A 13 year old girl's feet got fucking cut off on the Superman ride! Some cable snapped and chopped them right off above the ankle. Wow. What a shitty vacation. It kinda makes me want to get a job at an amusment park, I mena, shit, hooker fights and drunk tourists are amusing, but no one ever gets any of their limbs violently removed right in front of me. That's fucking terrible and fascinating to behold, I reckin'.
"But Daub? What about the poor little girl who got hurt? Have you no compassion?"
In a word, no. She got hurt voluntarily doing something fun. Fun things are often dangerous. I mean, come on, it's a ride that you strap into and then it drops you 200 ft at 55mph! You could get the same thrill jumping off a building, though argueably the Superman ride has a lower fatality rate than that alternative.
Besides, the cable could have just as easily severed her head.
end transmission.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
If you don't remind me, I won't forget you.
If you don't already know, "Dear You" by Jawbreaker, it will kill you. It's the most powerful album I've ever heard.
Aside from that, I guess I don't have a lot to say. "I m jet black, I am stone cold."
end transmission.
Aside from that, I guess I don't have a lot to say. "I m jet black, I am stone cold."
end transmission.
Friday, June 15, 2007
If what you seek aint free, then fucking steal it.
First of all, I might be the last person who has heard of the BBC documentary "Planet Earth." If I am indeed, next to last, and you are the last one, let me tell you, it is fucking incredible. Run, don't walk, to the internet and buy it. The great white jumping out of the water in slo-mo....jesus it's fucking incredible, the whole thing looks like it's CGI, it's such an odd perspective on wildlife footage, I guess it took 5 years to make...anyway it's awesome. If you know how to use torrents, you can watch it for free, if you don't know how to use torrents, you are an archaic relic, and are falling so far behind the herd that that you deserve to be eaten. Seriously, you're like that old lady who is wasting everyone's time trying to pay with a check, and you left your driver's license at home, ad you demand that you be trusted due to the fact you've been shopping here for 40 years. Get with it!
What was I going to say...fuck?
I was late for work today. You all know how punctual I am, how could this have happened? Did I oversleep? Did I take to long jerking off in the shower? Whas there a traffic accident? All viable reasons...but alas, no.
I was feeling a little sluggish, so I stopped at a gas station for a Sugar free, So-Be energy boost. I grabbed the can out of the fridge, and went to pay for it. There was only one person in front of me, some scraggly looking dude buying a 12 pack of MGD. The cashier rang it up, and asked for the $12.37 needed to purchase such an august item. The dude had only a ten dollar bill.
A dilemma to be certain. So what does this asshole do? He turns, and looks at me, and says, "Can I borrow a couple bucks? I'm a little short."
You can imagine my response.
He said, "hold on," and went, slowly, out to his car. I told the cashier, who I have seen on more than one occasion, due to the gas station's prominent location on my route to work, "Here's the 2 bucks for mine (the beverage was technically $1.99 with tax)."
She told me she had to ring it up first, and she couldn't do that until she cleared this guy's order. My rage gauge was in the red, I looked at my watch and debated whether I needed the energy drink that bad. At this point, the guy comes back, somehow he had acquired $1.34. Now he had $11.34, which was not enough, but he was hopeful he could barter the beer's price down to this level.
I am now purple with rage. I look at the people behind me in line, they seem to be content to wait. I slapped a dollar on the counter, took 3 pennies from the little bin, and said..."Ok, come on. I gotta go."
The dude smiled, told me thanks. He grabbed for the 12 pack, but before he could grab it, I tore open the top, took one of the cans out, and put it in my pocket. HE looked mad, but stifled his protest and left.
end transmission.
What was I going to say...fuck?
I was late for work today. You all know how punctual I am, how could this have happened? Did I oversleep? Did I take to long jerking off in the shower? Whas there a traffic accident? All viable reasons...but alas, no.
I was feeling a little sluggish, so I stopped at a gas station for a Sugar free, So-Be energy boost. I grabbed the can out of the fridge, and went to pay for it. There was only one person in front of me, some scraggly looking dude buying a 12 pack of MGD. The cashier rang it up, and asked for the $12.37 needed to purchase such an august item. The dude had only a ten dollar bill.
A dilemma to be certain. So what does this asshole do? He turns, and looks at me, and says, "Can I borrow a couple bucks? I'm a little short."
You can imagine my response.
