Random acts of senseless posting

Normally, unless I was unwittingly exposed to biological weapons of mass destruction -- a mathematical impossibility given the layers of Billy Mays' Mighty Putty® sealing up all windows and doorways chez Randal -- is anyone else feeling lightheaded? -- or lysergic acid diethylamide in my drink or tetrahydrocannabinol in my brownies -- there's my stash! You have no idea how long I've been looking for it -- I would never post anything about anyone intimately associated or loosely affiliated with The Fucking Yankees unless it was to cast an unyielding torrent of scorn in their general direction, but this bit about now-retired Fucking Yankee Mike Mussina is the exception.

No, not for anything he did, is doing or will do, but for what's mentioned near the bottom: has there ever been a better team name than the Oakland Dudes?











"Walter, he peed on my mitt!"

Being a card-carrying member of the International Brotherhood of Misogynistic Piggery and Piano Tuners, Local No. 103175, I'm quite tearful that I'm at work instead of at home getting ready to watch this. Sigh.


















"Go work on you paper about the cheese-eating surrender monkeys, dear.
I'll be home soon enough."

Thanks, babe. Smooches. At least I'm gaining votes!












"I'm the one that's good enough and smart enough, asshole."

I've been trying to come up with a fourth item, but then realized the best things in life always come in threes: triple plays, three-ring circuses, third eyes, Triple Ententes, triple cheesburgers, menages à trois.

"Keep dreaming."

I do, brain, I do. Okay, here we go: how come all you young people rapidly going deaf with your iPods jammed up to eleven have the worst fucking taste in music?

"You're one to talk, Mr. Satan Murder Death Mayhem."

But at least I don't drop passes on Sunday.

"What the fuck does that have to do with anything?"











Sassafras tea, silly string and shotgun blasts, stupid. It's bad enough that Hussein named closet lesbian, murderer and soap opera starlet Hillary to his cabinet, now he's thinking about an openly gay chick. Super Magical Jesus Baby must be rolling over in his crib. Spin the Tito the Builder mobile to shut his ass up, will ya?

Oh, and Pantone? Go fuck yourself. That's all the world needs. More blissfully happy people.

"Isn't this shit supposed to make you mellow?"