Yet Another Thing That Can't Be Brought on an Airplane

I caught this little tidbit on the news the other day kiddies. If you've heard this one already, don't spoil it for the others.

Seems a certain Madin Azad Amin was stopped by airport officials after x-rays revealed what looked to be a grenade inside one of his bags.

When asked by officials about the item Mr. Azad Amin made the regrettable decision of telling the officers the item was, in fact, a bomb.

Okay...on to the punchline. What did Mr. Azad Amin really have in his suitcase? Why a penis pump of course.

Of course it's company policy never to imply ownership in the event of a penis pump... always use the indefinite article a penis pump, never your penis pump.

Now looking past the obvious question of whether or not a penis pump is one of those don't-leave-home-without-it type items, one has to question why a man who did take one into an airport would tell security officials it's actually a bomb. The decision has to be called even further into question when you consider the man's name. Madin Azad Amin? Let's face it, that is a name that gives off a strong whiff of ain't-from-around-here. Why would Mr. Azad Amin have done this?

Well the alternative would have been admitting to his traveling partner, Madin's dear old mother, that he was in fact packing a penis pump device.

[Editor's Note: It is unknown if the penis pump was Swedish made.]

Hindsight being 20/20 and all, I'm thinking Madin should have just fessed up. He now faces felony disorderly conduct charges and is looking at a possible three years in the pokey...where I'm guessing his ability, or inability as the case may be, to get it up will have no effect on his love life.

I think it also worth mentioning that even if Mr. Azad Amin ever went the way of jihad and secured his place in paradise....he's going to find it difficult to satisfy all those virgins waiting for him.

Excuse me Mr. Officer, do I have to check my blow-up doll or can I buy her a ticket?

JeffRey

Immigration Bill To Cost U.S. Zillions of Pesos

Yes friends, you have heard it correctly. The Congressional Budget Office has estimated the cost of the current Congressional Immigration Proposal and has come up with a tab of 49 Billion Dollars over the next five years and 127 Billion Dollars over the next decade.

The lion's share of those costs would go to enforcement of the borders, namely hiring more border patrol officers and constructing more checkpoints and detention centers. Spikes in social security benefits and earned income tax credits make up the majority of those costs not related to enforcement.

Just so we're all on the same page, the CBO has effectively told Congress their plan will actually cost, Eleventy Billion Dollars.

And sadly life has imitated "art." Maybe if Keanu Reeves gets Final Jeopardy! correct he can pick up the tab.

Incidentally, the CBO also predicts a "United" States budget deficit of, you might want to sit down....1.7 trillion dollars by the end of the decade, and warns the estimate could double if the w.'s tax cuts for the uber-rich become permanent.

Just so you have an idea of the numbers here, I'm going to illustrate 1.7 trillion.

1,700,000,000,000 !!!!

Now that's the American system of numerology, which is generally accepted by the scientific community, and in this case is actually a relief, as 1.7 trillion would look like this in Great Britain.


1,700,000,000,000,000,000. Wow! (By the way, this number would be known as 1.7 quintillion in the "U."S.

Isn't it fun to play with the numbers in the abstract? Yeah...it almost makes it worth it that I won't be able to retire until I'm 97. Which of course I'll never reach thanks to shitty health insurance and rampant pollution.

Okay, so the main issue of import here is this immigration proposal has caused a significant division in the GOP. The w. likes this proposal, but a lot of congressional elephants favor a plan, already passed in the House, which would make all illegals felons, call for the construction of thousands of miles of fencing along the U.S.-Mexican border and put a stop to all guest worker permits. This estimate by the CBO will undoubtedly provide ammo for the jingoistic xenophobes. (I love buzzwords.)

Anyway, on the lighter side of the news, an Arizona man was killed today by killer bees.

That's right....killer fuckin' bees! Did you know the aggressive African bees known as "killer" bees were actually brought over to the Americas in the 1950's because the thought was they would provide more honey faster?

Well fast forward five decades and a man who was just fixing his roof with his father was stung more than 300 times by these honey-making superbees.

And suddenly I have a great fuckin' idea for a movie.

