So here's something that got my goat in 07.
Everyone got all on Miss Teen USA Candidate from South Carolina for being, umm, a bit, how should we put it in the parlance of our times, "Folksy."
Here's how it looked.
I mean, people literally got crazy mad at how dumb this girl was. I didn't. No, as casual observer of the media, I thought, what horrendously pisses me off about this is that the United States has a President that routinely speaks like this, and nobody seems to even notice! If it works for the President - and he doesn't get called out for it, and nobody gets mad, why should this lovely (and stupidly young) woman try anything different. Of course, the internet world roundly mocked her. To that I'd add this nice little compilation...
So...back to my point...which was...err, umm... My guess is that Miss Teen South Carolina will probably go on to a University somewhere, have a lovely time, and do her damnedest to never have a brain freeze like that again on camera. Our Prez? I'm sure he's got nothing to worry about, nobody seems to mind.
Saturday, January 05, 2008
Friday, January 04, 2008
First Friday In 08.
"It's hard to want to do anything when it's raining."
Said Monday, who had thrown himself into a handy Laz-Y-Boy leather chair. His dripping overcoat, hat and umbrella were thrown near the door of the large living room. He was speaking to the gathered Weekdays who were playing video-football on a huge television screen. Tuesday and Friday were loosing badly.
"Or snowing." Tuesday said, not moving his head.
"Or hailing." Quipped Wednesday, intently staring at the game.
"Or forty-below." Responded Thursday, who began pressing buttons madly as the play started.
"Or when it's too hot!" Monday replied again, getting into the theme.
"Or when you're beat from a goofed up week that has had no mercy on your ass! OF COURSE IT'S HARD TO DO ANYTHING!" Friday yelled, stabbing the controller as his player was tackled for a 4-yard loss. "That's how they've got it set up." He said this as he pressed "pause," grabbed a can of beer, and emptied the rest of it. He then crushed the can in his right hand, looking back at Monday.
"That's how they've got it set up. So it's hard to do anything! Sooner or later there's a reason and an excuse to not do anything! Don't you get that yet?!"
Friday threw the crushed beer can across the room, where it rattled between the legs of a small wooden end-table shoved into a corner holding up an unremarkable lamp. (after which, the can leaked out more than a few drops of beer, (which then attracted the attentions of a scouting, and very small ant, which led to the later infestation of said ant's colony, that gave the owner of the house no end of trouble, but that's another story.))
"Friday," Monday spoke softly from his repose in the Laz-Y-Boy, "Yer talkin' to the lead guy in the processional of days DESIGNED TO BREAK THE SPIRIT OF ALL MORTALS!" His voice, while not quite impassioned at the same level as Friday's, began to grow into a larger volume, a volume like thunder. "OF COURSE I KNOW!"
Monday walked over to the small refrigerator, grabbed a beer for himself, muttering. "Jeesh."
"Sorry Mon." Friday spoke, "Been feeling a bit beaten down for the last while."
"I dig." Monday responded cracking open his can of beer, "I feel like that everytime I show up, nobody's happy to see me. I've learned to deal with it, I'm a motha'fuckin'badass. That's who I am. But you?..."
The rest of the Weekdays had their attentions ripped from their video-game and into the drama, were riveted on each of the actors in the scene, waiting for the next line. Friday sat mute, so Monday continued.
"You're the guy they call the King Of All Weekdays. You're the guy everyone looks forward to seeing, and you're the guy that gives everyone hope for a better time. There's a reason all of us are happy around you, and that's 'cause you bring out the nicest possibilities, and the unfettered belief that whatever needs, or wants could get done...gets fucking done."
Monday pauses for a dramatic (and long) drink from his can.
