Friday, August 25, 2006

Some Tour Stops cancelled...

This guy* just found out Jenin's hottest boy band raised their fee to $230 for appearing at his daughter's wedding.

(Uh, one of these don't belong: "George Michael. Ah hah. Michael Jackson. Ee Hee. Elton John. Yeah, yeah. Boris Becker. Uh uh. Pavarotti. Oh oh..." - Ed.)

*I've been trying to find a way to work this video in all week long. Via MKH, the Bad Girl of Vent, who got it from SeeDubya.

UPDATE: No - Allah's got the audio?

The English lyrics are here, in case you needed it for your karaoke line-up, or just to sing along.

UPDATE: Elton John's throwin' down. Will Northern Band step-up?

Thursday, August 24, 2006

Pluto finally declared a dog

Is science regressing? Are astronomers using their own biases to shun the lonely planet?

In related news, Iranian Mullahs still declare Joooooos sub-human.

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

Band of the Banned UPDATE!!!

The Band of the Banned has a new member: Paris Hilton? (Hey, my wife tipped me off, so it's okay). I don't know - do we let her into the club?

UPDATE: Screen capture of her official album site. That's hot.

How do you sleep?

While driving home from a long day on the golf course yesterday I caught a new song release by Pink and the Indigo Girls. I've never been a fan of either, but in all fairness, this has got to be the stoopidest song ever written.
Dear Mr. President
Were you a lonely boy
Are you a lonely boy
Are you a lonely boy
How can you say
No child is left behind
We're not dumb and we're not blind
They're all sitting in your cells
While you pave the road to hell
This sounds suspiciously like something a junior high school girl would have written at the prodding of her social studies teacher for extra credit. Trust me on this one - it's much worse with the music.

Superman says: Don't wait a decade

It's been a long, long time since I've felt invincible. Fellas, you know what I'm talking about - like you can take on the world with one hand tied behind your back and come out of it with nothing more than minor skin abrasions. Basically, Superman. It's something ingrained in most anyone with a set of testicles. It's what makes the world go 'round.

Of course, some of us come in contact with kryptonite. The worst sort of encounter with it comes when you don't even know what your kryptonite is. You lose your strength, your energy, your stamina, your witts and ability to control your temper. Almost like Jackie Mackie Paisley Passy has somehow got a hold of your baby maker. It can get ugly and there's nothing you can do about it. No one knows what's causing it or how to combat it. Your symptoms are diagnosed as the condition rather than symptoms.

10 years! 10 friggin' years I've felt like this. Some times it was more severe than others, but always there. That was until 6-weeks ago when we finally discovered what my kryptonite was.

My kryptonite is... gluten. It's called Celiac disease - an autoimmune disorder - and it's not a widely tested for condition. Yet, there are some who think that possibly 1 in every 133 Americans may be afflicted with it - many being "diagnosed" with other disorders. In fact, after I became aware of it my nephew was tested for it, only after my sister insisted. The pediatrician had never heard of it and had to research via the web. She's now going to screen most of her patients who have nutritional issues.

Yeah - it's not easy to catch everything with gluten (I'm dealing with a reaction to something inadvertently eaten yesterday), but when you know your poison it sure makes life a lot more pleasant.

So, here I am, now 30-years-old and feeling better than I ever have in my adult life - I'm invincible, again. It's too bad 10 years went by before figuring it out, but at least it's better than the 11-years it takes the average celiac to be diagnosed. Check it out for yourself. If a pediatrician had never come across it maybe there's a chance your doctor hasn't. Maybe.

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

Centanni & Wiig Blogburst

As Michelle has requested: Still missing.

This is definitely different than other so-called kidnappings in Palestine.

Lord bring peace to their families and, if it is your will, return them home safe and in good health. May you use this situation to bring glory to your name and fear upon those who have chosen to love death more than your gift of life. Lead these men beside still waters.

UPDATE: I'm sure you've all heard by now, but Allah's got the video from the release by blah blah blah jihad blah.

Monday, August 21, 2006

Osama + Whitney = Dead Bobby?

How will I know if he really loves me
I say a prayer with every heart beat
I fall in love whenever we meet
I'm asking you what you know about these things

Don't ask me how I know those lyrics. What matters is that Osama isn't totally racist, am I right?

We reluctantly accept your resignation

I usually do it with a formal letter and 2-week notice, but hey, this works, too.

Monday starts out well...

"Okay, now that I see that she's a dead-ringer for Rudy Giuliani in drag, I have to admit, I'm three-quarters aroused."

Via JYB.

UPDATE: Allah's got his commentors dialed in and they aren't quite seeing it from Jackie's pont of view.

Sunday, August 20, 2006

Sermon Notes

Back in the day I would post my notes taken during the sermons at church on Sundays as a way to catalog and make them available for those who might stumble across this desolate place. I grew out of that habit fairly quickly for a very simple reason: The sermons became available as downloads and Podcasts, so now I just import them to my iPod. I still take notes during the sermons, but it's sure a whole lot easier and more informative to re-listen to them than type them out for a blog post.

However, the Sermons are so good they need to be shared with you all. So, here is the link to Message Downloads, with special attention to the Matthew Series and Jayson Turner. Enjoy and learn.

'Hawks win!

Yeah, it's preseason and I've been doing this Seahawks fan thing for nearly 24-years, so I'm used to it. Nothing new here. Yet, 'tis the season for proselystizing and making new fans. What better time to do it than during the preseason just months after the 'Hawks made it to the Super Bowl for the first time in franchise history? My wife is not quite there yet. She still thinks there are two seasons: Football Season and Her Season.

One person I've successfully converted to the Rebel Alliance is my 4-year-old nephew. That was no small feat. The odds were stacked against it: His father is a Steelers fan and they live in Denver. Somehow (divine intervention can be the only answer), my influence was able to take root in his heart and a lifelong devotion to the Seahawks is almost complete.

He now stops me in midsentence while speaking on the phone and asks, "Wait. Are you for the Seahawks or the Steelers?" When assured of my commitment to the 'Hawks he answers with an approving, "Good." But that's not it.

I was recently told he stood up in a restaurant in Denver and, with all his might, yelled, "Yaaaaay Seahawks! Boooo Broncos!" Not only is he fan, he's a fan with brass cojones - at 4, nonetheless. (sniff, sniif) It's enough to make one the proudest uncle in the world.

Game on!