He said, "hold on," and went, slowly, out to his car. I told the cashier, who I have seen on more than one occasion, due to the gas station's prominent location on my route to work, "Here's the 2 bucks for mine (the beverage was technically $1.99 with tax)."
She told me she had to ring it up first, and she couldn't do that until she cleared this guy's order. My rage gauge was in the red, I looked at my watch and debated whether I needed the energy drink that bad. At this point, the guy comes back, somehow he had acquired $1.34. Now he had $11.34, which was not enough, but he was hopeful he could barter the beer's price down to this level.
I am now purple with rage. I look at the people behind me in line, they seem to be content to wait. I slapped a dollar on the counter, took 3 pennies from the little bin, and said..."Ok, come on. I gotta go."
The dude smiled, told me thanks. He grabbed for the 12 pack, but before he could grab it, I tore open the top, took one of the cans out, and put it in my pocket. HE looked mad, but stifled his protest and left.
end transmission.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Daub's a decent guy, until he drinks, and then his liquid mind takes over how he thinks.
Well, fuck me. I forgot I still had more story to tell. I got off on a tangent writing a story about cannibalism, and I just forgot about it. Anyway.
Grandpa had found his brother in Mexico, and found that he was very paranoid about who he would and would not meet in person. The lovely girl with the gun was Robert's 17 year old daughter. She eventually led them to Robert and there was general merriment at the reunion. Garner and Robert when off to get drunk and catch up, and Grandma and the girls were set to preparing the feast for the celebration, in fact, a pig was to be slaughtered for the occasion!
So while my kinda prissy grandma helped kill and gut a giant hog, Robert caught Garner up on what he was doing hiding in Mexico. It turned out that Robert had started to make a quite a large amount of money running guns from California to Mexico (and onward to where ever, apparently getting them out of the U.S, is the hard part), trading them for drugs and cash and then bringing the drugs back to the U.S.
He did this largely by boat, but used planes sometimes. This went on for years, and Robert amassed a shit ton of money, laundered through an few legit businesses in the States. No one noticed that a pet shop, a home improvement store, and bar were making tens of millions of dollars a year, until the bar was failed it's liquor license recertification for serving underage drinkers. This, in itself, was not a big deal, until it came time to file the tax returns, and a bar that was supposedly shut down for the last 8 months posted record profits.
An audit ensued, and Robert abandoned ship, left his wife in CA, clueless as to where he disappeared to and even less informed of her husband's actual profession. (Garner said that Robert had always hated this woman, but because a divorce might reveal his secret monies, had to endure her. So when he bailed, he left her with nothing, since all his assets were confiscated, fuck you hag!) He had set up this safe house in Mexico years before, and so there he was for the past 7 years, hiding from the FBI. He got married again to some mexican chick (I think she was his housekeeper at one time) he had knocked up years before, and just kinda drank and hung out. He covered his tracks pretty good, since the U.S. Government had yet to find him, but the fact that Garner's P.I. was successful was a miracle.
So Garner told him about his twin sons in Germany, and Robert (who had apparently wanted to marry his german nurse, but was not allowed to by the state department) decided they would leave for Germany as soon as possible, his hiding be damned.
If I was making up this story it would end with the twins being an FBI sting and Robert would have fought his way out of the trap, kinda like in Scarface, but alas no. This story has a pretty happy ending. They stayed in Germany for a few months, getting to know his long lost progeny. Unfortunately, Robert's nurse had died five years previous, but had always spoken kindly of him.
end transmission
Grandpa had found his brother in Mexico, and found that he was very paranoid about who he would and would not meet in person. The lovely girl with the gun was Robert's 17 year old daughter. She eventually led them to Robert and there was general merriment at the reunion. Garner and Robert when off to get drunk and catch up, and Grandma and the girls were set to preparing the feast for the celebration, in fact, a pig was to be slaughtered for the occasion!
So while my kinda prissy grandma helped kill and gut a giant hog, Robert caught Garner up on what he was doing hiding in Mexico. It turned out that Robert had started to make a quite a large amount of money running guns from California to Mexico (and onward to where ever, apparently getting them out of the U.S, is the hard part), trading them for drugs and cash and then bringing the drugs back to the U.S.
He did this largely by boat, but used planes sometimes. This went on for years, and Robert amassed a shit ton of money, laundered through an few legit businesses in the States. No one noticed that a pet shop, a home improvement store, and bar were making tens of millions of dollars a year, until the bar was failed it's liquor license recertification for serving underage drinkers. This, in itself, was not a big deal, until it came time to file the tax returns, and a bar that was supposedly shut down for the last 8 months posted record profits.