"I don't give a rat's ass that you've been feeling (he makes quotes around his next two words) "beaten down," He continues speaking, but snidely and making quotes over the next three words, "For the last while." He takes another poignant drink from his beer, and points his finger at Friday. "
You're not the King Of All Weekdays because you bring despair and defeat...christ(he says with some more disdain)...you're the bringer of outrageous belief and impossible possibilities, and fucking all-you-can-eat buffets! Don't sit there wallowing in all the shit all of us know already! Bring us a bunch of stuff we didn't know we could have, and make us appreciate how fucking awesome it is!"
Monday sits down in a lump onto the chair he so recently dropped into with such vibrant energy.
"At least, that's what I think." He mumbles softly, and finishes his drink. The rest of the Weekdays are riveted. There is a long silent pause.
"Fuck you Monday." Friday says quietly. Then he stands his tall and perfectly formed frame up from the couch, and walks to the fridge, and pulls out a beer.
The rest of the Weekdays are not so impressed with this performance, but are still watching.
"Tuesday," Friday speaks, cracking open his beer, "Call Etropa, Secretary of Zeus, and get the Storm God on the phone, he owes me a favor or two...I think good weather for a few hours shouldn't be too hard to wrangle." He has a satisfying drink, and looks over the Weekdays, "Wednesday!" Friday shouts, "Find that Airship you made in '06, and get it ready to fly!"
The hunchback looks up from the couch with an up-and-under look (the only kind he can make, being a hunchback looking up) "But, it's so big it will blot out the sun for hours wherever it passes!"
"And has a sound and light system to blast people miles from that! Get cracking!"
Wednesday dragged himself out of the room, as Friday continued in an energized fashion.
"Thursday, round up the most talented D.J.'s on the planet, and a few great bands, there's a list somewhere - with their gear - and enough appetizers and drink to entertain the best of the best for a full 24-hours!"
Thursday sprang up, and a super-nice cell phone was in his hand, already busy punching numbers on it. Tuesday spoke excitedly from the corner.
"Friday! Weather's a go!"
"Rad." Friday exclaimed, "Now how about you come up with a guest-list that'll be equal parts people who slay, and people who need it deep in their souls to be slain...and a flight plan that'll make the most outta' what we're about to do."
"Ten-four-good buddy!" Tuesday said as he busied himself at his task.
Friday walked over to Monday who was sitting in his Laz-Y-Boy, and tapped cans in a sort-of-cheer.
"I haven't been called out like that in a millennium." Friday said, "I'm positive I deserved it."
Monday, watched Friday drink heartily to his own toast, and had a polite sip of his own.
"Sometimes you know what's best," Monday said, "and sometimes it's the people around you , that really know what you're really capable of."
Happy Friday.
Said Monday, who had thrown himself into a handy Laz-Y-Boy leather chair. His dripping overcoat, hat and umbrella were thrown near the door of the large living room. He was speaking to the gathered Weekdays who were playing video-football on a huge television screen. Tuesday and Friday were loosing badly.
"Or snowing." Tuesday said, not moving his head.
"Or hailing." Quipped Wednesday, intently staring at the game.
"Or forty-below." Responded Thursday, who began pressing buttons madly as the play started.
"Or when it's too hot!" Monday replied again, getting into the theme.
"Or when you're beat from a goofed up week that has had no mercy on your ass! OF COURSE IT'S HARD TO DO ANYTHING!" Friday yelled, stabbing the controller as his player was tackled for a 4-yard loss. "That's how they've got it set up." He said this as he pressed "pause," grabbed a can of beer, and emptied the rest of it. He then crushed the can in his right hand, looking back at Monday.
"That's how they've got it set up. So it's hard to do anything! Sooner or later there's a reason and an excuse to not do anything! Don't you get that yet?!"
Friday threw the crushed beer can across the room, where it rattled between the legs of a small wooden end-table shoved into a corner holding up an unremarkable lamp. (after which, the can leaked out more than a few drops of beer, (which then attracted the attentions of a scouting, and very small ant, which led to the later infestation of said ant's colony, that gave the owner of the house no end of trouble, but that's another story.))
