Drink Rum

At what point can accountability stop at an individual? Why does this country seem to go to polar opposites regarding accountability? It's either no one's fault or it's hundreds of people's fault. There's no individual accountability anymore.

I saw yesterday a series of articles regarding the Va-Tech murders that took place some time ago. Unremarkably, it turns out the gunman who killed 32 people and then himself had some mental issues. That's not a news flash to anyone I think. I mean... really people. The gun was clearly a nut job. And not a fun not job like David Cross or Paris Hilton... who are also nut jobs, but they're funny.

No, when this guy went off the rails he went postal. Hilton goes off the rails and ends up on a coke binge with various parts of her anatomy on in the internet. They're both nuts.

Anyway, the articles were discussing basically all of the assorted people or organizations that could have or should have determined that Johnny Gunslinger was a nut and stopped Operation Shooting Gallery from ever happening. Or as one headline said, "Va-Tech Could Have Prevented Many Deaths" had it had better prepared.

I went to college and worked for several university organizations, including one that was a front line group for dealing with students en route to insanity. No where did I see a plan or procedure for what to do if a kid opens fire. I'm thinking few schools outside of West Virginia have plans for dealing with armed, suicidal kids.

They're also faulting the parents other schools for not identifying the problems that the kid had or sharing information about his previous mental issues. Well... there are a hell of a lot of privacy laws out there these days that stop that. Just FYI, you can't go running around screaming "looney" these days. Which is fine. For every pistolier in training out there, there a hundred unthreatening nuts. I'm a good case in point. Not a day goes by where I don't exhibit some behavior that's abnormal or openly hostile. My current pharmacy grocery list looks like Jerry Garcia's and at least once a week a threaten to burn my office down.

If you've read this blog, you'll know I'm not all there.

If I go on a shooting spree tomorrow, people will dig through my life and find all sorts of reasons why it should have been seen coming.

However, the FBI has dug through my life (twice) and seen fit to award me with all sorts of clearance and physical access to places that they don't let unelected crazy people anywhere near.

Hindsight is 20/20.

If Tech could have stopped Nutty McTrigger from killing those people, they would have. No question. But it's not their fault those kids and teachers died. It's not the parents, it's not the high school guidance counselor, it's not his doctor's, it's not the music he listened to, the people he talked to in the lobby of a hotel five years ago, it's none of that.

The guy was a nut. He murdered 32 people and then killed himself. The accountability died with him.

That's frustrating because people like to feel that they can get their pound of flesh for an injustice and with the killer killing himself... people feel cheated.

It's tough to swallow, but sometimes crazy happens. Sometimes crazy is deadly.

I think it might be better to focus on helping the families move on instead of trying to come up for a million and one hypotheticals regarding "if only".

Have a good holiday weekend everyone and don't do anything too crazy.

Posted by Monty at 4:52 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I think that the government should be required to set up a 100% satisfaction program regarding programs that spend over $100 billion. If that much money is going into a single program, I'd like to be satisfied with it... of get a refund of my tax money spent on it.

The war in Iraq has cost every American $1,000 at this point. That number isn't adjusted for people who don't pay taxes, kids, welfare cases, etc. That's just 300 million people contributing to a $330 billion project.

I want my $1,000 back.

This isn't a political arguement. I could go on and on and on about how George Bush is a mental midget that thinks he's got all the answers (because jesus and his dog gave them to him), but I won't. It really goes beyond Federal incompetence at this point.

I just want my $1,000 back.

My money has purchased me nothing. It's my money... I earned it. I'd like to get something for it.

Hussein is dead. I don't care.
We've brought democracy to Iraq... and they voted into office an idiot. We should have known.
There's a holy war / civil war going on between two groups of people who can't agree on how best to worship their crap god. For some reason we feel that people with centuries of hatred should suddenly get along because we say so.
We're helping the people of Iraq... maybe... but even if we were, I don't care.

I want my money back.

Here's what you do... the Monty solution to the whole problem. Leave them alone.
Leave the Iraqis to the Iraqis. They will kill each other and blow each other up and eventually one side will be left and they can get a free set of steak knives from their crap god or whatever for getting rid of the infidels. It's an old solution. It doesn't work for everyone. But it does work.

