Monosyllabic Pedantry

Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Exador's Handy Household Tip #1

Immediately after rubbing IcyHot on your back, resist the urge to wipe laminate flooring dust out of your eyes. Relatively speaking, the dust really isn't that bad.

Monday, January 30, 2006

Operation Fix-My-Back

This whole back thing is pissing me off, so I'm taking action. I've spent the night in the massage chair, and it seems to be working.

11 months after we got married, Mrs Schwartz got into a head-on collision with a dumb cunt that crossed the center line. The stupid bitch was a single mother with three kids, underinsured as hell. By the time we got done paying the lawyer, the private investigator to track her down (she disappeared into her small, north georgia home town), the chiropractor and miscillaneous other expenses, we had about $10,000. We spent a good chunk of it on a real chiropractor's massage chair.
Anyway, this chair is the bomb. I spent the evening watching Sahara (not a bad movie, by the way) and getting massaged. There's no question that I'm moving better. The test will be if it lasts until tomorrow morning, when I wake up.

Update: Tuesday, 7AM

My back is a little better. At least I can now walk normally, as opposed to the old-man-shuffle I was doing yesterday.

Sunday, January 29, 2006

Sunday Night

Does anybody give a shit about the SAG awards? Every time I hear that, all I can think about is Team America and the Film Actors' Guild, or FAGs, and Alec Baldwin saying " a FAG, I think..."

For those of you that watched The Simpsons tonight, did anybody else catch that Rush Limbaugh was at the garage sale where Marge was selling Homer's expired pain killers? That's funny!

My back is still killing me.

I installed two more floor boards, but I'm stuck for the time being; until I can get the special tool from my coworker.

Zachary is limping again. It started about two weeks ago. I have been giving him one of my anti-inflammatories every day, but it doesn't seems to help. All I can think of is that he re-injured himself. Send me money or I'll have to shoot him. I swear, I'll do it. Send the money NOW!

Channeling Methuselah

All work on the floor has stopped. My back got progressively worse until I was relegated to the couch. Mrs Schwartz came over to take care of me. We watched Four Brothers, which had great dialog, but a boring ending.
I started self medicating with gin sometime in the afternoon. Mrs Schwartz gave me 4 Tylenol PM, which put me down like a darted rhino. I don't know how she got me up the stairs to bed.

This morning, it's marginally better, but I still can't walk or move very well. Mrs Schwartz has been on me like a harpy every time I try to get off the couch.

Monday, January 23, 2006


Update: Saturday 2:46 PM. The floor is coming along. I have now moved some of the furniture on to the finished portion, in order to make room. That has also allowed me to get internet access back up and running!
Here's a tip for the readers: Don't finish a row on a 45 degree angle wall. You need a 90 degree angle to tap the last planks into place. Fortunately, I work with a guy who has a metal shop in his barn. On monday, I will make up an orthographic drawing in AutoCad for him and he will make me a specialized tool.
I must have slept wrong last night, because my lower back is killing me and causing me to walk around like Mick Jagger. It is not conducive to heavy lifting.

I should be installing my new floor, but it's already 8:45, and I'd just get a little of it in, so rather than risk damaging the dangling beginnings, I will procrastinate and begin it tomorrow. I have everything prepared and in place:

The carpet's gone (obviously)
I pulled all the little nails and staples out of the plywood.
Bought all the flooring (obviously)
Bought a table saw and a fine tooth blade.
Cleared most of the furniture out of the room.

The flooring says you're supposed to leave it for 48 hours in the room where it will be installed. I assume, to prevent a huge expansion (or contraction) after you have it in place. I'm going with 24 hours, which I doubt is necessary, but it's another excuse to procrastinate.

I've discovered that the base trim is cemented into the fireplace. May the Chupacabra visit the family of the man that installed the fireplace without removing the wood trim. I had to cut it at the edge of the cement and then chip it back with a wood chisel. It's going to be a bitch to get that to all work right when I'm done.
Fortunately, I have a new table saw, just dying to install new trim.

