beer/snot all over the keyboard and monitor. 2) Don't covet your neighbor's wife when his daughter is over the age of consent. 3) Sprouts of any kind are not people food. 4) Don't count on escalating borrowing to save your business or country. 5) Don't buy the grenadine. 6) To keep your feet soft and baby-like, wear heavy wool socks. 7) Always put your car-keys in the same pocket. Ex. left pocket of outermost garment. Then, you won't be able to leave your coat somewhere and you'll always know where to reach for your keys. 8) You should probably turn off the circuit breaker before you attempt to replace that switch. 9) People will make fun of you if the dish to pass you bring is a bag of ice, but then they'll want some. 10) Try to laugh at someone each and every day.

Catcher in the Wry

Prosecutor kills himself and NBC gets sued.

REPUBLISHED FROM 6/2/06
My plan is to create an elaborate trap designed to catch Stoned Phillips or some other TV investigative journalist by posing as a sexual predatee.

You may have witnessed one of the hundreds of special reports whereby a network talking head teams up with a crack team of young, sexually questionable kids to pretend to be even younger, sexually precocious kids on MySpace. Once the crack team encounters a sick f^ck intent upon preying on a youngster, the crack team lures the sick f^ck to a house filled with hidden cameras. After the sick f^ck enters (and occassionally drops his pants), the talking head emerges and berates the sick f^ck for being a sick f^ck.

Now I agree that this makes for great entertainment. What sort of perverted moron wouldn't want to watch a perverted moron questioning a perverted moron? Plus, pedophiles rank below Nazis and attorneys on the scale of public sentiment, so it is very gratifying to watch them squirm.

I am just afraid that, eventually, the public may tire of these shows. Thinking ahead, after this trend has run its course, (but before the pay-per-view telecasts of public executions), I foresee a time when we will be at a loss for good, quality television. And so, back to my concept.

I will get a child to pose to be a pedophile posing to be a child on MySpace. Once the crack team sets to work, Stoned will lure the "pedophile" back to his photo-lair. When the child drives up in his miniature car, he will park far away so that, without perspective, Stoned won't realize the dimunitive size of his prey.

The child will walk toward the house on stilts smoking a cigarette and complaining about his bunions. He will shake his fist in rage at the sky and mumble something about Part D and "the way things used to be." Then, he will sit down and feed the pigeons (or squirrels).

Once he runs out of pigeon (or squirrel) food, his head will droop forward as he drifts off to nap. Eventually, he will awaken, pull some crumpled papers out of his pocket, read through a few, and then look abruptly toward the house as though he has just remembered the purpose of his visit. Rising again atop his stilts, he will resume his amble toward the house.

Meanwhile, inside, Stoned will have worked himself into a journalistic froth. Like a stallion at the dog track, Stoned will be pacing, snorting and fuming and barely able to bridle his impulse for unrestrained journalism.

Once the child arrives at the door, the child will refuse to open it until the child tells the child what the child will do to the child. Once the child tells the child what the child will do to the child, the child will pull from his trenchcoat a shotgun and shoot the child through the door. Don't worry, the child can't be prosecuted because the child is a minor.

AP for RP!

Rather than seeking support from the general masses (the least common denominator), we have decided, in our ongoing efforts to influence the US presidential election (coming soon to a computer near you), to employ a sharply targeted strategy. It is like hunting with a rifle rather than a shotgun, only with a needle.

Announcing!! Autopederasts for Ron Paul !!!

Are you an autopederast who is undecided about which candidate he/she/transgender should support? Why not vote for Ron Paul. Granted, he may not be capable of successful autopederasty. Even his efforts at autofellatio failed. But still, you have to give him an "A" for auto. Besides, who else are you going to vote for - the woman? the black guy? the adulterer? the lazy actor? the cute guy? the old POW? the dwarf? I didn't think so.

Ron Paul - He won't screw you if you can screw yourself.

#1 Again

Rusty Never Sleeps - the Official Site of the First Unichurck at oneear.blogspot.com is now the #1 search result on Google for the query "ron paul autofellatio." Now the herd shall come home to roost. (For some reason, we don't show up for the search "LBok autopederasty").

