By Jason
    January 31st, 2006 at 2:05 am

So you're probably wondering, "why the hell is Jason writing something at 2:00 A.M.?" Actually, you probably couldn't care less and weren't thinking anything remotely close to that, but, work with me here. After watching two straight hours of tivo'ed "Flavor of Love" episodes (Yes, I am obsessed with this show. It is without equal in unintentional comedy. Simply amazing.), I decided to check out VH1 Reality World's Flavor site. Among the gems on this site (I just don't know what to say there… This clearly is the worst show in the history of reality tv. I don't think there's ever been a show NEARLY as horrible as Flavor of Love. I haven't decided yet if the girls are genuinely the way they are on the show, or, if they're just that bad at acting. This might actually make a solid challenge for the coveted "Worst Show In the History of the World" Award. It's absolutely pointless. I LOVE it. I digress…) are various links to different MySpace pages for some of the girls that were vying for Flava Flav's heart. (So long as they can put up with Flava's wandering lips, that is. Apparently his one true love has to be able to deal with the fact that Flava Flav, now in his mid-40s, can't be so confined to one woman. I mean, who can blame the man? There must be hundreds of dirty-desperate-misguided women that flock to him whereever he goes. So many diseases, so little time… (Except for a couple. Hoopz is cute. So is Smiley. Goldie's my favorite though. She's country!)) After checking out Smiley's MySpace page (please, just let it go… I promised myself I'd keep it inside) I mosied on over to the Flavor 'O Love page where I found it. You too can have Flava give you your own very special flavorized nickname. Mine? Lace. Yes. That's right. Lace. There it is. I'm going to go repeatedly punch myself in the groin now.

    By Jason
    January 22nd, 2006 at 11:00 am

It was one of those moments. I found myself stuck at proverbial "fork in the road"; where one decision had me being driven back home by my parents while I muttered obsenities under my breath, or, I'd be driven to a place that is not my home by a cop who is not related to me (or, might have been, but, that's really not the point here) while I muttered obsenities under my breath but felt somehow as if I'd reached some sort of closure in my life.  ¹ More to the point, if there was ever a time that I could point to as being the closest I've ever been to ending up on Death Row, last week was it. ² In fact, my whole experience with the Miami-Dade AND Broward County Clerk's office left me with a few lingering thoughts:

1. In an earlier article, I mistakenly described the Dade Clerk's office by claiming that the decomposing dead roach that was in the hallway for three whole weeks in the place formerly known as "the office" intimidated the Dade Clerks by the mere presence of two dead brains in one creature while they didn't have a combined brain, dead or alive. This was completely unfair of me and I apoligize for that.   Let me clarify.  I still stand behind my comments.  After this past week, now more than ever, I am convinced that the Dade Clerks simply aren't human.  Not that I want to risk insulting some alien culture, but, I'm not even sure the guy who gets stuck in a wood chipper ³ would meet the intellectual qualifications to work there.  I'm convinced that no human is stupid enough to reach such low levels of intelligence.  See, the mistake was more in the belief that this was in some way limited to the Dade Clerks Office.  I apologize.  I never meant to give Broward County so much respect.  Congratulations Broward.  Your clerks possess the same set of skills that a brain-stemless lab rat would have.  Bravo.
Continue reading The Thomas Jane (as Frank Castle) Scale Of Pissed-Offedness…

1. Of course, while this second option might present closure in the sense that my past problem had been ultimately resolved, there was certainly a little worry there that I'd be spending the next little while with somebody that has the body type of Andre the Giant and the sexual appetite of Carson from the Fab Five. I think you get the idea. (Of course, if you like that kind of thing, more power to you! One man's pain is another's victory. Who am I to judge?) [back]
2. Yeah, I'm perfectly aware that I'd be the one wearing the upside-down bandana around my forehead. I just hope the tatoo artist has some sort of skill. Not that it matters much I guess. Who can see their own back anyway? [back]
3. This HAS to be one of the most humiliating ways to go out!  You know how the story goes: genius is throwing branches into a wood chipper.  Woodchipper gets stuck.  Genius, without turning off wood chipper, jumps in to dislodge stuck branch.  In a moment of glory, Genius gets sucked into now fully operational wood chipper with the priceless expression on his/her face of a man who spent the previous ten minutes making out with that hot chick at the bar who has now revealed that the scarf around her neck was indeed hiding something.  Is there even some sort of reference for this?  I think in a future article, we'll have to explore just where, on the scale of fatal humiliating events, this would be.  It'd have to be near the top, right? [back]

    By Jason
    January 19th, 2006 at 9:55 pm

Below this post, you'll find six previous entries that I moved over from my old wiki site. If you give them a read, you'll discovery (pretty quickly) that there's really no rhyme nor reason to most of what I write. Part of that is intentional, but it's mostly because I tend to write about whatever it is that's been on my mind. I felt a little too confined by the wiki, and trying to navigate it certainly wasn't easy for any of the three readers that frequented my site. Hopefully, with the new format, I'll be able to get the fourth reader I've so desperately wanted!! Anyway, have a read, enjoy yourself, try to laugh a little, and, if anything strikes a chord with you, let me know about it!