"Friday," Monday spoke softly from his repose in the Laz-Y-Boy, "Yer talkin' to the lead guy in the processional of days DESIGNED TO BREAK THE SPIRIT OF ALL MORTALS!" His voice, while not quite impassioned at the same level as Friday's, began to grow into a larger volume, a volume like thunder. "OF COURSE I KNOW!"
Monday walked over to the small refrigerator, grabbed a beer for himself, muttering. "Jeesh."
"Sorry Mon." Friday spoke, "Been feeling a bit beaten down for the last while."
"I dig." Monday responded cracking open his can of beer, "I feel like that everytime I show up, nobody's happy to see me. I've learned to deal with it, I'm a motha'fuckin'badass. That's who I am. But you?..."
The rest of the Weekdays had their attentions ripped from their video-game and into the drama, were riveted on each of the actors in the scene, waiting for the next line. Friday sat mute, so Monday continued.
"You're the guy they call the King Of All Weekdays. You're the guy everyone looks forward to seeing, and you're the guy that gives everyone hope for a better time. There's a reason all of us are happy around you, and that's 'cause you bring out the nicest possibilities, and the unfettered belief that whatever needs, or wants could get done...gets fucking done."
Monday pauses for a dramatic (and long) drink from his can.
"I don't give a rat's ass that you've been feeling (he makes quotes around his next two words) "beaten down," He continues speaking, but snidely and making quotes over the next three words, "For the last while." He takes another poignant drink from his beer, and points his finger at Friday. "
You're not the King Of All Weekdays because you bring despair and defeat...christ(he says with some more disdain)...you're the bringer of outrageous belief and impossible possibilities, and fucking all-you-can-eat buffets! Don't sit there wallowing in all the shit all of us know already! Bring us a bunch of stuff we didn't know we could have, and make us appreciate how fucking awesome it is!"
Monday sits down in a lump onto the chair he so recently dropped into with such vibrant energy.
"At least, that's what I think." He mumbles softly, and finishes his drink. The rest of the Weekdays are riveted. There is a long silent pause.
"Fuck you Monday." Friday says quietly. Then he stands his tall and perfectly formed frame up from the couch, and walks to the fridge, and pulls out a beer.
The rest of the Weekdays are not so impressed with this performance, but are still watching.
"Tuesday," Friday speaks, cracking open his beer, "Call Etropa, Secretary of Zeus, and get the Storm God on the phone, he owes me a favor or two...I think good weather for a few hours shouldn't be too hard to wrangle." He has a satisfying drink, and looks over the Weekdays, "Wednesday!" Friday shouts, "Find that Airship you made in '06, and get it ready to fly!"
The hunchback looks up from the couch with an up-and-under look (the only kind he can make, being a hunchback looking up) "But, it's so big it will blot out the sun for hours wherever it passes!"
"And has a sound and light system to blast people miles from that! Get cracking!"
Wednesday dragged himself out of the room, as Friday continued in an energized fashion.
"Thursday, round up the most talented D.J.'s on the planet, and a few great bands, there's a list somewhere - with their gear - and enough appetizers and drink to entertain the best of the best for a full 24-hours!"
Thursday sprang up, and a super-nice cell phone was in his hand, already busy punching numbers on it. Tuesday spoke excitedly from the corner.
"Friday! Weather's a go!"
"Rad." Friday exclaimed, "Now how about you come up with a guest-list that'll be equal parts people who slay, and people who need it deep in their souls to be slain...and a flight plan that'll make the most outta' what we're about to do."
"Ten-four-good buddy!" Tuesday said as he busied himself at his task.
Friday walked over to Monday who was sitting in his Laz-Y-Boy, and tapped cans in a sort-of-cheer.
"I haven't been called out like that in a millennium." Friday said, "I'm positive I deserved it."
Monday, watched Friday drink heartily to his own toast, and had a polite sip of his own.
"Sometimes you know what's best," Monday said, "and sometimes it's the people around you , that really know what you're really capable of."
Happy Friday.