Once again, the FU is on the bleeding edge of US Presidential politics. Congratulations all the way around. Interestingly, I note that the folks at the Mapleleafweb.com site also have drawn the connection between Presidential candidate Ron Paul and the hedgehog. I fear the Canadians are trying to scoop us. Come on real Americans.

Dwarf-like Goat Man Behind Success

Dr. Louden Buttoffskey, the renowned surgeon who has been affiliated with an until now prestigious West-coast university hospital, made scientific history last weekend when he actually managed to do the hokey-pokey.

Granted the aging doctor is not the first human to successfully enter his own winky with his wee willy. What makes his feat so remarkable is that the dwarf-like goat-man has such an unusually small giggle-stick and most assumed that it would never reach the knot in his balloon. His bald yogurt-slinger has earned the moniker "Easy Rider" for more than one reason. Often seen humping large rats or the occassional dwarf-elephant, LBok typically succeeds in his amorous pursuits precisely because of his miniscule stink hammer: His prey often doesn't even notice that he's doing them.

So, onlookers and the internet community alike were amazed when Doc Bok took a swig of his home-brewed whisky, removed all of his clothes, and then chortled, "you may feel a little prick!" He then contorted his hooved shanks up over his head and curved his body around his own back such that he resembled a very disgusting cinnabun. Covered in a brown, sticky glaze, and wrapped in cellaphane, the surgeon then carefully probed his blind eye with his one-eyed worm.

"I didn't even know whether I'd successfully tickled my pickle," Doc Bok was heard to say afterwards, "until I after I'd put my capri pants back on and noticed all of the santorum."

LBok had been urged to attempt the feat on numerous occassions, but, until now he had succeeded only in using his fist for the old chimney sweep and, on one occasion, digging mud with the tongue shovel. Now, Bok has crossed that final frontier, he has gone where no man has gone before (except that many men have actually been to his, you know, but anyway).

Congratulations to you, Doc Bok, now you can move on to the next item on your life list.

Rustianity Welcomes Constructive Criticism

Rustianity in general and the First Unichurck in particular have come under criticism as of late for missing a few of the key elements of a mass religion.

"Sure, you have a bulletin, a website, some very fashionable clothing items, and an omnipotent God," say the detractors. "But you don't have a creation myth, a heaven myth, or the threat of mercilessly torturing all followers of other religions for all eternity."

God has asked me to relay the information that such detractors will be mercilessly tortured for all eternity. Hopefully that solves those problems, and we look forward to working with those of you who do not wish to be mercilessly tortured for all eternity.

In the name of Rusty,

Ahem.

Best Religion Known to Man or Beast

P. Daugel Boone, award winning author of the seminal guide "How To Give Yourself Awards For Your Writing" has just awarded oneear.blogspot.com with the prestigious award "Best Fantasy Website!"

Let us all take a moment to pat me on the back. It is an honor, well, deserved.

Who Really Cares

I don't really read books anymore. However, I just watched a 20/20 show where John Stossel, the curly-headed mustachioed fellow who is always whining in favor of political incorrectness, discussed a book called Who Really Cares by Syracuse U prof Arthur Brooks. Brooks surveyed 10s of thousands of Americans to determine who donates what in America.

Brooks data shows that, in America, self-described conservatives give more to charities than liberals by about 30% despite making, on average, less money per family. Conservatives are 18% more likely to donate blood as well.

Do rich people give more? No, as a percentage of income, the working poor is the most generous group of people. The middle class (us) are the lowest givers. What is the biggest predictor of giving to charity? Whether the person is religious. Did you hear that doubters? Join the First Unichurck.

Lessons to be learned? 1) John Stossel is a whiner. 2) Liberals are generous in theory. 3) The First Unichurck is the solution to almost all of your problems.

Disclaimer: The First Unichurck is not actually the solution to almost all of your problems. We cannot correct erectile dysfunction, cheesy discharge, cartoon fungus characters, diureur, stupidity, consumerism, or bleeding from the anus (though we can apply salves).