If we hadn't been allowed to pick a fight with the British... we wouldn't be here.
If we hadn't been allowed to basically destroy a variety of Indian cultures... we wouldn't be here.
If we hadn't been allowed to steal Texas from Mexico... wait... actually... we should give Texas back to Mexico. Seriously.

Anyway...

I had to stop the post to get yelled at by my boss... so my train of thought derailed. It must not have been that important. Something... Bush is a twit... something about my money... Texas is a hell hole... something... I dunno.

bye!

Posted by Monty at 4:25 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Hey, I just saw that Alberto Gonzalez is resigning. Good for him.

I mean good for the country.

Aside from the fact that he's a slippery weasel of a man, he's also a total jerk.

I met him twice. He's a jerk.

And short.

Nothing too huge to post about today... busy at work and all.

Hey... I did see that Mike Vick made a statement today that he accepts full responsibility for his dog fighting fiasco. I wonder if the NAACP will back off their position that he didn't really do it now.

Probably not.

Posted by Monty at 4:28 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Charlie, you should be thrilled to know that I am going to give your antics last night a pass and not make today's post about your drunken pokerness. Granted, I could easily post pages on what could be dubbed "Charlie Doesn't Have an Indoor Voice". Or about your stealthy moves climbing over a saddle or you logical flaw regarding whether or not Pam was serious about shoving a glass of water up your ass. (She was.) Enough on that.

Actually, not... Pam, thanks for hosting the poker party. It was good fun. Also, thanks for the Scotch. 12 year old single malt goodness. E-mail me the label if you don't mind. Also, also... I owe you $5. I did some math wrong during payout.

So... I'm in an absolutely foul mood. I'm quite tired. I've been fighting sinus problems for a week. Work was a mess. I just feel completely drained. So today's post will be a mean one. Oh yeah, I was almost run off the road today by a swarthy teen in a low-rider on the way to work. He got double middle fingers and had I not been late for work I might have followed him so as to hit him in the head with a tire iron. Probably not. Maybe. I thought about it. Good segue...

I hate people that seem to think that their entitled to something. Like the butt hole in traffic, Mike Vick (yeah I'm gonna talk about him) seems to think that because he's a star athlete (ath-uh-leet) with $100 million he can do whatever he wants.

Those of you who follow things, know what this is about, but for those that don't:

Mike Vick is an over-rated thug of an a$$ who is the quarterback for the Atlanta Falcons.
He was charged with federal charges resulting from his purchasing a piece of property for use in illegal dog fights, for organizing a gambling operation, and for the slaughter of dogs.

Mike Vick has plead guilty to a conspiracy charge to operate a dog fighting ring. He has also admitted through his lawyer that his actions caused the destruction of six dogs. This is all from court papers.

These are all Federal charges. Virginia is setting up its own set.

So fine. Vick is a disgusting human being. He goes to jail. He loses millions. His career is ruined. All perfectly fine.

But now come the apologists. The NAACP is saying that Vick's admission of guilt isn't really an admission of guilt... it's him just cutting his losses. It's really the witnesses who have made sworn testimony that VIck killed dogs who are out to save themselves. The NAACP also thinks that the NFL shouldn't punish him and that Nike should give him his endorsements back. I remember when the NAACP had a concern about black role models in society. Shame on you NAACP, shame on you.

Several NFL players have come out to defend Vick too. Most cite the fact that Vick came from a horrible inner city childhood and dog fights were a part of his culture. Ya know... I've know lots of people from that type of background... none of them ever got millions of dollars... none of them ran dog fighting rings... at some point you have to take responsibility for yourself. It's not always society. Sometimes... the problem is you.

Clinton Portis, who I hope breaks his other shoulder, supported Vick using the "they're his dogs, he can do what he wants to with them". 150 years ago, people could have made the same statement referring to slavery.

Several folks have talked about how Vick should be given a pass because of his superior athletic ability and all of the good things he's done. Sure. I guess if OJ gets off, let's let everyone run amuck.