Thursday, January 03, 2008
Uh-huh
It just occurred to me that if someone wanted to find fault with yers truly...it'd be pretty fjucking easy. Maybe even easier than finding something to like. My first resolution for '09 is going to be to change that. Alot.
Until I get around to it, however, here's this classic from '07.
Until I get around to it, however, here's this classic from '07.
Monday, December 31, 2007
ONE!!!!
Alllllllrighty!
I just saw this over at Look At This, and cried laughing. It starts a little slow...but it's worth it. No more words this year...just this.
I just saw this over at Look At This, and cried laughing. It starts a little slow...but it's worth it. No more words this year...just this.
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Well then...
There's a few ways to look at this thing about to happen tomorrow night, and I'm not going to suggest that any are right, since I've seen more than a few years start and finish like albums (yeah, albums, like the vinyl collection I still posses from the pre-C.D. era, gathering dust from the Los-Angel-eeze atmosphere) with a jerk and a horrible ripping sound like a party coming to an awful end. And I've seen 'em repeat or start anew without even a slight hesitation in the mix. I know a lot about stuff and things, but I'll tell ya the most important thing I know at this moment.
It's all real, and it's all yours. No matter how much you want it to be better, and no matter how much you might pretend, or believe that "this" is a moment of your time that will pass by into another moment that's better (or, of course, worse.) it's something more along the lines of this.
All these moments are yours, and they belong to your experience. It doesn't matter what you think of them, the moments you pass through daily are your stories in the future, when yer trying to be witty (say two years in the future) at a cocktail party populated only with strange people you want to impress.
It's a first here at Fjord that I'm gonna quote Lennon, but I want to, and it seems ap-ro-po.
"Life is what happens when yer making other plans"
We've all gots schemes, and I've probly gots a hundred more than youse (no kids...natch)...and I know some peoples who've gots triple that amount in the works...but try and grab ahold of the idea I'm bringing, that no matter how many you're working on, the important shit is always inbetween the successes or failures of all of 'em, and who you get to share your victories and defeats with.
I'd like to slightly modify a well known statement for the International Community of Devoted Fjordlings, which would be,
"A Minor League Media Demon Is In the Details."
Demons and Devils are always in the details, and they don't have to be bad at all. But they are always there, and always lurking. I just hope yer all paying some attention to them, since sooner or later yer going to have yer life flash before your eyes, and it's going to be a bunch of details that happened while you were making all your plans. And I hope to hell that, that Devil shows you a bunch of stuff that's totally, amazingly, great.
Happy New Yar,
Yers,
-Tsunami-
This one always gots to me...
And I'm happy as hell to be able to drop this on yas. It might be a little late, but it don't matter.
Happy everything.
Happy everything.
Friday, December 28, 2007
THREE!
I'm starting to like this...I really am. Clean slate, that fresh "new year smell," and the total lack of work down at the Casa Aloha H.Q., man, this is livin'. (Oh yeah, not like I'm complainin' but we also got three visitors today...coincidence? I think not.)Now, onto sum quick infomation on what's happnin' with Fridays. I've done a couple of bits on my friend's internet radio station called "Flat Rat Radio" where I do a kickass traffic and weather bit, and it usually absorbs a lotta creative juices whereupon, I don't really feel like telling some new tale of Friday and his band of merry weekdays...umm, on Friday. (There's no show tonite, but check in weekly at 6:00 P.S.T., and you'll hear some good tunes, and me ramblin on about something or other, which will probly be worth yer time.)
Anyhoo, I'm getting better at preparing my Friday bit on Thursday, so maybe if I get clever (not cleaver) I'll start working out a Friday post on Wednesday...but I have to tell yas, it's not entirely likely, unless this new year shit works out in exactly the right way.
But, since we're here now, and there's no show fer me to do, and there's only three djang days left...here's three tasty posts from Friday's past. (They'll probly be worth it...they gots the Tsunami recommendation)
ONE
TWO
THREE
Happy Gjoddamn and Merry Fuckin'!