Sunday, January 22, 2006

Where's my dress?


I emailed Fox, and they responded:


Subject: Don't mess with the Sunday night lineup

Fire whoever decided to show the SeaHawks game in place of The Simpsons and Family Guy.


Fox Broadcasting has a contract with the National Football League, and last evening's championship game had been on the schedule since April.
Fox, along with the other three major networks, will usually preempt their regular line-up at some point during the season. With most programs only producing 18 to 22 episodes per year, you'd see each program almost three times, and the networks won't dilute their shows that way.
We appreciate your comments, and thank you for watching Fox5 Atlanta.

Valencya Jones Tucker
Programming Services

What a load of crap. They're doing me a favor, by not diluting their shows?

Fox has decided to play the stupid SeaHawks game rather than their regular sunday light lineup of The Simpsons and Family Guy. I'm pissed. There's nothing but crap on tv.

I have no interest in watching sports. I know, I might as well wear a dress, blah, blah. Now, I enjoy playing sports. I have no interest in watching it, except the occasional boxing or kickboxing match.

I have no idea how some guys' lives revolve around whatever sport. They know all the trivia; who was the QB in 1982 and how many completions he made that year. Sorry, but that's just wasting good brain matter.

Friday, January 20, 2006

Who gets the air?

Zachary got very protective of my niece, Harper Lee, and followed her around everywhere.

My father had a saying,"He's breathing air a good dog could have." This saying impressed upon me the worthlessness of certain people and the value of a good dog.
My family's had a dog my whole life. My father, and necessarily me, bred labs because we were a duck hunting family. We also hunted grouse and deer, but the dogs were designed for ducks. If you haven't been around a well-trained bird dog, you've missed out. A wounded duck will dive under water and grab onto reeds on the bottom. He'll die that way and not come up. A well bred lab will dive under water for a duck. It's a sight. Our lab would lie motionless by her food bowl. When birds would come by to eat her food, she would whap them with her paw. Then she would carry the stunned finches to my father, who would praise her and set them aside to gather their senses and take off. A good bird dog does not harm the birds she's carrying.
One of the labs we had was named Floyd Patterson, because he was big and black. Labs typically run 60 to 85 pounds. Floyd was 140 lbs if he was an ounce. He'd come up to the dinner table and set his head on the table with all four paws on the floor. He had a scar between his eyes where he was hunting grouse and he walked through a barbed wire fence. It didn't slow him down.
But labs are gentle creatures. I never saw Floyd in anger except one time when our female lab, named Trouble, got out of the yard and was being "hit on" by the Irish Setter next door. Floyd cleared the fence with no trouble, and my father had a long talk with the neighbors, apologizing and promising to pay all the vet bills.
Another dog we had growing up was a German Shepherd. This is all before I could remember. Apparently, this dog bonded to my older sister. One day, my sister did something wrong and my father went to punish her for it. This German Shepherd saw what was happening and got between my father and my sister, folded his ears flat, curled up his lips, and let my father know that, No, he would not come near that girl.
Shortly after I moved to Georgia, I worked in a deli with a woman who was the wife of a retired New York City cop. To say that this guy had seen it all after 25 years, would be an understatement. I remember when she told me that you can't walk in Central Park at any time of day. You will get mugged in broad daylight in front of 100 people. The ONLY thing that would stop a mugger is if you had a big dog, because the muggers knew that dogs were not afraid of guns, and would attack them.
When I took a job with a company that required me to travel a lot, I decided to get two big dogs (they were puppies at the time) to stay at home with Mrs Schwartz, because I knew that nothing in the world will protect her like a dog.
If I ever had a kid, I would make sure that the same week the kid came home from the hospital, I would bring home a large breed puppy.
Dogs are pack animals. If you raise them with this in mind, where else are you going to find a killing machine that will literally give it's life to protect members of the pack?
My dogs (110 pounds each) are the gentlest creatures in the world, when I'm around. Mrs Schwartz has plenty of stories, where she's in the front yard with them and a salesman pulls into the drive way. All of Zachary's hair will stick up, and he will emit a low growl out of a Stephen King novel. The salesman will literally throw literature on the ground and dive back into his car.
You just can't get better than that.

