Author: Jacko

*cues Vienna Boys Choir*
*gives signal*
*everyone drinks*

You didn’t think I’d have them sing did you? What kind of sick fuck do you think I am?

The title doesn’t lie, my friends, today is the annual celebration of the earthly naturalization of our progenitor, the CEO of this simian-infested playground, Sharkey. So, if you’ve got one, take a minute and drop by the forums to wish the MoFo a happy birthday and a thanks for keeping this place running for so long.

[Sharkey’s Birthday Thread]

And remember MoFos, when you talk to God, it is called Religion. When God talks to you, it is called schizophrenia.

(Note: to precur any suspicions of falsehoods in the information contained in this post, I assure you up front that I have throughly checked the following for typographical errors and mis-typed statements. I also did not make it up.)

[She can’t cut you off is she doesn’t know where you are getting it]

A Modesto man has died after his wife held him down and bit him repeatedly when he refused to have sex with her, police said.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!

*feeble attempt to catch breath*

Ahahaahahahahaahahhahahaha!

*regaining some composure*

That’s too bad. If he could have hung on another week he might have gotten a free taco.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!

…

Well, before you get too excited, it is Taco Bell food, which, according to any self-respecting USDA scientist, is slightly above rocks and a bit below pokemon cards in nutritional value.

Barry Bonds could end up feeding the nation during the San Francisco Giants’ coming World Series home stand if he launches one of his trademark home runs onto a target set up by Taco Bell in the cove behind the right-field fence at Pacific Bell Park.

Taco Bell is installing a 15-foot diameter floating target in McCovey Cove where kayakers and row boaters often bob up and down waiting for a classic Bonds splash down. If Bonds, or any other player from the Giants or the Anaheim Angels, hits the floating target with a home run ball, everyone in America is entitled to a free taco, the food chain proclaimed Monday. [Story]

But it is free, dammit. (though I get the feeling it is “free” as in the type advertised in FREE AOL!—It could possibly be called “free”, if the definition of free was changed to mean “trading your dignity for a shitty, overpriced ISP contract with a shitty, overvalued company”. Though here you could keep a little dignity and possibly get a taco.)

So, I pretty much suck at the baseball lore, tell me baseball mofos, is this one of those gimmicks like hitting a hole in one on a par 5, the prize is up there because it is pretty much theoretically impossible and if you were to pull it off you should be carried out of the stadium on the shoulders of your teammates while hordes of fans sing the familiar “he’s a jolly good fellow”? (Or are we having free tacos this week?

They are three, young black Muslim-Americans who are in a religious rap group called Native Deen, based in a suburb of Washington, D.C. — and they’re part of a growing trend of singing or rapping about Islam.

They rap about growing up, being teased by other kids, saying no to drugs, doing well in school and praying.

But one figure is mentioned over and over again in their songs … Allah. [Story]

I must admit that I have always thought that any musical group that relies more on “message” than “music” has just manufactured a polite way of admitting to themselves that they suck, and they can’t hold a regular job. “If we went ‘mainstream'” they all say, “we would be popular. But we won’t sell out”.

Well, as it turns out, this actually has some truth—if the majority of these message bands were to go mainstream, then kill themselves and hire new musicians and/or a group of rock ’em sock ’em robots to replace them and their self-righteous message, they might have a chance at creating some decent music.

So, naturally, when Native Deen poked its Islamic head into my foxnews this morning, I was a little predisposed to assume failure. But, let me assure you, my opinion turned 360° when I experienced the lyrical onslaught that is Native Deen:

“What’s with the scarf girl, rapped up like a mummy.
They all made jokes and they said that you look funny.
You ran into the bathroom and your friends began to scoff.
After that encounter you had planned to take it off.
But then you thought how much Allah likes how your dressin’.
Pleasin’ him was top priority to you no question.”

Well, at least they didn’t take lame poetry they wrote for a 3rd grade writing assignment, laid down a bass track and called it rap, then expected people to take them seriously.