"I've had it with these muthafuckin' bees buzzing around this muthafuckin' roof!"

I see dollar signs. Oh, wait....Congress needs them.

JeffRey

The Magic and Pageantry That Is....Snakes on a Plane.

Oh yes little crackers, your beloved author is in high spirits today, for the miracle has come.

After months of ever-increasing hype the long-awaited Samuel L. Jackson vehicle Snakes on a Plane hit theaters this weekend, and yours truly was on hand to bask in the spectacle.

For those unawares of Snakes on a Plane, you need to get out more. At one time set for release as, presumably, a bad action movie with a fan-fucking-tastic title, SOAP took on a life of its own thanks to that big bundle of wires called the Internet. On-line fandom soared, causing New Line Studios to pony up a few extra bucks to give the movie some more punch, and (surprisingly) to cater to the public's demand for an R-rating and the insertion of one important bit of dialogue. Oh and some boning too. The added a scene in which people bone. It doesn't go well for those kids.

The plot is fairly run-of-the-mill. Samuel L. Jackson is FBI agent Neville Flynn, assigned the duty of escorting a material witness from Hawaii to Los Angeles. Now Hervé Villechaize has taught us all the way you get from the mainland to an island (or vice versa) is, of course, by plane. So if you're a gangster who needs to rub out a witness, who just happens to be traveling over the ocean (an area not known for readily available emergency landing spots), what do you do?

Why you release crateloads of muthafuckin' snakes on that muthafuckin' plane! (Imagine me right now tossing down my arms D-Generation X style.)

Yeah, pretty standard stuff.

What results is about an hour of reptilian mayhem. Oh and these snakes don't just go for the easy bite targets either. I mean, sure you have some bitten hands and ankles, but these bad boys go after eyes, tongues, titties and johnsons too.

"Johnsons?"

*Pointing downward*

"Oh yes, right you are."

Sound painful? Yeah...looked painful. *Doffing my cap and placing it over my heart in memory of a fallen soldier.*

I cannot fully explain just how much fun this movie is. I've been looking forward to it for a long time and when the moment finally arrived I really feared this thing would suck royally. Instead, I am happy to report this film is both nonstop fun and very, very funny. It's also not the funny in an ironic way...you know cause the film sucks but it sucks so bad it's funny. Yeah, we're not talking Ed Wood type material here. The plot, dialogue and acting are all campy and the cast and crew never take themselves too seriously. The result is a horror film that isn't that scary, an action film that isn't all that dynamic, and a comedy that hits a muthafuckin' home run.

The effects were decent. Quite a few real snakes were used in the shoot, combined with CGI for the bites and some of the snake "acting" moments.

The soundtrack was a lot of fun featuring, among others, Coheed and Cambria, Spearhead, Panic! At the Disco, the All-American Rejects, the Sounds and supergroup Cobra Starship (Who have a video running during the credits if you stick around.). The soundtrack did not feature, surprisingly, the Detroit Cobras, Whitesnake or Stryper (Which may or may not be a snake term, but even if it isn't...every soundtrack should have some Stryper. To Hell With the Devil!).

And while the film is obviously Samuel L. Jackson's all the way, there are some other relatively big names in the film. Todd Louiso (High Fidelity) is the snake expert on the ground, recruited to provide information as to treatment of the bites. Kenan Thompson (Saturday Night Live) plays the bodyguard/entourage member of rapper Three G's (Uhh...okay.) who finds himself called upon to lend his...well, his Sony PlayStation expertise to the proceedings. Julianna Margulies (TV's ER) is the stewardess making one last flight before beginning...law school? Yeah, yeah, I know, but hey, you need to suspend disbelief. Finally, the University of Missouri's own David Koechner (Saturday Night Live & Anchorman) is the oversexed co-pilot of this little journey.

I can't recommend this film enough. Don't wait for the DVD, and don't go at 1:30 pm on a Tuesday. You need to see it soon and at night so that you can enjoy it with a theater full of people as this is a film to be shared with others. If you follow the actors and film makers and remember to not take it too seriously, I guarantee you'll be glad you've seen...Snakes on a Plane.