Thursday, January 19, 2006


Alright, so I got "Hey-You'd" into this. I'm a follower, I'll bite.

5 JOBS YOU HAVE HAD IN YOUR LIFE: Deli Sandwich Maker, Limo Driver, Bouncer, Night Security Guard, Engineer.

5 MOVIES YOU COULD WATCH OVER AND OVER (and probably have): Army of Darkness, True Romance, Reservoir Dogs, Airplane!, Young Frankenstein.

5 PLACES YOU'VE LIVED: Vestal, NY, Johnson City, NY, Stockbridge, GA, Sandy Springs, GA, Duluth, GA.

5 TV SHOWS YOU LOVE TO WATCH: Battlestar Galactica, Rollergirls, SouthPark, Family Guy, CSI Las Vegas.

5 PLACES YOU'VE BEEN ON VACATION: Tijuana; New Orleans; Key West; The Adirondacks; Vermont;


5 OF YOUR FAVORITE FOODS: Spiedies; Hawaiian Pizza; Filet Mignon; Hot BBQ Brisket; Turkey breast with white wine gravy.

5 PLACES YOU WOULD RATHER BE: Key West; Vermont in Summer; Canoeing the Adirondacks; Ireland, Anywhere with good friends;

5 ALBUMS YOU CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT: HollyWood Nights, Bob Seger; Hot August Nights, Neal Diamond; Other Voices, Other Rooms, Nancy Griffiths; Greatest Stories Live, Harry Chapin; Soul Miner's Daughter, self-titled.

5 PEOPLE YOU'D TAG TO PLAY THIS GAME: I don't spread chain letters.

Mandy and Me

When I discovered that other people sing Mandy to their pets, making up lyrics to fit the situation, it got me to thinking that it's the universal, infinitely adaptable song. So I invite you all to post your own lyrics.

Since I sing it to my dog, it usually goes something like this...and a one, and a two...

Oh Zacharyyy, you're brown and fuzzy and worthlessssss, but I guess you're okkkk, oh Zacharyyy....

C'mon, is this music city or what?

Monday, January 16, 2006

What if I'm diebetic?

New Orleans will be a Chocolate City Again!

Mayor Ray Nagin

Just when you thought you'd seen the limit to this moron's stupidity, he goes the rest of the way around the bend.
First off the playlist is his proclamation that N.O. will be a chocolate city again. I'm all for ethnic and cultural pride. What I'm against is hypocrisy. The hypocrisy that would accompany the outrage over my proclaiming that "Atlanta will be a vanilla city again!"
The hyprocrisy that allows a black man, and a politician no less, to proclaim, "We don't want you white devils moving into our city!"
I guess Mayor Nagin only likes whitey when he's shoveling tax dollars into his city.

"This city will be a majority African American city. It's the way God wants it to be. "

Yeah, God's always hated whitey too.

Isn't this the arguement that the Klan used to use, about how "God wants it to be that way. It's His natural order."

The other idiotic sentiment was that Katrina was all George Bush's fault. Oh, not because he blew up the levees. No, he brought God's wrath upon a city where 3 people voted for him, all by going to war in Iraq. Jehovah does work in mysterious ways.

It's obvious why Mayor Nimrod wants his chocolate city so badly; he needs that voting block. If a bunch of whiteys and affluent blacks move in, they won't vote for a boob, just because he's black. They're going to expect him to be competent. That doesn't bode well for Mr Schoolbus-soaker.