Wait a minute.

Update: Resident staffer NHDJ1 has just informed me that Fox News had the “toned-down” image of Native Deen on their website (which I shamelessly lifted rather than pull one from my personal collection). To quell the jitters in your pants after hearing that, I present the “original” hardcore image of the holy rap trio, compliments of NHDJ1:

werd.

Two people struggled to subdue a Palestinian suicide bomber before he blew himself up Thursday at a bus stop near Tel Aviv, killing a woman, according to medical sources and Israeli police.

Many were able to evacuate the area before the man detonated the belt.

Neuman said as soon as passengers were off the bus the passenger helping him pin down the bomber looked at him and said: “We must let go together and run. We flew out of there. Then the bomber got up, walked a few meters and exploded.” [Story]

I just wanted to make sure that you were all aware that you should never do this. First of all, if you are dumb enough to play hero, at least have the sense to pin the other guy while you run for safety.

*Me and other guy pin down the bomber*
Other guy: Oh shit! This guy has more explosives than a motherfucker!
Me: My friend, there comes a time in a bowler’s life when he has to step up
Me: …and that bowler is you.
Me: *runs away*

I cheat at video games too.

A 75-year-old Bridgeport man has admitted impregnating a 10-year-old girl and is facing a lengthy prison sentence. Jimmie Kave pleaded guilty Tuesday in Superior Court to charges of sexual assault and risk of injury to a minor. [Story]

Now, my first assumption was that this guy is a sick fucker who should be castrated with a plastic picnic knife, have his kneecaps drilled (by spade) with a medium-sized masonry bit, have his toenails removed, and be forced to spend the rest of his life watching re-runs of the Golden Girls and poorly capped copies of Granny Gangbangs 4.

But, after reading the story in its entirety, I realize that maybe I was a little “quick to judge”. In his testimony to police, this child molester reveals a hidden darkside!

Kave admitted having a sexual relationship with the girl beginning when she was 10, but claims she enticed him, police said. Kave told police the girl would have sex in exchange for the new clothes and presents he gave her.

Now I can’t decide which is more fucked up—impregnating a 10-year old girl in exchange for pretty ponies and powerpuff girls® branded clothing, or being able to actually tell police that you were “enticed” by said 10-year old.

KLF?

I took a few rolls of film for processing this week, and instead of getting the standard “you are a cheap bastard” regular service, I opted for the premium service which includes (I am not making this up) a premium cardboard picture case, negative sleeves, and hosting for your photos on-line.

Yesterday, I get my pictures back, and not surprisingly the only noticeable difference was the word “premium” stamped across the photo paper on the back (though the negatives were indeed sleeved). Fair enough. In addition, there is a card with instructions on how to view my on-line pictures. Standard goto wwwdot stuff, but it also included a number that looks much like the following:

roll id: ddiek33930fjkelldpexolkdjd9303830fifo909303039
pick up code: 438494005958859505059

Only the actual numbers were much longer. (I trimmed it down here to keep us within our bandwidth quota). Remember this is for a single roll. I think that somehow the roll id and pick up code are hashed together and converted to binary forming 24 640 x 480 jpegs, making it so the images do not actually have to be stored on the server. Or something. Naturally the first thing that pops into my head when I see this is “Please lord don’t make me type that.” Now, I am a horrible typist, and lazy on top of that. My rule is if it can written once, it can be cut & pasted twice. I somehow think that this roll id has something to do with pi but I can’t exactly prove it (mostly since I do not have any idea what pi actually is).

I finally get the roll id and pick up code entered, and given my “I am willing to do a small amount of work for reward” personality, I felt OK enduring a little heartache to get to my goal. Well, I guess I didn’t quite realize how bad it has gotten.