Exciting New Product

Too many t-shirts? Well, what if you got pregant? The new Snotty & Spoogy "Rains of Power" maternity shirt is perfect for almost any occasion. It is so comfortable, it would even be perfect for a golf outing.

http://www.cafepress.com/oneear

To Make a Point

As many of you know, I used to be quite an artist. My specialty was always one-dimensional renderings, and, as of late, I've gotten inspired to create some new and interesting works.



I call this one "Pile of Money Vanished?"



This one is called "It's Raining Weapons But You Can't See Them Because You're Blind"



And "Point of Order"

I'm working on a new piece at the moment which has the working title "Untitled 44." I expect to be finished sometime in the fall of '08.

Ron Paul Inflexible

Correction: The FU previously incorrectly published information indicating that Presidential Candidate H. Ron Paul was reknowned for his ability to fellate himself. We retract this statement and apologize for any confusion. We have it on good authority that he is physically unable to complete this feat. Apparently whoever he fellated, it was not himself. Perhaps it was another candidate.

Regardless, the FU is considering supporting Ron despite his shortcomings. Texan H. Ron Paul and his running mate, The Crazy Admiral, are burning up the internets with their Presidential campaign, and the First Unichurck wants to jump into the flames early. To provide logistical support for this campaign, we will be splitting up the congregation into 4 teams, each to be assigned to one of the 4 segments of the internets - A)self-help-seeking/personal obsession sites; B)pornography; C)amateur author/musician/filmmaker sites; and D) pornography.

In order to help out Ron, we will need to determine the following:

1- When is this so-called election and how does one submit his/her/transgender's choice?
2- Who are the other candidates and do they rape babies and/or kittens?
3- Given the obvious connection with L.Ron, would TomKat, Vinnie Barbarino, and KirstieKreme Ally line up for some support? It never hurts to ask (unless the answerer punches you in the face or seizes your bank account).
4 - How else can we harness the fanatics and conspiracy-theorists?

Now, the only problem I see is that Ron is a Texan. Every southern president since Eisenhower turned out to be either incompetent or a jackass. To wit:

Lyndon B. Johnson - Texan - Jackass
Jimmy Carter - Georgian - Incompetent
George HW Bush - Texan - Incompetent
Billary Clinton - Arkansan - Jackass
Geo. Bush - Texan - Incompetent Jackass

L.Ron is virtually guaranteed to be either incompetent or a jackass. I guess we need to determine which before we really put the full thrust of the FU support behind him.

4 Mo Years

Perhaps the FU should withdraw its support from L.Ron Paul and instead attach it to Geo. Bush. Only he appears to embrace the Colyp School of Financial Money which relies upon an intricate system of credit card cash advances.

According to the Treasury Department, from 1776-2000, the first 224 years
of U.S. history, 42 U.S. presidents borrowed a combined $1.01 trillion from
foreign governments and financial institutions, but in the past four years
alone, the Bush administration borrowed $1.05 trillion.
http://www.cnsnews.com/ViewNation.asp?Page=%5CNation%5Carchive%5C200511/NAT20051104b.html

All that I can tell my kids is, "You're welcome."

BTW - Note that the above reference was from 2005!?!

Long Live The King

Check out this news story about an episode just before Elvis' "death" when he chased away some muggers. You must watch the video reinactment.

http://www.nbc15.com/home/headlines/9204162.html

FU Supports Ron Paul

In an uncharacteristically partisan move, the First Unichurck is announcing its early support for Ron Paul as our next President of these United States.

I believe that Ron is the seasoned actor who once bore the nickname "The Hedgehog." During his film career, he demonstrated the capacity for "autofellatio," and it is expected that this skill will serve him well as leader of the Republican Party. It is hoped that Ron will restore some of the dignity to the White House that has been tragically absent since the exit of Tricky Dick.

Trouble

What does that mean exactly "Trouble"? What would happen if you got into "Trouble"?

Today we had our department picnic. When this event was first proposed at one of our department meetings, I had visions of a late afternoon affair with plenty of alcohol and good music and a relaxed atmosphere that might result in some wiling away of the early evening, chatting and playing backyard games. Maybe even a few of the women would change into cutoffs and perhaps there would be a little cleavage here and there.