An audit ensued, and Robert abandoned ship, left his wife in CA, clueless as to where he disappeared to and even less informed of her husband's actual profession. (Garner said that Robert had always hated this woman, but because a divorce might reveal his secret monies, had to endure her. So when he bailed, he left her with nothing, since all his assets were confiscated, fuck you hag!) He had set up this safe house in Mexico years before, and so there he was for the past 7 years, hiding from the FBI. He got married again to some mexican chick (I think she was his housekeeper at one time) he had knocked up years before, and just kinda drank and hung out. He covered his tracks pretty good, since the U.S. Government had yet to find him, but the fact that Garner's P.I. was successful was a miracle.
So Garner told him about his twin sons in Germany, and Robert (who had apparently wanted to marry his german nurse, but was not allowed to by the state department) decided they would leave for Germany as soon as possible, his hiding be damned.
If I was making up this story it would end with the twins being an FBI sting and Robert would have fought his way out of the trap, kinda like in Scarface, but alas no. This story has a pretty happy ending. They stayed in Germany for a few months, getting to know his long lost progeny. Unfortunately, Robert's nurse had died five years previous, but had always spoken kindly of him.
end transmission
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
We want to not know you, to better know you.
So where was I...
Oh yeah, well my Grandfather's 2nd eldest brother (my step-great-uncle? I dunno.) was shot three times by the surprised Nazi's in the foxhole he mistakenly charged, a flesh wound on his left leg, and two shots in his right arm/shoulder. He made it back to his unit and was med-evac-ed back to a hospital somewhere in Alsace, France which for those of you who don't know is on the German/French border, and is super fertile land. Almost every war those two countries fought were over this small strip of land, and everyone that lives there are as much German as they are French.
Anyway, he spent the rest of the war sitting there with a shattered collarbone and a broken arm.
Now we fast forward 28 years. My grandfather, Garner, is just sitting around doing whatever, and he gets a call. It is from a young man, stationed in Canada. A german soldier on some kind of training stint. The boy says he is trying to find his father. The lad's investigations could not reveal the location of anyone else in the family, and Garner was the only person related to his father he could track down.
Garner flies to Canada and meets the boy, who it turns out is a twin. Moreover, he is the son of Garner's brother (I guess I should start referring to him as "Robert," since that is his name) their mother was a nurse in the hospital where he recovered.
Robert knocked up this nurse (good work, dude!) and was shipped out of the country before he found out she was pregnant. She was unable to get word to him, obviously there was a little animosity toward the Germans in 1945. Garner told the kid he would like to help him, but Garner had not seen Robert in almost 13 years, he could have been anywhere, but Garner promised to do his best to find him and tell him he had twin sons in Germany.
The last Garner knew his brother was somewhere in California, but all his old addresses were all abandoned, and no one seemed to know where he was. Garner hired a private investigator to find his brother, and just waited.
It took the guy almost 7 months to track Robert down. Garner got a call; "Your brother's somewhere in Mexico, I need more money to go find him." Garner paid the man and waited again.
2 months later he gets a call. "I found Robert, if you want to see him I know where he is." So, Garner grabs my grandmother and heads down to Mexico. It's funny imagining a woman who doesn't even know how to pump her own gas going on this adventure...but it happened.
They flew into Mexico City and then drove in some shitty bus north to Guadalajara. At this point Garner is a little suspicious, he's not sure what the fuck is going on, and the PI won't say shit. The PI gets them a "cab" (some asshole with an old VW bug), and tells them this is as far as he goes. So it's Garner and Grandma alone in Fuck Off MExico, alone and headed out of town.
About 5 miles out of the city they come to a huge complex, i guess you would call it. A house surrounded by 15 foot walls. The cab drops them off, and leaves them at the front gate.
Neither of them speak Spanish, and Garner walks up to the gate and basically just keeps repeating "Robert Payne?" over and over to everyone he can see. Finally a guy let's them in, and not too gently walks them into the main house. Apparently the estate was massive, all kinds of side houses, stables and such.
They are brought to patio where a Mexican woman is sitting in a wheelchair, a blanket over her legs. She smiles at them and says (in broken English) "You are looking for Robert?"
Garner says, "Yes, he's my brother. I've been looking for him for a while."
The woman is skeptical, "If you are his brother...prove it."