    By Jason
    January 17th, 2006 at 10:12 pm

We’ve all had times in our life where we come out vehemently opposed to or completely behind an idea, only to then see the proverbial light. It’s happened throughout the course of history. For example, when we all found out that Guns ‘N’ Roses was reunited, who didn’t have the “HELL YEAH!” attitude? Then, shortly after their first performance, we all kind of thought to ourselves, “uhm… …” and then pretended like it never happened. (55 million Bush supporters could relate.) (As long as we’re on the subject, you have to think that this was the exact line of thought shared by Eric Banner after “Hulk”. Is it possible for a starring role in a blockbuster movie to completely destroy your career prospects? Sure, he looked a little menacing uttering that “you don’t want to see me when I’m angry” line, but, it wasn’t the line he was reacting to. It was him thinking “ten years of serving burgers at Ted’s Diner for this crap? I can’t believe I need to learn to work a frialator again. This is so unfair!”) (Also, probably anyone who’s ever been on a reality TV show, and lost. I can’t be more specific than that because I swore off reality TV a long time ago as a sure sign of the apocalypse. I’d just think that there HAS to be some regrets there.) (I swear this is the last one: anyone who’s ever slept with Paris Hilton. I’m not elaborating.) Well, to make a long story short, I’m man enough to admit when I’m wrong, and, well, I’m wrong.

HDTV has shown me a world I never knew existed. Sure, I still hate Billy goes to Bosnia (or whatever the hell that travelogue is called) but, True Music is AMAZING! It’s even entertaining with the sound on!! Katie Daryl is simply the best thing to happen to TV since Brooke Burke. Plus, she wins because she comes into our living room in amazing HD quality. The show features little vignettes on various crappy bands you’ve either heard of and hated, heard of and tolerated (only to hear play live and subsequently hate, i.e., Alien Ant Farm), or have never heard of but now find mildly amusing because you can tell that they really want to be liked. (The lead singer for Vibe had that whole “come on guys… please turn around?” look on his face as they were jumping up and down (presumably because no one else was) on stage.) Daryl steals the spotlight though. Anyway, with this in mind, here are a few more random thoughts that have consumed my mind of late…
Continue reading That's Mr. Cabral to you….

    By Jason
    January 17th, 2006 at 10:08 pm

I was hoping to have added the word equivalent of two Tolstoyian chapters to my wiki at this point. After all, the masses [consisting of the 11 registered users, the 2 computer hackers experiencing the emotional roller-coaster equivalent to that of the Ocean's Eleven crew busting into Fort Knox only to discover that the collection of gold was traded in for a massive stash of Jose Conseco rookie cards sometime during the Reagan Administration while Ronnie ran around the White House screaming, "Hey Nancy! If you thought Star Wars was a great idea, wait till you get a load of what I just did! It's a "can't miss!!!", and about 11 billion indifferent internet users who either have never heard of me (a very large percentage), have heard of me but simply don't care (a very small percentage), or believe me to be the child molester that is indeed someone else with the same name living in Dade County (really, what are the chances?)] are simply itching with excitement waiting for new spewage to come barreling out of my fingertips onto your screen so you can once again be greatly disturbed, humored, sickened, entertained, or further pushed deeper into your already enveloping sense of deep depression. Have no fear. After battling some combination of the Avian flu (did anyone else think that the French were plotting against us again the first time you heard about the new pandemic on the news?), SARS, dysentery, and a little nasal congestion, you'll be happy to know that, while i feel no different, nothing inspires writing like a rousing two-hour battle with the company database system. Well, that, and being laid up for the last four days with the occasional trip to the orange bowl, heat game, local bar, or the hospital (more on that later) being the notable exceptions.

Now, as much as I wanted to write over the weekend, I figured whatever drug induced verbiage that I'd come up with would probably rank on the scale of awful somewhere between Omar Kelly, anything ever written by Bill O'Reilly, and the entire sports staff of the Miami Herald with the notable exception being Edwin Pope (well, anything he wrote prior to turning 213 years old) and occasionally Dan LeBatard (stick to the radio gig Dan). The problem is, instead of writing, I spent waaaay too much time sitting either in bed or downstairs in one of the dental office chairs that my father thinks is the greatest invention to effect modern society since the mute switch and Rosanne reruns. (I'm currently holding out hope that someone will invent visual mute technology. Instead of not being able to hear the person, you won't have to SEE the person, but, at the same time, you'll still get to see the rest of the show. If hundreds of thousands of people weren't immediately violently ill the minute Rosanne popped onto the screen at the opening credits of her show, it probably would've ranked up there in the pantheon of 2nd tier quality shows that everyone watched but no one actually admits to seeing such as Growing Pains, Who's the Boss, Full House, and The Golden Girls. (Speaking of which, I’d be willing to bet a strip-off featuring Bea Arthur and Estelle Getty would be another one of those shows where everyone would act absolutely horrified, the Gross National Product of the country would plummet within days of it’s airing simply because millions of unsuspecting viewers turned to stone, yet, a strong majority of the population would tune in out of nothing else but a sense of morbid curiosity.)) Anyway, cutting to the point (whatever it might be), I thought it might be mildly interesting to share some thoughts from this weekend. Judging from this intro, I’ll probably turn this into a multi-part series. Hey, if you’re reading this, it’s not as if you have anything better to do anyway!
Continue reading Hey Jeb! I dun seen his soul!! (part 1 of a series)…