Unfortunately, reality came no where close to matching my depraved sense of what should be. Reality consisted of 49 sober people sitting in the hot humid air eating burgers and checking their watches. 12:00 to 1:30--this was the official allotted time for our "picnic" I've taken lunches longer than 12:00 to1:30!!!! Who are these people that I work with? Why can't they get into a little trouble?

Thank God someone brought beer (ME!) and there was a handful of us who imbibed and tried to make it into a picnic. However at one point several of us wandered off no more than 25 feet from the main group to play that Baggo game and be merry. Upon concluding our game we turned back to the main group only to discover that they had all departed. Every last one of them had left and gone back to work! There was a handful of us who stayed and finished the beer but even they were worried about getting into trouble.

I encourage all of you to go out today and get into a little trouble.

Praise Rusty's Occity Network

The First United Church of Knowledge has teamed up with Rusty Enterprises Co. Inc. Ltd LLC, a very, very limited liability company and a faith-based initiative (RUE on the Newark Stock Exchanger) to launch the new web-based television network praising Rusty and all of his occity - Praise Rusty's Occity Network (PRON Tv).

Initial offerings from PRON Tv will include:

LonelyLamb16- Exploring the teen-aged years of Rusty's life, and told by those who knew him best, LonelySheep 16 is very, very loosely based upon the testaments of his high-school gym teacher, his former neighbor, and the guy that used to sell him cigarettes.

The Glory Hole- Rustians have long been affiliated with the social and philanthropical organization The Underminers. The Glory Hole series will dig into the history of the Underminers. We'll see how their tunnels, shafts, and other types of holes reflect the glory of the universe in which we're living and its creator, a humble, one-eared, slightly incompetent sheep called Rusty. You are guaranteed to be blown away.

Wiffey's World - Wiffey has been a controversial figure since the founding of Rustianity. Some believed she was the only true disciple while others thought she was a harlot. We'll find out.

Rusty, King of the Ewes- Delving into the histo-religio-backdroppings of the Churck, this histo-religio-drama explores how a humble, one-eared, slightly incompetent sheep could arise from the stables to become, in the eyes of many, king of the ewes.

Lisboan Dwarves- Based upon parables from the Second Book of Rugmunchians, this show is set it Portugal and will recount visions delivered unto Rusty's disciples while in Lisbon.

Suck on this, Pluto-lovers

"Scientists" have discovered TRESS-4, a planet which is 1.7 times larger than Jupiter. Kind of makes you feel inadequate, doesn't it Pluto?

Note that TRESS-4 is described as a "Fluffy" planet. So, stay the hell off!

Pron Pron Pron!!!

The First Unichurck proudly announces the proud launching of the new Praise Rusty's Occity Network. Now, whenever anyone enters "pron" into his/her/transgender's webbrowser, he/she/transgender should arrive directly at the site he/she/transgender wanted - the site dedicated to the Lord Rusty and all of his occitiness.

We'll even be launching new PRON t-shirts including sizes X, XX, and XXX.

Stay tuned pron-lovers.

Dicking Around Update!

If you are reading this, you are too close. As suspected, the amount of time Americans spend dicking around has reached epidemic proportions. According to a survey by Salary.com, the "average" American worker spends almost 2 hours per workday dicking around. This prompts one to wonder, "What is Salary.com's statistical methodology?"

The Bureau of Labor Statistics of the US Guvmint reports "an average weekday for persons employed full time and who worked on that day included 9.3 hours working, 7.6 hours sleeping, 3.0 hours doing leisure and sports activities, and 0.9 hour doing household activities. The remaining 3.2 hours were spent in other activities, such as those described above. (These estimates include related travel time.)" Note, there is no mention of dicking around by the BLS!?!

Now, who are you going to believe, a dot.com jobsite or The Guvmint? The proof is in the reading. You are, de facto, dicking around. We must go with the internets on this one.