So to recap,

The disaster in N.O. was not the fault of the incompetent mayor, it WAS the fault of W.
God wants whitey out of N.O.
New Orleans will become the Willy Wonka chocolate factory.
Pay no attention to the gunfire.

Sunday, January 15, 2006

You're not Subtle

Mrs Schwartz and I went to lunch yesterday. She is still recovering from her surgery. We went to a bar near my house. It's the closest thing to a NE neighborhood bar around here. It's dark, not too sports-oriented. The bartender's cool and pretty hot.
This bar also has, I suspect, the same drug trafficking that one finds in most bars. It's pretty easy to spot the deal going down, in fact, that's one of the fun things about going to this bar; the people-watching.

Generally, when you've been up for a couple days, you think you're being subtle, but you're not. Here are a few tips for the public:
  1. Buy a friggin drink already. There's nothing more obvious than a guy sitting at a table in a bar who's not drinking or eating anything.
  2. Stop looking around so much. You're just giving yourself away. Guess what? If the cops are watching you, you're pretty much done already.
  3. Don't try to be Mr Cloak and Dagger. Don't try to slip the guy money in some David-Copperfield-slight-0f-hand sort of way. Just hand him the money. People give each other money all time, whether pitching in for drinks or paying off a bet they lost. When you try to be sneaky, you just look like you're doing something illegal.
  4. Guys don't go to the bathroom together. Having one of you go 30 seconds before the other one, doesn't fool anybody.
  5. If you have enough brains to go to the bathroom seperately, go the extra mile and space it out a little. Having one guy come back from the bathroom, sit down, and then 10 seconds later, after an obvious hand off, guy number 2 gets up and goes to the bathroom, isn't fooling anybody. Sit and drink your beer. The coke's not going anywhere.
Yesterday, Mrs Schwartz decided to fuck with the guys passing drugs. I don't know why she enjoys this so much. These particular geniuses brought in a Van Halen dvd to pass the drugs around in. I'm not kidding. They couldn't be any more obvious. Who carries around a Van Halen dvd?

After they violated every one of the tips above, one of them sets the dvd case on the table, and guy#2 comes over and puts his hat over it. So Mrs Schwartz turns 90 degrees, so she's looking right at them. They all panic, mess with the case for a second and walk away from the table. One of the guys actually banged his beer bottle on the table and said "Fuck" as they left the table, to go sit at another table away from the Van Halen case. The case sits on the table for a while. Mrs Schwartz is nagging me to go over and pick it up. "What are they going to, claim it?" I have more of a live-and-let-live attitude, so I don't, although, I make a point of stopping at the table and looking at it on my way to the bathroom. The whole time, the table full of guys is across the room, not knowing what to do.

This went on as we finished our meal. One of the guys kept his eye on us the whole time, by watching our reflection in a mirror. Very sneaky. I get up to pay the tab and go to the bathroom. When I come out, I can't find Mrs Schwartz. Finally I see her. She had gotten up and walked over, to stand right in front of the table of paranoid drug-takers, and was watching a game on the tv that was over their booth. I collected her up and she went on about how panicked they were the whole time. She finds this kind of thing fun.

Friday, January 13, 2006

Why do they keep electing him?

How is it possible that the people of Massachusetts keep electing that murderous moron, Teddy Kennedy, back to the US Senate. That reason alone, is enough for me to never move to that state. Who would want to live amongst such incredibly stupid people?

Update: Bringing up this topic got me to do a quick websearch of the topic of Chappaquiddick. I came by this website: which has a detailed description of the events. It's not complimentory to Teddy. One of the things that struck me about it, is the evidence that Mary Jo was alive and breathing in an airpocket in the overturned car. She died with little water in her lungs, suggesting that she died after using up the oxygen in that air pocket. Her body stiffened up in the position of someone who had propped themselves into a position to breathe that air, as shown below, where original water level is the pocket of trapped air.