Then there's the hunting arguement. If you kill a deer... it's hunting. If you kill a dog, it's a crime.

Except you don't breed the deer. You don't train the deer. You aren't responsible for the personality instilled on the deer. The deer doesn't look to you to provide for its livelihood. The deer doesn't trust you.

The saddest thing about it all is that as Vick was smashing his dog's head against a wall trying to kill it... the dog's thoughts were probably of trying to figure out what it did wrong to so anger its companion.

I can't think of a punishment gruesome enough for him. I was thinking he should either be fed to dogs or maybe have his head smashed in with a brick or maybe even electrocution until he catches fire.

Or maybe he should have to come to my house and play with my fun dogs and see what he's been destroying.

Or both.

Posted by Monty at 1:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

So we're just a couple of weeks away from the grand opening of the football season. I am excited.

Some how this year, I snoozed on my normal football prep. I think it's because I didn't go to the beach this year. Usually I head down to Myrtle Beach for a week in August and one of the things I do is catch up on the football. So I've been trying to think, though, about why I like pro-football so much.

Firstly, I think professional sports are over-hyped wastes of time and money. Every one of them. With the exception of football, I cannot spend a minute watching someone else play a game. I've been to football, baseball, soccer, swim meets, track meets, all sorts of things. And with the exception of pro-football, have bored the hell out of me. I love to play games (and some sports) myself, but not watch them.

I used to play football. I loved it. I played defensive middle linebacker and was a pass rush specialist. My job was to make pretty boys (quarterbacks) and meat heads (running backs) eat as much dirt as possible. My best game, I got 6 sacks, 10 tackles, and caused 4 fumbles (recovering 3). It was great, great fun. But then I had my first run in with the knee fairy. That ended my ability to play contact sports.

In college, I coached intermural football for two years and won the championship both times with two different teams. That was also fun.

But going to a game as a spectator just doesn't interest me. If someone invites me to a baseball game... all I hear is, "Do you want to drink beer and eat peanuts outside?" And that's fine because I do like to do that. But the fact that there are people running around on the grass with a stick doesn't get me going.

I've been to one pro-basketball game and I have to admit that it was the worst experience ever. I was bored out of my mind. They go left... then they go right... then left again... then right... back and forth... back and forth... boring.

I used to watch women's softball and soccer a lot. That was fun... but not particularly because of the sport... it just usually meant that I was crushing on a player (or three).

So pro-football... why is that the exception? I think it has to do with fantasy football. I really started getting into it after I started doing the fantasy thing. I was in a big money league for a while and managed to win a pretty substantial amount of money out of that for about four years. I can say that Marshall Faulk alone won me several thousand dollars. He's my hero. So yeah, I think that's the big thing. The fact that the game isn't passive makes it enjoyable.

Although that doesn't explain why I love going to a Redskins game. At first I thought it was because of the experiences I had there. When I was with Unisys, I got to use the company box suite at FedEx to watch the game. That was unreal... free buffet, open bar, 50 yard line seats... it's the kinda thing most people never see in their lifetime. My dad took me to a game with my mother and brother-in-law and we got into another suite. So those are awesome experiences. But I also had a blast sitting up in the nose-bleeds when I went to a game with Mat. I dunno. It's just a lot of fun.

I don't know if I'll get out to a game this year. I hope to do so. It's just so expensive to get tickets.

I had a point to this post, but it got derailed. I'll get back to it tomorrow. In the meantime, I'm reconsidering my anti-baseball stance. I found myself downloading a baseball game for my PS3 last week. Who knows... I may end up a Yankees fan.

Posted by Monty at 12:58 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Ow, my fricken head!

I think I've got a sinus infection. There's enough pressure behind my eyes that I think with little effort I could fire one (maybe both) across the room. I'd rather not do that. My whole head needs a "Warning Contents Under Pressure" label. Enough on that.

This weekend I got to see one of my most favoritest people in the whole world. We went to the museums in DC and ended up heckling people. We did get to see a bum fight... which was pretty cool. For the record... a black bum does not take kindly to the "n" word from a white bum. Who knew? There's nothing quite as parity defining as sitting at an outdoor pub drinking Guinness while bums fight for your amusement. I felt very Roman.

