The City of Paducah is "oncet" - Paducah werd - again considering buying the Big Sleazy E because Budipher Singh, the new owner, refuses to cooperate with City, put any cash into the hotel, perform any renovations as promised, promote the convention center or provide the City with financial information.
Everybody's favorite stereotypical Indian gent has certainly made bigger fewls outta our local city government than the former owners of what I use to refer to as the American Eagle School of Law and Tire Center but have now more pleasantly began jingling to as the Pain Management Law School of Paducah and Marion. By the way, could the Indian guy look more like something out of a Looney Toones episode or what? I mean does the towel on his head actually have a ruby in it or am I making that part up because I'm damn sure there are belly dancers and magic carpets in the back ground of every picture if you look closely? The curly cues on the ends of the handlebars of his mustache couldn't be more choice if they were the toes of jester shoes.
Eitherway, as I was saying, those cats that ran the Law Barn and Tractor Depot managed to somehow shuck and jive their way into all that land, buildings and $150,000.00 in salaries per year without actually putting up their own money. If you thought that was more magical than that pill that will make both your weenie stiff AND give you the ability to throw a football through a tire, wait till you hear what Mr. Singh did. He bought a hotel that was sleazy, run down, allowed it to remain sleazy and get even more run down AND he makes our tired ass little city pay him a little stipend every month because his sleazy joint is connected to our city's convention center. I mean god fucking knows our City couldn't do without that square metal building in that strategic location with shitty parking on the wrong side of the floodwall. I can see why they pay him to a monthly fee, especially when you consider the outside entrance is adjancent to the classy neon sign of The Silver Saddle. As a further aside, do you think Dr. Kelley, psychiatrist, moved his office down there as sort of test to see how fucking crazy you are? Meaning if you made an appointment and actually showed up down there you are nuts and you need his help? I would have to think that's what he's getting at because, from what I understand, trolls, for the most part, don't have a lot of psychiatric problems or insurance.
To get back on point, the City pays his cheap ass like $20K a month. He probably steams the stamp off the envelope the check comes in, washes off the postmark and reuses it. They have no control over what he does with the money. They can't make him spend it on improvements or marketing the convention center. Not that there are going to be a lot of conventions that are going to want to come to a joint that is decorated like a 70's porno set. I mean maybe you could book like 70's porno star reunions there or something but I doubt that is going to be a very big market. Well, I guess the "size" of the market is going to depend on who shows up. Wink wink, nudge nudge.
What this fewl did is swoop in and buy the biggest cheap hotel in America for the simple fact of running it into the dirt because he knew Turkey Neck, a/k/a Mayor Gobbler, and The Shitty Commission would bow up and eventually step in, fall for his lack of improvements and buy the joint from him at a profit.
I'm not saying that someone doesn't need to wrangle the Sleazy E away from Sanjay Snuggle (because his towel looks so soft) but I just don't think our peeps in charge need to be the ones in charge of doing it because they've shown a great ineptitude at figgerin' out how to figger out this problem. In the werds of my wife, are you with me? I'm not sayin' we need to call in the Lone Ranger, George Washington or General Custer - well maybe that last one wasn't such a good example - but we need someone other than the peoples we've got or we'll end up getting curry in our cornhole again!
...I'm just sayin.....
Monday, March 10, 2008
Thursday, March 6, 2008
Throw a whole buch of shit out there and hope some of it sticks!
So, Dr. Merriwether's offer to by the American Eagle School of Law & Tire Center wasn't exercised because, even though he seemed to state he was exercizing it, he didn't exercise it. Then, out of nowhere - much like a Twinkie out of the dark - Dr. Manchicanti (correct spelling optional) swooped win with Tommy O and some as yet unnamed investors and purchased themselves a heavily indebteded school of law.
