So, last night I was informed by my lovely wife that I'm an asshole. I asked her why, and then she proceeded to tell me about how argumentative I am. I pick fights, and as The Deuce once said, "I'm generally the most abrasive guy in any room I enter".
What the fuck ever.
Look, just because I disagree with what some people have to say because the opinion they vomit onto the world is baseless and holds no pretense in reality, doesn't mean that I'm an asshole; it means I have a nose to smell the shit of a shit talker. Further, just because I can rebuke your opinion with my own, one that is based in fact, doesn't mean I'm being argumentative. What it does mean, is that I have some knowledge on the subject and I'm not saying something sucks simply because I think it does.
For example, Grey's Anatomy. I'm forced to watch this program every Thursday with P and her friend as it's usually what's on when I come from the gym. It's not that I necessarily like the show, that's just the time I eat, plus I like to spend time around P as much as I can. With my officiating career, I spend a lot of time away from home, so any time around her comes at a premium. So, this is what she does on Thursday, and in turn, what I do. Not only that, I've now invested so much time watching this show I just want to see how it ends.
That doesn't mean this show is good, in fact, it's easily the WORST show on TV since Sex and the City. I mean the only redeemable quality of S&tC was the always ample amount of nudity, and I'm always up for good masturbatory material. Grey's Anatomy is basically 90210 in Scrubs. This show follows the same story lines, cliff-hangers, and love triangles of every "drama" since, oh, I don't know, Falcon Crest. Its like any of the day time television that is shoveled onto an emotionally retarded female audience. Honestly, when shit that like this is recycled enough times that a guy like Lorenzo Lamas doesn't even find the "drama" very dramatic, can it really be THAT good?
No. So there you go, my opinion, with basis, besides just that fact I just think it sucks.
P also brings up the banter I have with other men about sports. Sports are sacred to men, and we each have our own bias with the team and players we root for. P's friend mentioned last night that she thought Shaq now sucks, just look at how he played the other night, insightful indeed. I'm sure it's not the fact that his career is almost over, or the fact that we're nearly half-way through the NBA season and he's just now setting foot on a court because of an injury. Na, he just sucks. When I point this FACT out she reply’s, "well, he's only been good in the past because he's so big". WOW, you have to be good to play the 5 position? That's like saying Carl Lewis was only good in track because he was fast, and could jump a long ways.
At any rate, I'm an asshole. It's not the fact I have varied interests and actually pay attention to the world around me and the things that are in it. It has nothing to do with the fact that I read and study these subjects so that I won't sound like a complete douche-bag if it comes up in conversation, I'm just an asshole. You know, I wouldn't have a debate with a Quantum Physicist about Quantum Physics, because I don't know shit about it. I'd just able to spew some bile, and try to church it up a bit. In the end though, it's just puke, and it probably stinks. I'm sure the Physicist would think me a better person by saying "I don't know" and listening to what he had to say.
Hell, if more people would listen, they might actually learn something. But, what do I know, I'm just an asshole.
Friday, January 26
Wednesday, January 24
My First Shameless Plug - Knight Time
So, except for George Light, most of the Mole's buddies reside in my little world under aliases. Why, it could be families, it could be outstanding warrants, or the fact that they're entrepreneurs and MAJOR technology players in a market were people have more money than 50 cent got bullet wounds, and I wouldn't want to hurt them. I'm loyal to my friends.
Break You Self Fool!!!!
Anyway, one of Mole buddies just escaped the clutches of the Indians and their bingo to come back to Texas and take over a radio station. So, the Mole would like to invite everyone around Jacksboro and the surrounding area to check out the morning show on Boss 95.5. Jared Knight (not an alias) has moved from America's version of a third world country to become the morning talent and program director at this newly formed station, and I expect good things from the boy.
Anyway, one of Mole buddies just escaped the clutches of the Indians and their bingo to come back to Texas and take over a radio station. So, the Mole would like to invite everyone around Jacksboro and the surrounding area to check out the morning show on Boss 95.5. Jared Knight (not an alias) has moved from America's version of a third world country to become the morning talent and program director at this newly formed station, and I expect good things from the boy.