So, Courtney, is awesome. For those that have visited an of my dwellings in the past 15 years, you'd know her as the person who gave me the giant inflatible sausage and also the scary bottle opener. If you don't know what I mean by scary bottle opener, you've never seen it. It's the cat-man-penis-guy-thing. No trends there, surely.

So anyway... seeing her was groovy. Too short though. We'll be getting together more often I hope. Part of my Operation Don't Wait Five Years to See People plan.

What else is new? Not much.

Today I've been occupying my time by sending inappropriate e-mails to people who foolishly gave me their White House e-mail addresses. For those who don't know, White House e-mail is subject to searches and is a federal record. Well... unless you're Karl Rove (fat sack) or Alberto Gonzalez (el jefe tortudora)... those guys get a pass. I think the subject of today's inappropriate e-mail thread revolves around a known homosexual molesting cats. It's the little things really.

Also... if you're really bored and want some good reading... put in a FIOA request to the White House for all e-mails containing the word "Monty" from 1996-2005.

There's some damn good reading in there. Although I'm pretty there's a six month gap in there where there isn't anything... I have no idea why that would be.

You'll have to wait for my book.

Chapter 7 - The Ballad of the Vanishing E-Mails (or I Swear It Was Right Here!)

Heh... I'm so going to be disappeared one day.

Posted by Monty at 1:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I was out on my deck yesterday and found myself deep in thought. I was home sick from work and I was catching the sunset at a time I'd usually have been a work.

The time of day that I found captivating me was that hour or so before dusk or sunset. When the sun is sinking quickly and everything gets kinda orange tinted and casts very long shadows. Whenever I see that, it always reminds me of when I was a kid... yikes... 21 years ago. I remember sitting on my bike that I ridden to the top of this huge dirt mound and I could see out over the area. It was an area several miles from my house that I'd ride to to get away from my neighborhood. There was a 7 Eleven there and I'd buy a Slurpee and play video games until I ran out of quarters. Then I would always lose track of time and have to ride my bike back through the woods in the dark.

That time of day has always been special to me. At the beach, it's when all of the families are gone and the life guards have packed up. It's just me and the beach.

It's the end of the day and the beginning of the night.

I've started to realize why I like the night so much more than the day. During the day, I'm dancing to someone else's music. I do a job, someone pays me. I don't pick the company I keep. I do the boring shuffle that everyone else does.

At night, I do what I want. I choose who I spend my nights with and don't have to answer to anyone really.

Perhaps that's why I don't sleep at night much... maybe my mind doesn't want to waste "playtime" on something so silly as sleep. Who knows?

In the meantime, I'll just keep remembering sitting on my bike on a hill.

Posted by Monty at 2:20 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I was recently informed that my obsessee Christina Applegate has called it splits with her husband.

I always knew she couldn't stay away from me. All those nights I dreamt of us together have finally paid off.

Now all I have to do is figure out how to get a beautiful Hollywood starlet to fall for an outta shape thirty-something guy.

I think I've got enough drugs that I could swing that... I just have to figure out how to get them into her. Do you think she'd be too clever to fall for a random fan letter containing a mystery pill with a note that said, "Eat Me and Call My Cell Phone"?

I think I'll need to work on that.

I actually almost ran into her once in Las Vegas at the MTV music awards (aka Suckularity Contest). I thought it was her but it turned out to be P-Diddy in drag.

Posted by Monty at 10:30 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

OK, firstly... Matt... shame on you for mentioning Top Pot. Shame on you. I suddenly have the craving for a Bavarian Creme Chocolate Frosted monster of a donut. Shame shame. I'm going to go to Dunkin' Donuts and punch the baker in the mouth for failure to live up to my dream pastry. Beware "time to make the donuts" guy, beware.