From Yer Pal Tsunami, over here at the W.C.B of Fjord!
And if yer still here...here's a bonus fjordian classic!
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Haha...see in "Fjordian Speak"
"Fjord Days" is like, umm, five days!
Hahahah...well, now that we've laughed at all that, some more sobering news.
here's an interesting take on the ongoing mortgage crisis that's literally fucking the U.S. economy, and will, methinks, pretty much drag us kicking and screaming out of the "Empire Building" business for a while. For those of you who weren't counting, that's 67.6 billion dollars written off...just disappeared, and that was just today. If I was a more adept blogger, I would have been counting since the sub-prime thingymajigger started, but I'm pretty sure were up to a few hundred billion dollars that were just kinda' erased off'n the balance sheets.
I'll finish this one by adding a hearty..."FOUR!"
Hahahah...well, now that we've laughed at all that, some more sobering news.
here's an interesting take on the ongoing mortgage crisis that's literally fucking the U.S. economy, and will, methinks, pretty much drag us kicking and screaming out of the "Empire Building" business for a while. For those of you who weren't counting, that's 67.6 billion dollars written off...just disappeared, and that was just today. If I was a more adept blogger, I would have been counting since the sub-prime thingymajigger started, but I'm pretty sure were up to a few hundred billion dollars that were just kinda' erased off'n the balance sheets.
I'll finish this one by adding a hearty..."FOUR!"
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
FJORD DAYS ARE NOT LIKE "FORD DAYS"
Fjord days to the New Yjear!
+++
Is yer slate clean?
Is yer slate so full of crap you'd like to wipe it into the vjoid?
Is yer conscious clean?
Is yer launjdry so dirty you can't even bear to look at it?
Is yer mortal coil ready for another year in this Gjodforsaken (preposterously new) millennium?
Are you drunk enough?
Are you sober enough?
Are you drugged enough?
Are you grounded enough?
Are you supplied with enough to help you get through the beginning of another official "calendar orbit" around our sun?
We, speaking officially from the Casa Aloha...the West Coast Branch of Fjord, are privy to a few things...so lemmy drop it on yas.
1) If you have a clean slate, you've either not been living well, or are near Nirvana, and I hate that band.
2) If you have a slate worth wiping into the void, you probly wanna remember what you lived thru...cause that's the coal life's giving you to make diamonds out of.
3) If you have a conscious, you clearly don't have to worry about it being clean...yer already clean.
4) If you have dirty clothes, you need to realize you're doing better than 60% of the rest of the world, and if you can clean them, yer doing better than 80% of the rest of the world. If you haven't gotten to clean them because yer too busy watching the internets or TiVo, or making the world a better place 'cause yer init, well, yer better than 95% of everybody.
5)You know this as well as I...yer mortal coil is ready for anything that's thrown at it, and it'll be fine.
+++
6)Drunk enough is all a matter of perspective.
7)Sober enough, is a matter of perspective, and willpower.
8)Drugged enough...??? We live in a world of drugs, and if some work for yas, well, good on ya.
9)Grounded? Hah! If you've read anything from Fjord over the last two years and have come back...I'm pretty sure you're grounded as fjuck.
10)You know as well as I, that this new year is just another day. The Sun and the Moon do not use heralds to trumpet in another month, nor another year. Angels and Cherubs do not show up once you've turned another year older. Whatever you've got, will be more than enough to get you the stuff you need to get you thru this next one.
And you know that's all true.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Sorry fjord the delay
But like every year, around this time, I'm busy saving Christmas. Yeah, yeah, I hear you asking, "whaddayamean Tsunami??" Well, what I mean, is that since 1997 or so, I've been saving x-mas, and any of your x-mas's since then are because of me! I'm busy right now doing x-actly that, and because of it, I've got no time to blog! So hold your collective breath until I do, (at which time I will probably be enjoying my Christmas- and so will you) and after you've enjoyed a most awesome holiday, maybe you'll think to thank me for providing another seemless Christmas. Probly not, but that's okay. I clearly don't mind sacrificing myself for the greater good.