Thursday, January 18
Uh-merica
For those of you wondering what it's like to grow up and live in a small town in East Texas, just rent the latest Mike Judge (Office Space, Beavis & Butt-Head, King of the Hill) film Idiocracy. Granted, it's not the greatest movie in the world, but it has a few good laughs and presents a pretty sobering picture of the kind of world we're in for if the Federlines are allowed to keep reproducing at their current exponential rate.
"You see gentlemen, a pimp's love is very different then a square's."
"You see gentlemen, a pimp's love is very different then a square's."
Monday, January 15
Cover Song, Thou Art A Villain
So, the ol' Mole is at work today just minding my own business, printing reports, and what not. Then, I hear it, for the 902nd bagillionth time. You know, it's bad enough that we have some terrible XM radio pumped through my department day after day, but some of the songs that come across this channel seem to have a daily play quota. Most of this stuff is 80s, 90s, and current decade pop, you know, stuff that's overly produced, processed, and is as easily forgettable as the latest Panic at The Disco type garbage. Primarily it's stuff you can listen to and not mind. That is, unless, you have depth of Paris Hilton, or Tara Reid. Then, I'm sure it'll like totally speak to you and your depressing life as you're in your BMW/H2 that mommy and daddy bought you for your 16th birfday, while fumbling through your purse for your Blackberry just to send a text message to your BFF to remind her of your pedicure appointment.
*Sigh*
For the rest of us, we have lives to live and while it's not what I would personally choose to occupy my ears, it's not all that bad. Listening to music of this type is like taking a crap: In mid loaf, I know it's there; but tomorrow there will be another, and it'll still be crap. Oh it might be dressed up or packaged different, but I know it's still crap. *cough* Pink, Fall Out Boy *cough*
This brings me to a certain choice that is played for what seems to be at least 6 times daily. This song is so rancid, and so horrid that it can't just be dismissed as simple crap. The stank from this is that which is born and brewed is the lowest of the bowls. It's a beer shit, it's loose, it's greasy, it's runny, it's the day after pounding back a case of Budweiser (known as Bud Fat round these parts). You can't stand it when it comes, and you can't wait for it to be over, and that my friends is Tim McGraw's version of "When the Stars Go Blue".
It must have been a monumental day for Tim when he woke up and decided to record this song. I can just imagine the conversation he had with Faith Hill:
Seriously. This song, which was written and recorded for Ryan Adam's second album Gold in 2001, is absolutely beautiful. It's just one in a long line of great songs he has written and recorded, lucky for us, Tim McGraw's management must have thought so too. So, he ruined it. For the rednecks, and fake ass cowboys out there in your over starched shirts, and stranglers; or for those of you who have never done a single hard day's work on a farm, and wouldn't be able to tell the difference between a steer and a bull, you're not fooling anyone. The simple fact that you'd buy and listen to this drivel means that you are, in fact, not country. You're as processed as Velveeta, Avril Lavinge, post Death Row Tupac, 'N Sync, The All-American Rejects, and Tim McGraw.
The Mole hates you.
*Sigh*
For the rest of us, we have lives to live and while it's not what I would personally choose to occupy my ears, it's not all that bad. Listening to music of this type is like taking a crap: In mid loaf, I know it's there; but tomorrow there will be another, and it'll still be crap. Oh it might be dressed up or packaged different, but I know it's still crap. *cough* Pink, Fall Out Boy *cough*
This brings me to a certain choice that is played for what seems to be at least 6 times daily. This song is so rancid, and so horrid that it can't just be dismissed as simple crap. The stank from this is that which is born and brewed is the lowest of the bowls. It's a beer shit, it's loose, it's greasy, it's runny, it's the day after pounding back a case of Budweiser (known as Bud Fat round these parts). You can't stand it when it comes, and you can't wait for it to be over, and that my friends is Tim McGraw's version of "When the Stars Go Blue".
It must have been a monumental day for Tim when he woke up and decided to record this song. I can just imagine the conversation he had with Faith Hill:
TM: Honey, I can't decide what to do today, get hair plugs for my bald ass head, or butcher a great song written but another much more talented country artist, and put it on my greatest hits CD.