Sleeper, I don't know why you found the last post so funny. I think it's sad. Fat people can't help being fat. It's God's will. Being fat is god's will and being gay is a choice. Like paper or plastic. We didn't evolve from monkeys we just like to dress them up like people and make them ride around on tricycles. The big bang was what leveled Sodom. Jesus rode into Salt Lake City in a covered wagon pulled by dinosaurs. Carl Sagan is of the devil. Islamic folks are good people as long as they act Christian. What was my point? Oh... Karl Rove is a big fat sack.

He actually told me once that he was proud of his baldness. He said that god talks to you straight through your skull and hair is like a god voice muffler. I said that in dogma, god's voice made people explode... didn't he need an Alan Rickman to hear god? He made a frowny face and had me detained as a non-combatant, hate monger. Actually, I have no idea what he said to me... I couldn't tell what he said through his mouth full of Twinkies and Slim Jims.

Today is Wednesday. Is it? I'm guessing. I dunno. I'm all about the weekends.

A few more days of boredom and then the weekend. I'll be downtown this weekend... doing the museum thing. I like museums but if I get bored I tend to start making fun of certain things.

I know that's amazing.

There was something else I was going to post, but now I've forgotten.

Oh well.

Oh... I know...

Hey Karl Rove, I hope you choke on that ham sammich you bloated flesh sphere. You need to hit the treadmill... you're starting to develop your own gravity field. I swear to god I saw an MTV satelite swinging around your ass. That would explain MTV's poor programing these days.

Posted by Monty at 12:29 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Wow... can you imagine my excitement to read the paper and find that Karl Rove (hereafter to be referred to as the Pillsbury Nazi) is leaving his position at the White House?

I'm thrilled. Thrilled thrilled thrilled.

Pilly has indirectly been responsible for some of the worst factionalization (Webster?) this country has seen in a long time. Something that stuck with me along time ago was in reading Thomas Jefferson, he repeatedly came back to the notion that factions would be the downfall of the US. Ol' Poppin' Fresh was a real mastermind of driving wedges into the population to further Dubs agenda. I'd argue, though, that if I wanted to get elected, I'd want to have my own Roundboy helping me. He was very good at what he did. I'd also think that after getting elected, I'd cut The Turdler loose. While he might be an election winning machine, he's done nothing for the country at best and at worst he's started the trend of marginalizing real issues for panic issues to produce fear and loathing in the American public.

It does crack me up a bit that Rovey the Wonder Whale feels victimized by the Dems. How can anyone be a vicitim of the Dems? That's like being a victim of Casper the Friendlt Ghost. Dr. Pudge said that he felt he like Moby Dick to the Dems Ahab.

You were half right, fat boy.

Yes, I know... it's a cheap shot to make fun of the fact that Karl Rove is a hefty round schmoo of a man. And I know that it's immature and poorly advised to point at his shiney bald head and laugh at the cruelty that nature played on him by cursing his great brain to live in a fortress of fat. All that aside, I bet that man has the worst body odor on a hot August day.

Seriously though, I have nothing against him.

Except that he should lay off the KFC big boy buckets.

I mean jeezy creezy dude, have you seen yourself?

Ugh.

Fat sack of human debris.

But seriously... good luck in the future Karl. Stay in touch... don't ever change! You Uncle Fester looking douche bag.

Posted by Monty at 4:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

OK, so it's very rare that I'll own up to my own buttheadedness (Dear Webster, I have invented a new word....) but I will do so now.

Matt, your previous comment was very appropriate. I did need to find my muse and fortunately that has happened.

Interestingly enough, it seemed to be more of a case of my muse finding me than the other way around. For that I am fortunate.

So the muse has returned... well not completely... the muse is in Iowa right now trying to teach children creative techniques for making crop circles and trying to motivate Survivor into making a non-State Fair come back tour.

It's the eye of the tiger and something something something and something something somethin something hmmm hmmm rival.

So... ummm... yeah. This is all true.

Or I've made it all up.

I've forgotten what the question was.

I guess the bottom line is that the blog isn't going to be off line for a few weeks after all. There might be a lull or two here and there... but I'll do my damnedness (Dear Webster...) to get something out that's slightly silly on a regular basis.

Thanks Mateo.