Disassembly Required

As I was disassembling something yesterday, I had to reflect upon the fact that "disassembly" is such a wonderful concept. "Assembly" implies hours of tedium with a screwdriver, an adjustable wrench, and 23 pages of instructions written in 45 different languages. But "disassembly" is something one can do with a sledgehammer. It is simple but terribly gratifying.


So I was disassembling a chest of drawers from our basement with my sledgehammer out in the yard. I then burned the disassembled components in an old steel barrel. I live in an area where there is extremely lax enforcement of any ordinances which might exist. Nobody really seems to know or care whether I am even supposed to have a burning barrel.

When I first moved in, I was going to burn a large pile of brush I accumulated from trimming all of the hedges. I asked one of my neighbors, the guy who lives next to my pet cemetary, "what is the protocol for obtaining a burning permit?" I could tell by his perplexed look that he hadn't understood my question, so I rephrased, "I'd like to burn this pile of brush, whom should I call?" Again, confusion. I pointed to the brush, "I'm going to light this on fire." Finally he said, "Oh, do you need some matches?"


Since that time, I've adopted the local customs and I burn whatever I want whenever I want. So, I was out in the backyard burning the disassembled pieces from a chest of drawers. The fire was just roaring when, all of a sudden, something shot out of the barrel skyward into a tree 30 feet away. Then, it happened again?! After ducking for cover, I emerged to try to figure out what I was launching all over the neighborhood. There were pieces of metal, formerly hinges and such, that had somehow reformulated themselves as flying projectiles. I'm not sure exactly how it happened, but I did have to pause to consider, "Wouldn't I feel like an idiot if one of those had hit me or someone else?" There ought to be a law.





Incidentally, the ife-way has esumed-ray eading-ray the ustyblog-ray. Ixnay on the aphne-day.

Hold em, Texans

Somehow I got roped into playing poker tonight. I feel as though I'm somewhat at a disadvantage. The problem is that I haven't played poker with any regularity in 10 years and haven't played period (that I can recall) within the last several years. I can't remember when to hold em, when to fold em, when to walk away and when to run.

In the meanwhile, it seems that everyone else in the world has become an expert at Texas Hold'em. I've even seen a TV show with Danny from the Partridge Family playing against Everybody Loves Raymond's brother and some other celebrities. These people are not all that entertaining when teams of professional writers tell them what to say, so why are they on my TV playing cards?

My lack of recent experience is compounded by the fact that I tend to forget how to play games fairly quickly. For the past 16 years or so, the Clowns and I have gotten together once or twice a year, and we always play spades. Each and every year, they have to re-teach me the rules. Fortunately, I am a fast learner and my team usually takes the upper "hand" by day 2. Unfortunately, my team usually loses the upper "hand" by day 3 because I am unable to concentrate on anything but the waves of nausea and occassional spasms of vomiting.

Anyway, can someone remind me about the guidelines for Texas Hold'em. When should I go "all in?" When should I go "all home?"

Working Class Gyro

One of my fans considers me to be a "smarty pants." By this, he/she/transgender seems to really mean that my pants are not, in fact, smart. This is a literary device known as "irony." The ironic thing is that my pants are, in fact, of average intelligence for pants. Granted, they are not smart relative to, say, a prescient being. But for pants, hey what do you expect? They stay on until I take them off and then they stay off until I put them on. Nice try though.

I do not belong to the working class. Instead, I belong to the class that goes "to work" but who then dicks around instead of working. Perhaps we should be termed the "dicking class." Judging by the blogs I've seen, the dicking class seems to be a large and growing segment of the world.


According to a definition I heard on the radio from a guy who was authoritative enough to be on the radio, "working class" is defined as a person who works where, when, and for how long the boss directs. To me, that doesn't seem right. My employees never seem to work where, when, or for how long I tell them to. I, on the other hand, always seem to be working. Maybe I do belong to the working class. But yet, don't forget about the dicking around.