It's estimated that she could have easily been alive for two hours, while Teddy fretted about covering his ass. The local firemen estimated that they could have gotten her help within minutes of the accident. Instead, fishermen found the car 7.5 hours later. Only after he was notified, did Teddy own up to the accident, some 9 hours later.

The whole story is a fascinating read, that leaves one wondering why charges are not brought against Teddy today.

Thursday, January 12, 2006

When life imitates The Chapelle Show

Black sergeant was 'loyal Klansman'

About 25 years ago, Ron Stallworth was asked to lead the Ku Klux Klan chapter in Colorado Springs.Problem was, the outgoing Klan leader didn't know that Stallworth is black.

"He asked me to take over the lead because I was a good, loyal Klansman," said Stallworth, who had been in constant phone contact with the Klan leader while leading a yearlong Colorado Springs police investigation into the Klan.

Stallworth later moved to Utah, where he recently retired after nearly 20 years as an investigator for the Utah Department of Public Safety. He says he's amazed that no one ever caught on to the investigation he led starting in 1979. After he was offered Klan leadership, he quietly disappeared.

As a memento Stallworth still carries his Klan membership card — signed by David Duke.

Politically correct morons

On Saturday the Washington Redskins beat the Tampa Bay Buccaneers 17-10 in an NFL wild-card game, which means that this weekend the Redskins travel to Seattle to play the Seahawks, whose 13-3 record is the best in the National Football Conference. The Washington Post, a newspaper in the District of Columbia, reports that this is causing some trouble for a newspaper in Washington state:

To avoid insulting native American heritage, the Seattle Times decided to limit severely the use of the term Redskins in the paper--even if a team with that name will dominate news coverage this week. The Times will not use the moniker in headlines or captions. Reporters can use it only once, as a first reference, in all stories. The Redskins will be referred to almost exclusively as Washington--which could get a little confusing for local readers who also live in that state.

So the Washington Native Americans will be playing?

This reminds me of a CNN broadcast I saw from South Africa. The talking head was trying to explain that the blacks and whites were fighting. She got all choked up and confused before describing the blacks as African American Africans.

I shit you not.

Wednesday, January 11, 2006

Why I don't give to bums

An Oregon paper
has a story about a family of beggars. Mother, father and three children. These losers have been bums for the past 6 years or so. They make a pretty good living at it, $300 to $800 a day. They send their kids to school and live in a local extended stay motel.

When people found out they were, in their words, Affluent Beggars, child services were called in. When the government investigated, they found that the kids were healthy:

"They came out and interviewed her, and said those babies are just fine," DeSilva says. "They’re well-cared for, they’re well-dressed, there are no signs of abuse. If you look at those children they are plump and happy."

My feeling is generally, if you're stupid enough to give to bums, you deserve more bums; however, in this case, these losers bring the kids along in a little stroller, then ask people for money to find shelter for the kid. That's coercive, since you are essentially saying you have to give money, or these kids will suffer.

"I always felt bad for her because she had a baby in the hot summer sun," says Debbie, an Ashland resident.

The other problem I have with them is that they are also on the government teat, getting $500 a month in food stamps.

My only hope is that the article will out these deadbeats and they will have to get actual jobs.

You've got to link to the article. The quotes are priceless.

Monday, January 09, 2006

I Love Rollerderby


Last night's episode was ok. The Hellcats came in last, last year, so they trained like maniacs, developed more as a team, had physical development and team cohesion; then they still lost to the Holy Rollers, who had none of the above. Draw your own life lessons.

The Rollergirls link below has a "generate your own Rollergirl name" feature. I entered Aunt B's and got "Tight Mixer".

I caught A&E's new series Rollergirls last night. I've been meaning to go to see the Atlanta RollerGirls for a while, but all my friends were too hung over, and then the season ended.

Rollerderby is like if the WWF and Burlesque had an illegitimate daughter. It's naughty without being dirty. It's one continuous catfight; always entertaining.

It's right up my white trash alley.

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