Incidentally, the film also has a social conscience. It teaches all of us valuable lessons about the dangers of smoking and pre-marital sex, the importance of being kind to animals, proper supervision of one's children...and oh, yes...what to do when you've "had it with these muthafuckin' snakes on this muthafuckin' plane!"

This has been a muthafuckin' blog from muthafuckin' JeffRey

Music To My Fears

Okay, I was trippin' the light fandango the other day and I came to a realization.

I really fucking hate "The Whiter Shade of Pale."

The hotel where I happen to be employed pipes canned music into the lobby. The guests, and unfortunately myself, are "treated" to predominantly pussywhipped, whiny, little bitch singer-songwriters like James Blunt.

Incidentally, we can we stop the whole pussywhipped singer-songwriter fad? I mean Eli can't be buying that many cd's, so the money train must be grinding to a halt sometime soon right?

Anyway, I digress. The canned tunes also feature a spate of covers, mostly...not actually entirely, horri-awful. The worst would be the lounge singer take on Radiohead's "High and Dry" but there are a handful of Beatles' covers that leave me bleeding out the ears as well.

But you know what? I can put up with all that. There are enough shitty songs in the rotation that I generally only hear each once every couple of hours. But some fuckin' joker...I swear to god (and I do mean Allah) has programmed Procol Fuckin' Harum to play every third song. It takes about two run throughs and I have officially become a redder shade of pissed the fuck off.

I've even resorted to some lamaze type breathing to settle my nerves. I can't take this much fucking longer. I think I'm going Section 8.

"I am...in a world...of shit."

Send cd's now...things are falling apart...the center cannot hold.

JeffRey

Kirby Not-So-Upright

This just in news fans....

Legendary Hollywood actor Bruno Kirby has died due to complications from leukemia. You may remember him from such nature films as "Earwigs: Ewwww" and "Man vs. Nature: The Road to Victory."

Seriously Bruno was one of those "that guys" who will, unfortunately, be remembered more for his role in "City Slickers" rather than that of young Clemenza in "The Godfather: Part II."

So if you go out tonight, pour out a quick win for the Kirbster. Meanwhile I will be paying homage to the man by cornering Leonard DiCaprio in the shower and making a feeble attempt at first grabbing his nuts and then an even more feeble attempt at paying him to be quiet once he rejects my advances.

Til Next Time My Friends

JeffRey

A Grammatical Expression....

hello little crackers,

i'm aFraid i don't have a particULar point to get across to you today. that said, i didn't want to LEave you all high and dRy, jonesIng for you daily doSe of feel-good sociAlism.

so i ask you aLl to consIder This. did mayberry really need a sheriff? mayberry was a ciTy with no crime. the onLy guy pEpetrating was the local Boozehound who had hIs own keys To the Cells. i say, fire andy and barney and spend the casH to make the show in color. and for the love of god (however you may envision him/her) can we get a theme song sans fuckin' whistling?

so.....what do you think?

"Ice, Ice Baby"

So I's at Shakespeare's Pizza, the new one incidentally, which I happen to really like. I mean it lacks the ambiance of the downtown locale, but if you're just looking for a meal it's set up pretty well and right by Truman's, which is quickly moving up my list of favorite Columbia bars.

So the Lovely Brook and I were there meeting with my pals Randolph and the Big O, who are soon entering into the state of Holy Matrimony, which I think borders the state of Insanity.

So we're having lunch. I went with the Meats and Cheeses Salad as the Lovely Brook and I had eaten a, relatively speaking, late breakfast with her folks.

So's anyway, I's eating my salad and drinking an iced tea (Notice not an ice tea, which is wrong both grammatically and morally.) when I decided I'd like a refill. Now Shakespeare's is one of those workaurants where you have to get your own beverage. I notice the Big O is also nearing the end of her beverage (Coca-Cola for those who enjoy details...or even those who enjoy Esquire.), so I offer to fill her glass as well. She tells me that would be nice and she'd like just a little bit of ice, if it's no trouble.