Posted by Monty at 12:06 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

What a miserable 24 hours I've endured. I'll warn readers in advance that I'm extremely tired at the moment having suffered through a total failure of a software patch last night and then compounded my misery by eliminating the only thing I was looking forward to in the future.

So last night reminded me two things at work. One is that I work extremely well under pressure. Whether I work well without it remains to be seen, but I do have a certain knack for leadership under fire. The second is that I have no tolerance for wasted time. Last night's mess of an evening was started with some dinner and grouching with a co-worker about the odd state of affairs where I work. I run so hot and cold on this place... it's really unnerving. At least when I worked as a kick-turd at the White House I knew exactly how much I hated my job. But at the same time I knew there was some 5th grade teacher in Arkansas that appreciated what I was doing. And that's what let me sleep at night. Tangent...

So the software upgrade that was supposed to happen failed miserably and the only good thing about it was that at 1:00am my roll-back plan worked. So basically, an exhausting day that in the end yielded absolutely nothing.

I should have ended my day there.

But I didn't. I then spent the next few hours hitting myself in the head with an emotional mallet until I was tired and mad... oddly that's still on a low flame at the moment. Actually not oddly.

As I'm prone to do when angry and wordless, I embarked on a project of destruction and construction. People who have seen The Wall... it was really like "One of My Turns" (without the groupie... although she was there in spirit) and "Is There Anybody Out There?" For people that haven't seen it... um... it involves trashing a room or two to the extreme and then trying to rebuild it.

That reminds me... I've got people coming over in 2 days. I need to clean that all up... and myself too.

So anyway... I felt horrible last night and today has just been a continuation on the same theme. Work has been an absolute joy... no... um... not joy... distraction. It's kept my mind occupied so I guess that's good. I found myself listening to two very odd albums shuffled together. Les Claypool's Frog Brigade doing Floyd's Animals live and Duran Duran's Astronaut. It's kinda odd to go from "bleeting and babbling we fell on his neck with a scream" to "reach up for the sunrise". I'm all over the place today.

Before the poo-pooers (you know who you are) start throwing fruit at Duran2... some of what they're doing now is deeper than the bubble gum of yore. Nevermind... throw rocks. I don't care. That's my new mantra I think.

So I was in a crap mood when I started this post and I think it shows. I've been struggling of late to get something decent here for people to read and it's just not happening. I was going with the idea that posting anything was better than nothing, but I've reconsidered.

So I'm going off line for a while. If something strikes me as worth writing about I'll probably hang on to it until I can get a few posts in the can and have some real substance.

I'll probably return in early September. Until then... read the paper.

Posted by Monty at 2:38 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

After years and years of complete and total hatred of all things Apple... I finally collapsed and purchased my first and hopefully only Apple product.

I now am the proud owner of an iPod. Just typing the word iPod makes me throw up a little in my mouth, but alas, the time has come to get a digital media player.

After my flight to Seattle, I realized that using my twelve pound laptop as an mp3 player was just silly. While it's fun to watch movies on and/or play games... it's a boat anchor of a carry-on. And while I'll still carry it on flights, it'll now find itself in the overhead so in case I need it, I can play, but I can listen to music and watch mini-movies on the weightless iPod.

I've been fiddling around with it a bit and it seems fairly nice. I got a black one which helped with the decision making. Apple tends to make anti-butch gear for some reason. Although if they'd come up with one that had neon or blue LCD glow on it, I'd buy it. (I love my blacklight/UV PC case)

So... I can no longer call myself a non-appler. With my luck, the iPod will last me 100 years and give me no problems. We'll see.

Now I've got to go rip some muzak. Also, does anyone know how the iPod will handle being hooked up to a different system with a different iTunes library? My laptop has a library (now synced with iPod) but my PC has another library all its own that I'd like to import to the iPod.

I guess I'll just plug it in and see what it does.

Posted by Monty at 8:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

So... today the elevator in my office decided to try to kill me. Firstly, it crazy hot in the elevator. That, in and of itself, came close. Secondly, there was some sort of funky music going on in there. Thirdly... stinky perfume. Not the elevator's fault though. Finally, when I hit the down button, the elevator drop a couple of feet abruptedly and lurched up again and the doors kinda opened and closed and then it just sorta stopped.