Happy Holidays,
-Tsunami-
Saturday, December 15, 2007
So...to continue...
I've spent a little while on the internets today, and came up with this...
"I get nervous in social situations motha' fucka'"
classic.
"I get nervous in social situations motha' fucka'"
classic.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Umm...guys...err...listen...
You should really go here and watch at least one episode of Teen Girl Squad. It'll be worth it. I promise.
We've never crunched the numbers
Here at Fjord. In fact, I have no idea how many of you are "Cat" people, and how many are "Dog" people. I'm staunchly in the "Dog" camp, but have met a couple of totally awesome cats in my time. Anyhoo - I've got this sweet little website you can peruse which deals strictly with cats in war. (and it's pretty interesting)
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Celebrity Quote-Off!
Marlene Dietrich..."The average man is more interested in a woman who is interested in him than he is in a woman with beautiful legs."
Or
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
Just when you thought it was safe...
It's even worse than the mummy lions! It's a gjoddang 77 million-year-old dinosaur!
"How do you stop a 77-million-year-old dinosaur Tusnami?" You ask.
Well, since we haven't done anything to stop a 3,300 year-old one from getting a new sarcophagus, and some (obviously bespelled/possessed idiots) are trying to preserve his mummy-corpse, I'd say the whole task is reasonably hopeless.
However, I would say, like all mummies, you must destroy their physical corpse, which is their connection to the afterlife, and immortality. Consequently, the older they are, the more powerful and tricksy they get. Just like King Tut realized his mummy was being damaged, he got a few mummy helpers (probably with promises of material rewards) to help preserve his corpse. Just like that, a 77 million year-old dinosaur mummy, would probably realize he was about to erode into nothing, and psychically led some archaeologists to the spot of his mummy, and voila! The Mummy Dinosaur continues to devour souls and continue happily in immortality.
As for the original question, I'd suggest the old standby, a flamethrower. Of course, against a dinosaur-sized mummy, it should be a really big one, or at least a few of the regular sized ones.
Saturday, December 01, 2007
Jellyfish Swarm Of 10 Square Miles!!! Holy Crap!
Again the world conspires to please me.
Since it's a yahoo news story, and they sometimes dissapear...here's the juicy bits.
BELFAST (AFP) - Northern Ireland's only salmon farm was completely wiped out by a freak jellyfish attack, the owners said Wednesday.
More than 100,000 fish worth more than one million pounds (2.1 million dollars, 1.4 million euros) were killed in the invasion at Glenarm Bay and Red Bay, on the County Antrim north-east coast
"In 30 years, I've never seen anything like it. It was unprecedented, absolutely amazing. The sea was red with these jellyfish and there was nothing we could do about it, absolutely nothing.
"I have never experienced such concentrations of jellyfish spread over such a wide area. The vastness was unbelievable."
The seven-hour attack over Tuesday and Wednesday last week saw the jellyfish covering a sea area of up to 10 square miles (26 square kilometres) and 35 feet (11 metres) deep.
Since it's a yahoo news story, and they sometimes dissapear...here's the juicy bits.
BELFAST (AFP) - Northern Ireland's only salmon farm was completely wiped out by a freak jellyfish attack, the owners said Wednesday.
More than 100,000 fish worth more than one million pounds (2.1 million dollars, 1.4 million euros) were killed in the invasion at Glenarm Bay and Red Bay, on the County Antrim north-east coast
"In 30 years, I've never seen anything like it. It was unprecedented, absolutely amazing. The sea was red with these jellyfish and there was nothing we could do about it, absolutely nothing.
"I have never experienced such concentrations of jellyfish spread over such a wide area. The vastness was unbelievable."
The seven-hour attack over Tuesday and Wednesday last week saw the jellyfish covering a sea area of up to 10 square miles (26 square kilometres) and 35 feet (11 metres) deep.
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