Friday, November 26, 2004

When the other shoe drops 

I've previously detailed the unwholesome odor resulting from spilt baby formula in one's footwear. Well, little did I know the ramifications would spiral further out into the realm of public embarrassment.

Travelling through airports with wife Lovely and daughter Colicky is a somewhat more involved operation than flying as a single business traveler. The stroller and infant seat complications alone are tricky, but if you combine those with some cheapness and procrastination (on my part) then you get the following scenario.

Background: Aside from the ruined loafers that smelt of death, I owned two different pairs of leather boatshoes. Unfortunately, each pair had developed a single hole in only one of the shoes. So, resourceful guy that I am, I decided to combine the two intact shoes from each similar (but not identical) pair so that I could form one, wearable, holeless pair. That is, I took the good right shoe from one pair and the good left from another and wore them both together even though they weren't a perfect match. Thrifty, huh? And I did this for weeks and no one was any the wiser.

Fast forward to Louis Armstrong Int'l Airport security checkpoint. After emptying pockets and putting the bags and stroller on the x-ray conveyor-- all while holding Colicky-- I was told to send my belt and shoes through too. Somehow I managed all that with one hand, and proceeded to walk through the metal detector carrying Colicky. No alarm bells rang, but the security person behind the x-ray monitor started yelling frantically. "We got one shiv! We got one shiv!"

What the hell is she screaming about, I thought. My mind scrambled for answers: Did I pack a crude prison knife? Did someone slip me one? Is there a Hindu artifact amongst my undies? What's happening?!

Nearby security personnel were gathering around the yeller's monitor.

"Come see! One shiv! Only one shiv!"

Interrogation room images were flashing through my mind, and I briefly considered fleeing down the terminal; stiff-arming cops with one arm, carrying Colicky like a football in the other. Then I figured out that one of my shoes had a metal support in the heel while the other was apparently "shiv-less". Every nearby security person had come to look at the monitor. Many pointed and laughed. I smiled weakly and tried to explain to the gathered personnel, "You see, I had two different shoes with holes, but two were ok, so I thought..." But that only seemed funnier to the crew.

Much less jovial was Lovely, who demanded a detailed explanation for the ruckus. While I tried my best, she just looked at me with a curious expression, as if I recently arrived from the planet Nerdus or something.

There's no grand lesson here. Just, whatever you do, don't let baby formula ferment in your loafers. It'll lead to trouble in River City.
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Tuesday, November 23, 2004

"Tornadic"... (rhymes with "panic") 

Some nasty squalls are combining to the west tonight and will bring some very unstable weather tomorrow morning. Time your travel accordingly, if you're planning to leave early.

Tornadoes in the dark are about the scariest thing I can think of (besides Anne Coulter in any light) especially in a town with a paucity of basements. Be safe.

Update: Many tornadoes swept through the area. Thankfully no one was seriously hurt.
Kos post here discussing support for LA runoff Dems Melancon and Blount.

Also, we really are a "big easy" here in Crescent City. I just heard this unbelievable statistic on Fox 8 News:

Total felony DWI convictions (third or fourth time) from 2000-2004:

Jefferson Parish: 500

Orleans Parish: 2

Overlooking felony DWI's on violaters with prior convictions has been business as usual for a long, long time-- probably forever-- so the blame is not just on the current administration or DA Eddie Jordan. For the record, they say (after being exposed) that they will act immediately to remedy the situation.

And then one of these studies is like a rancid cherry on top:
Three Louisiana metropolitan areas are among the 25 most dangerous in the country, according to a report released Monday by a company that specializes in state and city statistical reference books. New Orleans and its suburbs comprised the fifth-most dangerous metropolitan area in the country in terms of residents' exposure to violent crime, the report by Lawrence, Kan.-based Morgan Quitno Press said. The Bossier City-Shreveport area ranked 12th and the Lafayette area 14th.

Uggh. I'm gonna go enjoy a turkey tomorrow. Perhaps one deep fried in peanut oil.
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Monday, November 22, 2004

What if... 

...the same thoroughness, attention to detail, and overabundant force-strength lavished on Presidential security was brought to our troops fighting in Iraq?

This is a commander-in-chief who lies to the electorate about his debating "body armor", while unabashedly requesting prayers (+ receipt!) from soldiers who receive needed battlefield equipment via care packages from mom.

Two examples:

1) "About 15,000 Colombian security forces - backed by warplanes, helicopters, battleships and two submarines - will safeguard Bush's four-hour trip to discuss the nation's war on drugs. That is the same number of American troops deployed in the Fallujah offensive in Iraq." (Are they sure only two subs is sufficient?)