FH: Tommy
TM: It's Timmy
FH: Whatever, look, I'm too busy snorting coke and counting money to deal with your problems. Just drop our kids off at the nanny for the weekend and make sure to stop by the Home Depot on the way home and pick up some day laborers. I quit banging bald guys after "Breath".
TM: Do they need to speak English?
FH: No, they just can't be bald, oh yeah, and you have to watch again you no talent hack. WHERE ARE MY PLATINUM RAZORS!!!!!!!!!!! I CAN'T LINE THIS SHIT UP WITH STAINLESS STEAL!!!!!!!!
Seriously. This song, which was written and recorded for Ryan Adam's second album Gold in 2001, is absolutely beautiful. It's just one in a long line of great songs he has written and recorded, lucky for us, Tim McGraw's management must have thought so too. So, he ruined it. For the rednecks, and fake ass cowboys out there in your over starched shirts, and stranglers; or for those of you who have never done a single hard day's work on a farm, and wouldn't be able to tell the difference between a steer and a bull, you're not fooling anyone. The simple fact that you'd buy and listen to this drivel means that you are, in fact, not country. You're as processed as Velveeta, Avril Lavinge, post Death Row Tupac, 'N Sync, The All-American Rejects, and Tim McGraw.
The Mole hates you.
Thursday, January 11
Requiem For The Cowboys
I'm going to make this short because having to think of the last moments of the Cowboy's loss to the Seahawks makes me want to hit kittens with a hammer.
Our Motto: "The only good cat is a dead cat."
That being said, Tony Romo got was he deserved on Saturday night. You see Tony, when you date a vegetarian country singer, you'll forget how to handle the leather, bub.
Drew Bledsoe live blogged the event from the sidelines because we all know a QB of his stature doesn't hold a clip-board. Check his thoughts here.
Wednesday, January 10
So A BCS Team Walks Into A Bar
First, apologies to those of you that have been visiting regularly and found nothing. It's not the fact that I'm a lazy, though the mole is most certainly that, it's just that it's been the holidays, I was off work, and there were copious amounts of alcohol to consume, not to mention my Granddad nearly biting it the day before Christmas. Since I already lost a grandparent years ago on Christmas day, I hope all of you can understand the lackluster effort I put into this thing lately, I was a little pre-occupied.
However, it's 2007, Granddaddy is still alive, it's almost NASCAR time again, so on-ward!
So the bowl season ended with that FANTASTIC BCS Championship Game Brought to by Tostitos - Tostitos: The official corn chip of those that like corn, but don't like to see it in their poop the next day.
Anyway, since we now have a definitive National Champion in Appalachian State, I'd like to run down the teams of the BCS Bowls as chicks you might run into down at your local pub.
Last Resort - These are the average girls. They're really nothing you'd kick out of bed unless they eff'd better on the floor, but lets face it; Wake Forest and Louisville, nobody gives two shits about you until we're half a case deep and the bar is closing in 30mins. Mole says thanks but no thanks.
Athletic - You know these girls; they're on the basketball/softball/volleyball team. They were always the ones you could get to play intramurals, and you never had to pick up Parrot Bay if they came over, Natty Light was always good enough. We love you girls, you're really cool, and we love the fact we never had to brush our teeth when you showed up at noon on Saturday to wake us up for a burger after an all night binge, and the subsequent all day binge to come. You're a little too beefy for us Michigan and Ohio State but we like ya.
Cock Tease - You know ‘em, you hang out with ‘em, you hate the new ones you meet. They spend 3 hours getting ready to go to a smoke filled bar. When you meet them, they make sure to wear something as low cut as humanly possible, jeans that were painted on, and enough perfume to gag a maggot. They rub your thigh all night, whisper in your ear, and when you get them home, they bar you from the bed room, give you a pillow, a blanket, and point you to the couch. No matter how persistent you can be you wind up in the dark, on the couch, and 8 miles from home, with no car. F her, I walked home, I mean, you should just walk home at 5am just to show her the only reason why you were over there in the first place; and F you Notre Dame.
Local Trash - Yeah, we've all been there. They're on a stool every Friday and Saturday, sometimes in the same clothes. God Bless 'em, they're good looking old faithfuls, but they've all been road hard and put away wet. We like ya LSU, and Florida, you’re always there, but I'm afraid I'll get something I can't wash off.