Much of the working and dicking around that I do is uncompensated. For example, every year, I volunteer at the Toys for Tots program to hand out toys to parents of "underprivileged" children. Because my pants are not smart enough to object, I always get stuck standing outside in the cold to help people load the bags of toys into their vehicles. The deal is that parents somehow qualify to get free toys which are donated by the rest of us. There is a large convention center which is chock full of every toy imaginable. They are divided by age category and sex category and there is some type of rationing system that allows a parent to get, say, 1 large toy, 5 medium toys and 10 stocking stuffers per child (don't quote me on the numbers. I don't really know because, as I said, I'm standing outside in the cold). Whatever the rationing, the end result is that each parent seems to end up with at least one if not two or three 40 gallon bags full of stuff. These are what I get to cram into their vehicles.

Sometimes the folks are very grateful, and, as I load a bag into their 1976 Corolla, I figure I'm probably helping some kids enjoy a nice holiday. Other times, when I'm trying to negotiate around the giant speaker system in the back of a $60,000 Escalade but I dare not ask the owner to help for fear of breaking her unconscionably long, freshly manicured nails, I wonder whether I shouldn't belong to that class. I rationalize my assistance by assuming that this idiot's children won't get any decent toys but for the program despite the fact that, obviously, there would be better expenditures of her money. Yet I still have to wonder, am I really serving society best by enabling the continued gross consumption.

No, I better serve by dicking around. Witness the religion to synthesize all other religions and thereby render them unneccesary and end all need for warfare. Them are some smart pants.

RUE launches NEW Alternative to Passive Aggression

Rusty Enterprises (RUE on the Newark Stock Exchanger) has developed an exciting new alternative to passive aggression. It is hoped that RUE's alternative to passive aggressive behavior will reduce the amount of passive aggression. According to Wikipedia,

Passive-aggressive behavior refers to passive, sometimes obstructionist resistance to following authoritative instructions in interpersonal or occupational situations. It can manifest itself as resentment, stubbornness, procrastination, sullenness, or repeated failure to accomplish requested tasks for which one is assumed, often explicitly, to be responsible.

RUE's exciting new alternative is named "Active Aggression." Instead of resenting that person who is causing your life to be more problematic, why not just pick up a board and hit him/her/transgender in the face? Don't like your bosses latest assignment? Don't delay and sabotage the project - stab him/her/transgender in the kidney.

As for 0bstructionist resistance to following authoritative instructions, RUE is working on a new solution to his problem as well. This project has been tentatively named "Blind Obedience".


Both Blind Obedience and Active Aggression are expected to be extremely popular and should be big sellers for the ailing Rusty Enterprises, a faith-based initiative. "We really hope this drops directly to the bottom line," stated RUE Chief Chief Chief OneEar, "because that is our favorite line. In fact, I'm not clear on why we even have the other lines."

Victims & Churck Elders Reach Historic Settlement

Following an all-night session of tense negotiations, the First Unichuck has announced a historic settlement with alleged victims of alleged clergy alleged abuse. Expected to result in the largest such settlement since the Boston Catholic boy-raping thing, the FU settlement involves more than 500 alleged victims. Attorneys for the sheep as well as attorneys for the FU and FU leader OneEar announced the deal after a sleepless night of negotiations. According to the sheep's attorneys, "the victims appear satisfied with the settlement. None of them objected to the arrangement or to our rather sizeable attorney fee. They just ate some hay."

FU leader OneEar offered his condolences. "First, I would like to offer my sincerest, deepest, and hardest apologies to the sheep and their families, and I would like to reassure them and the general public that this should not happen again. The FU will do whatever to ensure that elders do not have inappropriate relations with non-consenting minor sheep." OneEar claims to have obtained a deep empathy for the victims and their families following extensive, private one-on-one meetings. "I really cannot overemphasize the need for more of these one-on-one meetings," claimed Ear.

Asked why the negotiations needed to occur during an all-night session, Ear responded, "Many important decisions, such as whether a nation should withdraw its fighting force from a foreign civil war, can be made only with the clear thinking achieved through the lack of sleep. Plus, we told some ghost stories."

Braking News

King of Rock.

A woman in Colorado has had revealed to her a rock enshrined with the image of Elvis Aaron Presley. This is one of the most important findings since the Virgin Mary appeared in a burrito.