    By Jason
    January 17th, 2006 at 10:06 pm

This is just a quick mid-day rant that flows as a result of being severely traumatized by Tim McGraw after 13 weeks of Monday Night Football.

Will someone please make it stop!??!? How is this allowed to happen? If there was ever any doubt before, I am now clearly convinced that the executive producer of Monday Night Football is 13. Seriously. He's completely suffering from new music syndrome! (I use the term "new music" loosely. Sure "I like it, I love it" has been around for a few years, but, we're talking about someone who thought this whole premise was good to begin with.) You know how it works. You hear a song you really like so you go out and buy the album only to find that every other song on it is ancestry-insulting bad. Your only solice is to listen to that one song over and over again for no other reason than to justify the $15 you just dumped on a CD.
Continue reading 'Cause I hate it! 'Can't stand it! Won't take no more of it!!…

    By Jason
    January 17th, 2006 at 10:02 pm

Ok. I'm writing something here simply because I have been teasing this along for over 2 weeks now, and really, the story falls on the "things that have me too upset to even want to make fun of" list. See, I can write about the Einsteins that work at the Clerks office, because, after all, who cares? In the end, I feel like I win. (Do I really need to elaborate on this?) When it comes down to talking about times when I get sucked into having to deal with issues brought on by the "Fredo" of the family, it gets a little harder.(1) (See? This would be a perfect time for a footnote, but, since I don't have that capability, you're going to have to pretend. (1) For those of you, Eddie, who haven't seen "The Godfather", Fredo is the dysfunctional flunkie who always manages to screw something up and it virtually ALWAYS results in Michael doing his best impression of a man trying to keep his head from, literally, exploding. I'm not necessarily saying that she's like Fredo, but, on more than one occasion, I felt a certain connection to Michael.) Anyway, I'll give a quick recap of the story, but then I’m moving on to other things that are far less felony-inducing. By the way, because I have family members who potentially will be reading this that I wouldn't mind coming to my wedding or kid's bar mitzvah (eventually on both counts by the way, nothing imminent), I'll be changing the names to make it more ambiguous.

If you recall from part 1 (another footnote: Who the hell is remembering what I wrote two weeks ago? I just needed a way to start the story.), I was at home fighting off a virus that left me with two fears, the latter being much more frightening than the former:
Continue reading Dude, where's my catheter? (part 2 of a series)…

    By Jason
    January 17th, 2006 at 9:58 pm

I promise I'll get around to the catheter story. It's just that some things take longer to talk about. The pain is still all too fresh. Speaking of which… in what can only be described as an attempted coup on my weekend by everyone I know who suddenly decided in an act of collusion to all go out of town to various parts of the state and country OR make themselves unavailable, only to make themselves available again after the re-emergence of what I'm guessing can only be the viral version of the remnants of Hurricane Wilma or SARS, I spent most of my weekend laying in bed watching TV… Here are some thoughts on an interesting weekend in sports…

After watching an incredible Spurs/Mavs game, I stayed up out of morbid curiosity to watch the Lakers/Jazz game. How come nobody told me that there's a player named Smush out there?!?! Who's been holding that information out on me?!?! Is it even legal to be named Smush?! I would swear that some of the child abuse laws of this country would cover an act like naming your kid "Smush". How is that not like dressing little Moishe up in his best Hasidic outfit and forcing him to walk to school through an area known to be comprised mostly of Pat Buchanan and neo-Nazis? Can we give Smush a man of the year award simply for making it to adulthood?! Someone really needs to investigate this…
Continue reading And In A Related Story……

    By Jason
    January 17th, 2006 at 8:37 pm

So it's another beautiful day here inside the power company. Steady 72 degrees (F) with winds out of the, uhm, ceiling at 2mph, sometimes gusting to 234mph out of the Southeast, but subsiding as soon as I turn the sand-blaster, otherwise known as my desk fan, off. Yes, indeed, it is a beautiful day to provide electricity for the fine people of Florida and I am very very thankful to have the opportunity to return to such a great company as FPL. I hope all the individuals in the e-mail reading department (not actually sure what department you actually are in) are enjoying a productive day here and I hope the rest of your Monday is, how do yo say, ce magnifique!

Continue reading Vote For Pedro……