Shit, Goddamn, Velveeta is now making single serving sizes of their venerable shells and cheese. They cost a buck thirty-five, and instead of requiring you to mix powder like Easy Mac, come with a packet of cheese sauce. They are sooooo fucking good. Just the thing to nosh on at 5 AM before descending into Hell, AKA the bag room, for a fun-filled day of hurling luggage around.
Three Pittsburgh cops were recently killed in the line of duty, and I'm just sick of hearing about it!
Just because a cop got killed on the job does not make him a hero. It isn't a "tragedy" either. While it's certainly a shitty thing, cops aren't innocents. Cops are very well paid to do what they do, and the majority of their time, they aren't doing shit. Most cops go through their entire career without ever firing a round.
Let's be honest, the vast majority of police officers are dickheads. I'm a 25 year-old white guy with a clean description and newer car, and even I feel hassled by these pricks. Cops don't have the willpower or balls to take control as individuals, so they use a law enforcement career as some sore of gigantic bolster.
Cops write tickets to pay their salaries and partially finance the department's operations, not to keep you or the public safe. Cops don't care about you or me.
I guess what I'm trying to say has best been said already, so I'll drop the quote. In the words of the immortal O'shea Jackson, "Fuck da police!"
Forgot to mention a pretty kickin' rock show I attended the other evening after my pretty kickin' comedy show. I caught the end of The Cheats, a seminal PGH punk act, whom I enjoy quite a bit and the entire set by The River City Rebels, who I initially received poorly, but soon warmed up to. They played incredibly tight and basically impressed me, even if they're of the "Irish drinking song" punk ilk.
I used to totally hate punks, still keep my distance from them. Punk rock is inherently hypocritical in nature. Everyone has different definitions of what's punk, what isn't, what selling out is, what isn't, edge vs. drunk kids, skins, queers, etc... Just shut your fucking mouths, look towards the stage, and have a good time!
Had I been around and about town in the later seventies and early eighties I would most likely have been wearing leather pants instead of leather jackets, bracelets instead of tattoos, and a black or purple button up shirt instead of a wife beater. My hair would have been spectacular.
I may even make it out to Belvedere's this week. It has been too long since I sweated through my jeans. Too many goddamned hipsters there though.
Ben Kenny: "So what do you do?"
Douchebag Hipster Chick: "I'm an artist."
BK: "Uh huh... but how do you pay the rent and afford those laughable glasses?"
DHC: "Banquet waitress."
(BK stands silently. Drinks his High Life tall boy. Wants a flamethrower badly.)
END SCENE.
This show is cancelled while the entirety of ABC remains on the air. Proof that God is dead.
Beautiful weather today. Not really.
House drama continues. No mistakes on my part.
One of my favorite song quotes, especially because this is so purely pop. "And now you tell me that you're having my baby. I'll tell you that I'm happy if you want me to."
I think I'm going eat mashed potatoes for dinner. An entire box. Should be starchy, to say the least.
Been writing a lot lately. Feeling good about the new material.
Anal bleaching is the new obsession at work. We're a filthy lot. Seriously. I'm not much for it, but my coworkers take pictures of their bowel movements and text them to each other. It's mildly hilarious to see/hear people's reactions. I keep my poop private, although I'm still an occasional "proud papa" giving names to go along with descriptions. Ask me about "The Pentagon" sometime. I love my job.
I'm serious dude, it was just like that part in Wild Things!-BK
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