____________________

Blow Job

A Virginia man who was making home-made fireworks, probably in preparation for Munitions Day, blew up his garage. Please remember: blowing up one's own home is one of the risks associated with making home-made fireworks at home.

____________________

Paris and Nicole

Reowned blogger OneEar cannot tell the difference between Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie. According to Ear, "They may both be Lindsey Lohan.

____________________

Velma Loses Her Glasses (El Fin)

RECAP: Loyal viewer and occasional contributor LBok requested a retelling of the fascinating tale of a young American living in Spain who lost his glasses. Actually, LBok requested a different story involving Alceste's loss of his glasses, but I was unable to recall many of the details from that instance other than that our african-American-female friend Sitnay had picked a fight on Alceste's behalf with a large african-African man who proceeded to punch Alceste in the face and thereby knocked his glasses off. I don't think there was much else to that story, but my memory is fairly foggy since I was pretty heavily medicated at the time.

Instead, I opted to tell about the time that Alceste lost his glasses at the Plaza Mayor (or was it Puerta del Sol) on the night of New Year's Eve 1990-91. Frankly, I don't recall that night very well either, but I kept a journal of the events leading up to it, and I've been reminded by Alceste on numerous occasions as to what allegedly happened.

The story picks up where Alceste, Colyp and I had returned to Madrid after spending a week in Portugal. By the way, lest I leave the reader with an incorrect impression, the Port we drank in Portugal was generally very good. We only had one bad bottle of Port, but that was what made that bottle noteworthy enough to note. Also, the Aldera Nova that I referenced as the World's Worst Liquor was not Port. It was some type of Anis drink with an unbelievably strong flavor. It wasn't bad in the sense of rotten. It tasted like some sort of evil reduction of black licorice and turpentine. Apparently it is supposed to taste like that.

Speaking of inadvisable alcohol purchases, Coco often reminds me of the time we went into a liquor store somewhere before boarding a train to somewhere else and I spent our available funds on a bottle of Grenadine. Having heard the Grateful Dead song lyrics "Brown-eyed women and red grenadine, the bottle was dusty but the liquor was clean," I'd always wanted to try it. Little did we (I) know that Grenadine is concentrated cherry syrup.

But back to New Year's Eve, 1990. Incidentally, is it New Year's Eve 1990 when the New Year will be 1991? I can never keep that straight. Nor could I keep it straight that night. As evidenced by my journal:

31st- prepared for the night - 1 bottle gin, 1 bottle vodka - took nap - drank vodka - gave presents=BBall "dirty stuff" & IV for liquor. (So, here we are at the infamous New Year's Eve. It appears that we've procured the refreshments and exchanged Christmas presents. I do recall that I gave Colyp and/or Alceste a basketball and we fashioned a hoop and played tackle basketball in Alceste's room with the Germans. I don't know what the liquor IV could have been all about).

Ate chicken. (Again, chicken plays a role).

Filled flask for road and brought bottle of gin. I continued drinking with little assistance. Left with Gunter and the Germans and 2 French girls. (For some reason, I headed out for the evening with the Germans, and, apparently, 2 French girls. I infer that Alceste and Colyp were not with us, but that doesn't seem right. Perhaps they were still napping while I was enjoying a beverage or two, but I really don't remember. However, we must have either made arrangements to meet or they knew where I was going, because, as you will see, we met back up in a sea of 100,000 people).

Got to Sol. (Ah, it was the Puerta del Sol.).

Saw Air Force dude from Moncloa (We had met a group of US Air Force fly-boys one night at a bar. You may recall that the US was conducting bombing raids in Iraq in Gulf War I during the winter of 90-91. This was an unnerving situation for us for numerous reasons, not the least of which was because we were illegal alien Americans in a country that had been ruled by Arabs for an 800 year period. Also, the Spanish public was not generally enthusiastic about the US bombing operations. They thought it was all about oil.