So I make my way to the beverage station and tap, I don't thrust, the Big O's cup against the ice-summoning lever....and a fucking glacier falls into the cup!

I'm sorry, but what moron at the ice machine factory thought it would be a good idea for every person on Earth to have 9 pounds of fucking ice in their drink. I know it's hot enough to melt lead outside, but the restaurant was maintaining its internal temperature quite nicely. In fact, it was almost too cool, so I think an entire slab of ice was less than necessary.

Oooh...I'm so perturbed.

JeffRey

"What a Drag it is Getting Old."

I've a question for all the, relatively, young folks out there.

What do you suppose might be your first indicator you're getting older. I'm not talking the standard stuff, as most of that just doesn't apply to me personally and I'm sure probably doesn't really apply to anyone else either. My hairline has been receding like an Amazonian rainforest for years. My friends will be calling me Cueball by the time I'm 35. It's not the eyesight either. I've had the vision of a chronic masturbator since the first grade. I'm blaming genetics and a cruel God for those. As for memory...well, I think the volumes of intoxicants and mood alterers, both legal and otherwise, I've ingested over the years are to blame for the gaps in memory more than any turning of the calendar.

No friends...I have a different theory. And it comes from recent experience.

A couple weeks back I found myself having a moment in the restroom of the local shopping mall. Now the experience on the whole was a little disconcerting for me at first as I found the space allotted for the hinge on the stall door left me a little more exposed than I'd have preferred. However, I soldiered through and afterwards had a thought so prevalent in my mind I nearly spoke the words aloud.

"That was one of the greatest shits of my entire life."

Now it's worth mentioning that particular thought was quickly followed by another.

"What kind of person grades their bowel movements relative to one another?"

My only answer....clearly old men.

So there is my answer. You know you're starting to get old when you begin rating bowel movements.

Age gracefully kids.

JeffRey

California Police "Hot for Teacher."

This just in, Eric Norman Olsen, an educator for the last three years in several California towns has been charged with committing lewd and lascivious acts with a minor. The minor in question, a 10-year old female student of Olsen's, is just one of the nearly 200 children Olsen has reportedly claimed to police to have molested.

Unconfirmed reports say Olsen will plead not guilty by reason of insanity, claiming postpartum psychosis drove him to the cowardly victimization of children. Prosecutors have rebuffed this claim on the basis of postpartum psychosis being a complete load of bullshit and absolutely no excuse for crimes against children.

JeffRey

Where Is His Mind? Where Is His Mind?

A quick thank you to the Pixies for passively allowing my little remix on one of their tunes to provide today's post title.

[Editor's Note: By passively allowing, the author means no member of the Pixies will ever read this, thereby removing any chance of litigation.]

So it seems former Presidential and Senatorial candidate, and we use that word loosely, Alan Keyes found himself in mid-Missouri Monday. What was he doing here you might ask. Well, the famed economist was putting his education and professional experience to good use speaking about....stem cell research.

Now, sadly, I was unable to attend said event, though normally I love listening to completely irrelevant political figures taking themselves far more seriously than anyone else does.

I did, however, catch a quick recap of Mr. Keyes's lecture, in which he compared stem cell research to the worst excesses of...wait for it....American slavery AND....can you see this one coming or what....Nazi Germany!

Did I mention one of the few things I enjoy more than listening to completely irrelevant political figures is listening to completely irrelevant political figures who have, in fact, gone totally fucking nuts?

You know what's interesting though is on a quiet night...I can hear the stem cells crying. Crying tears of regret for their fallen brothers and sisters.

I'd like to give you verbatim quotes from Mr. Keyes, but like I said I wasn't there and the quality of press coverage in Mid-Mo is...hit and miss you might say. Therefore I cannot confirm nor deny the rumor Mr. Keyes has blamed all the ills of stem cell research on carpet-bagging senators from New York.

Oh, by the way Alan, have you got Barack Obama's foot out of your ass yet?

Well kids, cloned and otherwise, that's all I got for today as I am at work and not really supposed to be blogging right now. Until next time all I can say is....

Miss? Dr. Mengele will see you now.

JeffRey