Prove it? "Uh, I don't know. He's my brother," was all Garner could think to say.
The woman was unconvinced. Then Garner told her, "He has a big scar on the side of his face that he got from a farming accident in Wisconsin when we were kids, and he's also missing these fingers."
This seemed to convince the woman. She smiled. Then she pulled the blanket off her lap to reveal a double barreled, sawed off shotgun, aimed at them. "I think you are who you say," she told them.
I told you every one of Garner's 9 siblings were self made millionaires? Not all of them did it legally.
There's more.
end transmission.
Oh yeah, well my Grandfather's 2nd eldest brother (my step-great-uncle? I dunno.) was shot three times by the surprised Nazi's in the foxhole he mistakenly charged, a flesh wound on his left leg, and two shots in his right arm/shoulder. He made it back to his unit and was med-evac-ed back to a hospital somewhere in Alsace, France which for those of you who don't know is on the German/French border, and is super fertile land. Almost every war those two countries fought were over this small strip of land, and everyone that lives there are as much German as they are French.
Anyway, he spent the rest of the war sitting there with a shattered collarbone and a broken arm.
Now we fast forward 28 years. My grandfather, Garner, is just sitting around doing whatever, and he gets a call. It is from a young man, stationed in Canada. A german soldier on some kind of training stint. The boy says he is trying to find his father. The lad's investigations could not reveal the location of anyone else in the family, and Garner was the only person related to his father he could track down.
Garner flies to Canada and meets the boy, who it turns out is a twin. Moreover, he is the son of Garner's brother (I guess I should start referring to him as "Robert," since that is his name) their mother was a nurse in the hospital where he recovered.
Robert knocked up this nurse (good work, dude!) and was shipped out of the country before he found out she was pregnant. She was unable to get word to him, obviously there was a little animosity toward the Germans in 1945. Garner told the kid he would like to help him, but Garner had not seen Robert in almost 13 years, he could have been anywhere, but Garner promised to do his best to find him and tell him he had twin sons in Germany.
The last Garner knew his brother was somewhere in California, but all his old addresses were all abandoned, and no one seemed to know where he was. Garner hired a private investigator to find his brother, and just waited.
It took the guy almost 7 months to track Robert down. Garner got a call; "Your brother's somewhere in Mexico, I need more money to go find him." Garner paid the man and waited again.
2 months later he gets a call. "I found Robert, if you want to see him I know where he is." So, Garner grabs my grandmother and heads down to Mexico. It's funny imagining a woman who doesn't even know how to pump her own gas going on this adventure...but it happened.
They flew into Mexico City and then drove in some shitty bus north to Guadalajara. At this point Garner is a little suspicious, he's not sure what the fuck is going on, and the PI won't say shit. The PI gets them a "cab" (some asshole with an old VW bug), and tells them this is as far as he goes. So it's Garner and Grandma alone in Fuck Off MExico, alone and headed out of town.
About 5 miles out of the city they come to a huge complex, i guess you would call it. A house surrounded by 15 foot walls. The cab drops them off, and leaves them at the front gate.
Neither of them speak Spanish, and Garner walks up to the gate and basically just keeps repeating "Robert Payne?" over and over to everyone he can see. Finally a guy let's them in, and not too gently walks them into the main house. Apparently the estate was massive, all kinds of side houses, stables and such.
They are brought to patio where a Mexican woman is sitting in a wheelchair, a blanket over her legs. She smiles at them and says (in broken English) "You are looking for Robert?"
Garner says, "Yes, he's my brother. I've been looking for him for a while."
The woman is skeptical, "If you are his brother...prove it."
Prove it? "Uh, I don't know. He's my brother," was all Garner could think to say.
The woman was unconvinced. Then Garner told her, "He has a big scar on the side of his face that he got from a farming accident in Wisconsin when we were kids, and he's also missing these fingers."
This seemed to convince the woman. She smiled. Then she pulled the blanket off her lap to reveal a double barreled, sawed off shotgun, aimed at them. "I think you are who you say," she told them.
I told you every one of Garner's 9 siblings were self made millionaires? Not all of them did it legally.
There's more.
end transmission.
Sunday, June 03, 2007
All we know is failure, all we have is us.
I wrote a huge three page dissertation on life versus slavery, but I decided you wouldn't really enjoy it, so you get this instead.
I'm sure you all have met people that have changed your life, someone who has put something to you in a way you never really considered, or helped you through a tough patch....