I tapped some buttons and nothing happened.

Cool. Nap time. Just as I was about to get comfy and take a nap, the elevator went up again and the doors opened. So much for nap time.

Wow... these past two posts are very indicative that my muse has left the building.

I guess it's time to start drinking at work again... I'm sure that will produce something to write about.

It's that or I'll need a govt/biblical catastrophic failure to point fun at.

It's like I can feel the hits dropping.

Posted by Monty at 3:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

So this weekend a bridge flattened some folks. That's pretty sad and there's nothing funny there. I did find it funny that George W is all excited about yet another reconstruction project though. Did his parents not give him tinker toys or legos to play with as a kid? Why is he so excited about building a new bridge? I think New Orleans is still on the "to do" list... as is the majority of Iraq. But fine... build a new bridge. If you build it out of useless FEMA trailers, you might go down in history as the 2nd worst president in American history.

Also, for the record, any bridge that moron claims to have had anything to do with will kill more people than the plague. You were warned.

Speaking of stupid, hundreds of thousands of small arms are missing in Iraq. Hmmm.

Where ever could they have gone?

I'd check the following places... Southeast DC, the Alamo, and Charlton Heston's house.

I'd be neat at this point to see who has given more arms to insurgents in the middle east now... is it Syria... is it Iran... or is the US DoD?

Is it possible to impeach an entire branch of government?

Posted by Monty at 10:55 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Black pants
Black shirt
Black shoes
Black tie

This is a look for two people... mafia hitman or ninja.

This look will look silly on anyone else.

I know... more on Settle is coming. I'm just tired.

I overslept this morning and got less sleep than I probably should have last night. Oh well.
If I can stay awake for my hour long meeting, I should be ok. I'm a presenter at the meeting, so I'm guessing I will... but that might just be wishful thinking.

Posted by Monty at 1:29 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

The title says it all. The Seattle trip was a huge success and now I'm back to the crap gig I call working in NoVa (Northern Virginia for those not in acronymland... which borders Funky Town and sits on the west bank of $hit Creek).

I should have been taking notes during the trip, because I'm sure there's so much entertainment to be noted that I've already forgotten.

Firstly, big thank you to Matt, Jay, and Ashley for playing hosts/tour guides/drinking buddies. It was a blast, and while your city is awesome the enjoyment of the trip came from company kept. So again, thanks very much. Photos coming soon.

Usually I write a long bit about flights, but nothing big happened on this one. It was probably one of my most uneventful flights ever. I even slept on the plane for an hour. There was one steward who was rather funny. When I boarded the plane, I knocked on the outside of the fuselage. It's a habit/good luck thing I do before getting on any plane. The steward at the door asked if it was my good luck charm. I said yes and he replied that we'd need all the luck we could get since the pilot picked that week to quit taking heroine.

I laughed.

Fast forward.

The weather was incredible. Cool, often sunny. Very comfortable. We ate bar grub and drank pitches of local brew that first night. The ability to walk to bars, dinner, entertainment was very cool. I was braced up for the trip so walking was fine. With the exception of the last day, I had no problems with the knee at all and with the amount of walking we did that last day, I'd suspect many healthy kneed people would have had problems.

Anyway... first night highlight... playing bar shuffle board in the bottom of that huge bar (The Garage?). They used to have one of those shuffle board sand tables in the Officers' Club and I hadn't played with one in 20 years. It was fun with the exception that the table had a "dead zone" where the pucks would just die instead of sliding. Towards the end we got better, but it took us over an hour to get to one side having 15 points before we called it quits.

Memory highlight of the evening: Wandering back to the condo and remembering hazy days of college and wandering back from bars. In particular the night coming back from Fat's and signing alternative lyrics to NIN's Closer. If you can imagine me belting out "I want to F you like an antelope!" or "I want to F you like an artichoke!" or "I want to F you like a cantelope!" or "I want to F you like a dirigible!" It goes on, but you get the point.

More to follow on this... now I must go justify my existance by sleeping through a meeting.

Posted by Monty at 11:41 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)