As an example of the social climate at the time, on another occasion, Alceste and I were walking up a street when we noticed a large and growing crowd, or "mob" if you will, building in front of us. As we progressed onward between the burning trashcans, etc. toward our destination, our oblivion was shattered as it slowly dawned on us what was going on. In addition to burning effigies and waiving home-made flag-signs with impolite slogans, the mob was chanting, "Bush - Asesino - Destruye del mundo" or something to that effect which, in our rudimentary understanding of Spanish, we interpreted to mean, "let's get the fuck out of here!" For those who might be amazed at the prognosticating prescience of the Spanish mob who was calling President Bush a killer and destroyer of the world, do not be amazed. This was the first President Bush they were rioting about.

By the way, another problem often encountered while dicking around in a foreign country while your motherland is at war is that it is difficult to get decent news. We had to choose from the slanted Spanish press or US Armed Forces radio from Torrejon, neither of which is very objective. Given the tense situation and the occasional kidnappings, etc., the Torrejon Air Force base was on high alert. When pilots returned from bombing runs on Iraq, they were supposed to keep a low profile. And so it was when we met these guys one night and sat down for a night of drinking. These four 30-something Americans with crewcuts claimed to be visiting Madrid on vacation as an award for meeting their sales goals selling Amway. Right.

Well, it appears that one of these guys was down at the Plaza del Sol. He marks the first in an unbelieveable series of people I/we had met and drank with days, weeks, or months prior who would emerge from the throng of 100,000 to reunite on this magical evening.

-sin dedo (I don't know what this means).

- Saw drunks from Portugal=soccer players=still drunk (These were the freak brothers, one of whom pulled the emergency stop on the train. Again, a bizarre coincidence to run into them again. Who would've guessed that they, and I, would still be drunk days later?)

-German from Faro trip (I think this guy had been on his way to Morocco. He told us some horror story which I don't remember).

-Bought some champagne (There were champagne street vendors. Great concept.)

-drank 1 bottle with gin shots, drunk came along, he helped himself. Ladies, one grabbed Alceste's crank. (I vaguely remember Alceste remarking to one of the ladies, "Hey, you just grabbed my crank!")

-Saw Aussies again. (This was the 2 chicks 1 dude group). Again, what are the odds?

So, my journal entry ends for the night. The remainder of the story is pieced together between my steel trap memory and the unsubstantiated allegations of Alceste (and Colyp).

Many of us who drink to excess have experienced the occasional "blackout." I've been told that it is a symptom of alcohol abuse. Usually, the way that it works is that one drinks too much, and, the next day, when trying to recollect what happened, there is a foggy period after which you don't remember anything and then you wake up somewhere (such as in the bushes) in the morning. This occasion was different. My next recollection was sitting at a table early the next morning. Apparently I had not slept or been home, but I had spent all of my available money (as usual). I was sitting in a tavern that I didn't recognize with a group of people I didn't know. I wasn't sure where (or when) I was. Presumably the adrenaline brought me to a sharp state of awareness. There was a young lass sleeping cuddled against me who, again, I didn't recognize.

The other folks at the table were carrying on a conversation as though we had known each other for some time. I excused myself, and the young lady awoke and, despite my urgent indications that I was leaving, decided to follow. It turned out that she apparently spoke only French, which I don't, and I recall spending several minutes trying to explain that I had to leave because I wasn't sure where (or when) I was. Eventually I left the bar into a neighborhood that I didn't recognize and began trying to figure out where I was. With the sun rising, I could determine East, but I had no idea which way I should head. I walked for the rest of the morning in concentric circles until I found a street the name of which I recognized. I eventually found my way back to familiar ground and walked home late in the morning.

What happened after midnight is a mystery. Alceste alleges that, for no known reason, just after midnight, I walked up to him and smacked his glasses off of his face. He claims to have reached down and put his glasses back on at which time I allegedly knocked them off again.
Though I can't deny it, I would likewise have no reason to believe him but for the fact that a) Colyp concurred and b) Alceste was angry with me for several years which seems like alot of histrionics if it was a joke. Also, he did, in fact, have broken glasses.

So, at this time Alceste, I am willing to accept responsibility for breaking your glasses, and I would like to say, "Sorry." Or should I say, "Rorry."

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(Christmas story courtesy of McHenry Co. Illinois blogger McHenry County Blog

PS: I think it only appropriate that you now apologize for the hotel incident.