2) "The biggest security operation seen in Britain will be mounted when President Bush makes a state visit to stay with the Queen in November."
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As an amateur assassination buff, I had to download this heinously realistic simulation of JFK's murder in Dealey Plaza (just in time for the 41st anniversary!). There's a million different scenarios to recreate, all begin from the sniper's viewpoint in the famous School Book Depository in good ole Dallas. Oh, it's horrible. For example, you can fire as many times as you want, even at Jackie, and then zoom in to get an extreme close up of brain fragments. Or-- for the supremely twisted-- aim at the driver. If he's immobilized there are some scenarios where the black limo goes careening over the grass and then does a Dukes of Hazard air-jump off the plaza into the trainyard (dumping out the Kennedys and Connallys in mid-air, of course). You can also choose a "bullet's eye" viewpoint as fatal ammo perforates human organs (a la Three Kings). I swear, I haven't felt like such a degenerate since a friend put in the Bumfights DVD during a party, while everyone-- and I mean everyone-- eventually left the room in disgust while we laughed like kids. Here, there are no laughs, but background "ambient" noises break up the silence while you wait for the motorcade, including Oswald's(?) heavy breathing. Like I said: perverse as all hell.

Anyway, there's a $100k prize if you can exactly replicate Oswald's alleged three shots and accurately inflict the same wounds on JFK as in 1963. Points are subtracted if you fire too many times, or otherwise go off script. It's unclear whether, in the event of a tie, Arlen Specter will be recruited to break it.

To the "game's" credit, though, I must say it's a damn difficult simulation. I think the software is based on the simulation from last year's ABC special.

Ted Kennedy's spokesman calls the game "despicable."

No word yet on whether there will be an RFK assassination sequel. In that one, presumably, you get to squeeze off 13 rounds from an eight round clip. Maybe they'll have a hypnotic chant option for the ambient noise in that one. Who knows?

(H/T Radical Georgia Moderate)
Apologies to Ricky for the irreverent title.
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Please Please Please Do Not Go-o-o 

This about sums up the Saints game, which was blacked out locally. It appears Da Paper will use Benson's "high school kids" quote for their headline. Barring a miracle, Coach Haslett is a gone pecan.

The charade is over.

The Saints' dreams and hopes of making a late-season playoff run exploded in spectacular fashion during a 34-13 loss to the Denver Broncos on Sunday at the Superdome that was as shocking in its suddenness as it was in its thoroughness.

Mathematically, the Saints still are alive in the NFC playoff race.

Realistically, they're dead.

After one of the Saints' ugliest performances under Coach Jim Haslett, owner Tom Benson all but buried the demoralized club, issuing a pointed and unsolicited comment to reporters afterward.

"You can quote me on this," the normally media-wary owner said. "This is the worst performance I've seen by them in the 20 years I've owned them. They looked just like high school kids."

Actually the team's lackluster performance strengthened the owner's negotiating position at a critical juncture. Benson will have the city and state eating out of his hand, because they fear he'll take the Saints to Los Angeles.

Right now, I fear it too.

Well, surely the city's basketball team is in better straits. Let's check in: "The Hornets haven't won a regular-season game since April 14, and they have more than $20 million devoted to players on the injured list, including Baron Davis and his 24.6 points per game this season."

Ew. When do the Voodoo get started?

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Sunday, November 21, 2004

Guided by Manly Voices 

As we wait for the Pentagon to invest hundreds of billions in its own private "war internet" over the coming decades, Patriotboy provides us with an immediate, brilliant solution: simply combine new remote internet hunting technology with the fervent bloodlust of the 101st Fighting Keyboarders. The General envisions:

All we need to do is convince the Department of Defense to place remotely controlled guns in Iraqi hospitals.

Our readers would love it. They could log on and read a few posts about the imminent threat posed by Iran or France. Then they could scan a series of webcams to see if any of the hospital patients are breathing. Once they find a target, they need only put their Cheeto-stained index finger to the "delete" key, and BAM, another brown person bites the dust for the glory of Our Leader. We could also play an MP3 file of Onward Christian Soldiers or some Toby Keith song as they do it. That would be outstanding.

Its this sort of good old-fashioned ingenuity that makes me proud to be a white, heterosexual male American. The day the United States tires of useful inventions like this one is the day the country loses its soul. Go over and salute the General's brilliance.

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