My grandfather, on my mom's side. He had been married to my biological grandmother since before I was born, so he was pretty much my grandfather. He was a self made millionaire (one of 10 kids, all of which became very wealthy, I'm sure I will tell all their tales some day, but this about just two). My whole life he was very stand-offish, I wasn't his blood, and I was more than a disappointment. This was wholly justified, why would someone who brought himself from nothing to greatness have any pride in a chubby little idiot who had everything handed to him.
He may or may not have sexually abused my mom....I just don't know. I do know that when his death was imminent, we bonded. Not in any deep, emotional way...we just..understood each other, in the end. He knew he was dying, and I was the only competant aire to his legacy. Despite the man shady past, i found myself captivated by his stories, and it was my first real face to face with a man who never thought he would die, dying in front of me. Fuck what an evil, heartless man this was, he did what he needed to, prospered and now...it all came in the heap of shit that faces us all.
This was one of the stories he told me.
Garner's older brother, the second oldest of their brood, lived on the family farm in 1941. He was involved in a horrible accident with a piece of machinery, and escaped with only the loss of his right index finger, and half of the next two fingers. He also received massive scar from his hairline to his jaw.
Like many Americans at this time he enlisted in the war effort, but because of his injury (he had no trigger finger, and was thus unfit for combat duty) he was given desk work in England. When the Germans made their push in 1944 (later to be known as the battle of the bulge) the allies were desperate for warm bodies. This was his chance, they were taking all volunteers, blatantly needing warm bodies to catch bullets in the greatest German offensive of the war.
There he was, finally in combat. Anyone who knows anything about this time in WW2 knows it was luck and pubic hair that held the allied army together. My grandfather's brother found himself in a foxhole when the retreat was called. He was so scared and fucked up that he ran....
Straight into a German fox hole. He had retreated the wrong way and had charged the german lines! HE jumped, stupidly into a foxhole and started shooting. HE killed nazi 5 soldiers who were so surprised they could not react.
He realized what had happened and ran back to his comrades. He was awarded the Medal of Honor, and heralded as a hero.
This, is only the beginning of one of the most amazing stories I have ever heard.
end transmission.
I'm sure you all have met people that have changed your life, someone who has put something to you in a way you never really considered, or helped you through a tough patch....
My grandfather, on my mom's side. He had been married to my biological grandmother since before I was born, so he was pretty much my grandfather. He was a self made millionaire (one of 10 kids, all of which became very wealthy, I'm sure I will tell all their tales some day, but this about just two). My whole life he was very stand-offish, I wasn't his blood, and I was more than a disappointment. This was wholly justified, why would someone who brought himself from nothing to greatness have any pride in a chubby little idiot who had everything handed to him.
He may or may not have sexually abused my mom....I just don't know. I do know that when his death was imminent, we bonded. Not in any deep, emotional way...we just..understood each other, in the end. He knew he was dying, and I was the only competant aire to his legacy. Despite the man shady past, i found myself captivated by his stories, and it was my first real face to face with a man who never thought he would die, dying in front of me. Fuck what an evil, heartless man this was, he did what he needed to, prospered and now...it all came in the heap of shit that faces us all.
This was one of the stories he told me.
Garner's older brother, the second oldest of their brood, lived on the family farm in 1941. He was involved in a horrible accident with a piece of machinery, and escaped with only the loss of his right index finger, and half of the next two fingers. He also received massive scar from his hairline to his jaw.
Like many Americans at this time he enlisted in the war effort, but because of his injury (he had no trigger finger, and was thus unfit for combat duty) he was given desk work in England. When the Germans made their push in 1944 (later to be known as the battle of the bulge) the allies were desperate for warm bodies. This was his chance, they were taking all volunteers, blatantly needing warm bodies to catch bullets in the greatest German offensive of the war.
There he was, finally in combat. Anyone who knows anything about this time in WW2 knows it was luck and pubic hair that held the allied army together. My grandfather's brother found himself in a foxhole when the retreat was called. He was so scared and fucked up that he ran....
Straight into a German fox hole. He had retreated the wrong way and had charged the german lines! HE jumped, stupidly into a foxhole and started shooting. HE killed nazi 5 soldiers who were so surprised they could not react.
He realized what had happened and ran back to his comrades. He was awarded the Medal of Honor, and heralded as a hero.
This, is only the beginning of one of the most amazing stories I have ever heard.
end transmission.
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