It seems that our parents, grandparents, in-laws, and exs, as well as the in-bred dipshits these companies hire, have forced us to take the term “user friendly” to exorbitant and outlandishly extreme levels in order to accommodate the less competent among us. To demonstrate, here is a “tip” I extracted from this site:

Since I wasn’t quite to the “I am ready to smash the usability design committee over the skull with a crowbar” stage yet, this made me chuckle.

On to finding my pictures and download them.

I click on the first roll, and 20 seconds later thumbnails for the first 6 images show up. I click one, and 20 seconds later, a 50% size single image shows up (about 400 x 400). Now, It seems simple enough to think “20 seconds” and be done with it, but in this day and age 20 seconds of waiting is a veritable lifetime. I haven’t felt loading pain like this since my days of searching for porn on my 486 windows 95 machine over a 14k modem (type yahoo.com into address bar and search for “pussy”—interlaced, motherfucker, do you speak it?). Those days also provide me the notoriety of being one of the few suckers in the world who has actually paid for an Internet browser, but that is another story that should never, ever be told (Netscape 3.0 gold off the shelf).

Anyway, I am ready to download this roll, so I click download. Apparently downloading multiple images is way too difficult for the average user, but I don’t think even the goatse man himself could have prepared me for the shock I received trying to download using this 2-step process:

*loads gun*

*shoots self*

The whole process to download a single image takes roughly 3 minutes, door-to-door, from my T3. Elementary math (windows calculator, cause I suck at math): 3 rolls at 24 exposures each, 3 minutes each exposure. About 3 and a half hours to download all three rolls, not including the time it takes to run 72 self-extracting executables.

Even since I tapped into the sickening power of the Internet, I have vaguely realized its potential which has somewhat prepared me for many things I have experienced, including (recently, since I have shit for memory) beej, TBA (both of whom I have learned to love and appreciate), furies, LARPs, and many other things I don’t even feel comfortable talking about over the anonymity the Internet provides.

But I never imagined I would be offered an executable to download a single 400k image.

It brings a whole new meaning to the term “lowest common denominator.” Welcome to the Internet, 2002.

Baby boomer Jim Zimmerman’s brief fling as a tough biker ended in pain very quickly. The retiree’s misadventure began when, facing 60, he gave into a youthful yen and got a local dealership to deliver a brand-new Harley-Davidson to his door.

Ten seconds after he climbed aboard for the first time, he struck a neighbor’s utility trailer at 40 mph and broke several ribs. The odometer logged a tenth of a mile. [Story]

And in order to do so I need to provide some background information:

The owner of a snack shop was tried and sentenced to death Monday after he confessed to killing dozens of people by poisoning food at a rival shop in eastern China, a court official said.

Now, look at this:

15 days. Score one for communism. For their terse efforts in detoxifying the gene pool, we are pleased to present, to the People’s Republic of China, the BAMF Award for Not Fucking Around:

Like Sharkey said, keep the acceptance speech to a minimum.

It looks like the king of cry Jesse Jackson has been out of the media for too long (by too long I mean over a month), which means that it is time for him to jump back into the ring of political activism, swing some fists, and save the black man from oppression. Well, either that or save him from making a buck by *gasp* cracking jokes at the holy trinity of black civil rights.

The hit movie Barbershop may be a comedy, but some of its jokes are no laughing matter for political activist Jesse Jackson. Jackson is insisting that the producers of the No. 1 movie cut out jokes about Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King Jr. and others from future DVD, cable and video editions of the film. That demand comes even though he said he was happy that the producers apologized for the barbs in the movie.

In Barbershop, Cedric the Entertainer plays an old cantankerous barber who jokes about King’s alleged promiscuity. The character also says other blacks refused to give up their seats to whites in the segregated south, but that Rosa Parks got the credit because she was connected to the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People. He also directs an expletive at Jackson.

Being the open minded person that we all agree I am, I can admit that maybe I am being too quick to judge here. Maybe this whole thing isn’t a self-motivated attempt to silence his critics and line his pockets. After all, he is only asking for a few changes to the movie:

Kill whitey.