Attention Whore - Always dressed, always loud, wants to be the center of attention at all times. Just go away USC, we're sick of you.
Catch and Release - This is the chick you see from across the room, she looks really good. You’ll catch sight of her walking away and WOW, check that out, you can play quarters off that ass! As you're sitting with you buddies the bartender gives you a beer from the lady on the end. WHAT?! That chick bought me a drink? It's time to close this deal. You walk up, you smile, she smiles, and there's a chipped tooth, plus it's brown to top it off. BOOMER!!!! You can't believe it, but it looks like playing on the west coast got you "dealt wit".
Drinking Man's Redemption - You drank yourself out of the game, you can barely complete a sentence, and yet, you wake up the next morning with two chicks that look like Desperado Salma Hayek, and Jessica Biel. You panic! Damn you Cutty Sark and water (hey it's the holidays, we're broke and drinking cheap scotch), you can't remember anything! But, you look up and find the tri-pod, with a video camera, and the red light still on. Instant Classic, we’ll watch this for years.
God Bless you Boise State
However, it's 2007, Granddaddy is still alive, it's almost NASCAR time again, so on-ward!
So the bowl season ended with that FANTASTIC BCS Championship Game Brought to by Tostitos - Tostitos: The official corn chip of those that like corn, but don't like to see it in their poop the next day.
Anyway, since we now have a definitive National Champion in Appalachian State, I'd like to run down the teams of the BCS Bowls as chicks you might run into down at your local pub.
Last Resort - These are the average girls. They're really nothing you'd kick out of bed unless they eff'd better on the floor, but lets face it; Wake Forest and Louisville, nobody gives two shits about you until we're half a case deep and the bar is closing in 30mins. Mole says thanks but no thanks.
Athletic - You know these girls; they're on the basketball/softball/volleyball team. They were always the ones you could get to play intramurals, and you never had to pick up Parrot Bay if they came over, Natty Light was always good enough. We love you girls, you're really cool, and we love the fact we never had to brush our teeth when you showed up at noon on Saturday to wake us up for a burger after an all night binge, and the subsequent all day binge to come. You're a little too beefy for us Michigan and Ohio State but we like ya.
Cock Tease - You know ‘em, you hang out with ‘em, you hate the new ones you meet. They spend 3 hours getting ready to go to a smoke filled bar. When you meet them, they make sure to wear something as low cut as humanly possible, jeans that were painted on, and enough perfume to gag a maggot. They rub your thigh all night, whisper in your ear, and when you get them home, they bar you from the bed room, give you a pillow, a blanket, and point you to the couch. No matter how persistent you can be you wind up in the dark, on the couch, and 8 miles from home, with no car. F her, I walked home, I mean, you should just walk home at 5am just to show her the only reason why you were over there in the first place; and F you Notre Dame.
Local Trash - Yeah, we've all been there. They're on a stool every Friday and Saturday, sometimes in the same clothes. God Bless 'em, they're good looking old faithfuls, but they've all been road hard and put away wet. We like ya LSU, and Florida, you’re always there, but I'm afraid I'll get something I can't wash off.
Attention Whore - Always dressed, always loud, wants to be the center of attention at all times. Just go away USC, we're sick of you.
Catch and Release - This is the chick you see from across the room, she looks really good. You’ll catch sight of her walking away and WOW, check that out, you can play quarters off that ass! As you're sitting with you buddies the bartender gives you a beer from the lady on the end. WHAT?! That chick bought me a drink? It's time to close this deal. You walk up, you smile, she smiles, and there's a chipped tooth, plus it's brown to top it off. BOOMER!!!! You can't believe it, but it looks like playing on the west coast got you "dealt wit".
Drinking Man's Redemption - You drank yourself out of the game, you can barely complete a sentence, and yet, you wake up the next morning with two chicks that look like Desperado Salma Hayek, and Jessica Biel. You panic! Damn you Cutty Sark and water (hey it's the holidays, we're broke and drinking cheap scotch), you can't remember anything! But, you look up and find the tri-pod, with a video camera, and the red light still on. Instant Classic, we’ll watch this for years.
God Bless you Boise State
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