First thing on the agenda for the new owners? Accrediation? Nah. Get back some of the students you ran off with the mudslinging and the lawsuits? What fer? They bolted for fancy "accredited" lawschools and things called "jobs". Let'm go. Nope. Focus on a name change. According to the Republican Sun Always Rises, one potential name is something like the Alben Barkley School of Law. Not bad. It's an homage to our local big wig and it sounds a helluva a lot cooler than the actual American Justice School of Law. I've always thought that sounds like a show on A & E. Either Bill Curtis - host of the actual A & E show American Justice - should be the dean or the library should be named after him. Maybe he could be the voice on automated line you call and can never get a real person if you call out there to find out they still haven't been accredited. If you're going to be told you've wasted money on an education that will not let you take the bar exam in any state, at least it could come from an award winning journalist and television reporter.
Eitherwho, I think they should embrace the humor of the whole situation that has occurred until they are accredited. The Sally Struthers School of Law has a nice ring to it. Since Dr. Manchicanti is involved, the jingle is already in your head for "The Pain Management Law School of Paducah & Marion". If the ABA doesn't have a since of humor than who cares about that weenie accredidation? O.K., you do, but it would be fun to have some laughs in the process.
Werd on the street is them fewls can't even get student loan companies to lend ducketts to the peeps out there anymore. Have you ever heard of a student loan company not loaning a student money? Those fuckers will loan anyone money for anything because bankrupting that debt is harder than a teenage weenie at 6 a.m. Student Loan Xpress or Sally Mae will lend you dough to complete your master thesis at Barber's College entitled "Mullets: Were they all busines up front?" but they won't give you any money to further your education Tommy O style. Mmmmm. That should tell you all you need to know about the future of that joint. That would be like there not being a Waffle House at every exit in Tennessee. You get my point? They're everywhere for a fucking purpose people! Where was I? They is supposedly dropping tuition and loaning students money themselves via promissory notes until their alleged accredidation. I would make sure that my promise only applied if they got accredidited before I graduated.
What in the hell is a super delegate? Did this delegate get exposed to gamma rays and have the ability to bend shit with their mind? I get this idea of a polling station where you see all these normal people standing in line waiting to vote and then you see this one person mixed in wearing tights, a cape, boots and carrying like a paper, briefcase and a drinking coffee like it is no big deal. Nobody is freaking out though because its an election year and he's a super delegate and he's expected to be there.
The guy that created Dungeons and Dragons died the other day. I never played that game but I watched my galacticly intelligent cousin play it with his friends when I was a children. To know one's surprise this occurred in a basement. I always remember hearing the stories about how parents should keep their kids from playing the game because it was evil and it promoted devil worship or whatever but I simply thought it was "gay" - as was the saying of the times - or simply not cool. And by that I mean it required imigination and didn't have video graphics, chicks didn't dig it and, at the time I was exposed to it, I didn't dig chicks because, at 8, I merely believed in Transformers (The toys, not gender confused people), baseball and Nintendo. Thinking that a game involving cards, a board and dice made your kid evil takes more imagination than your evil kid ever had. That's a parent burying their inattentive head up their ass until their kid does something bad and then, when their cleaning up their room, blaiming it on the first weird thing they find. Dungeons and Dragons was craps for white nerds. That guy was a genius. He should be applauded and missed. He was a true innovator.
Toucan's has purty tasty fair. Eye dun tasted me the burger at lunch at the Yardbird Georgia for dinner. Boned up with onion rings with both. Service was the same cat on both angles. Nice guy. Oddly, lunch ambiance was lower than night time. At night, you almost need sunblock with a moderately high SPF due to the brightness of the lights. Price was fair. To be clear, service and food was good. It is strange to be in the Old Fungal Flower where I swilled so many a swill to now be sitting underneath plastic tropical vinery. You kind of feel like you're in Jimmy Buffett's outhouse. I do dig the joint though. I had deuce margaritas at dinner. Very tasty.
Well, it's almost 10:00 p.m. and I'm startin' to get scaret from all the snow that alleged to start fallin' hear shortly. I'll get back at ye. Palabra.
....I'm just sayin'......
First thing on the agenda for the new owners? Accrediation? Nah. Get back some of the students you ran off with the mudslinging and the lawsuits? What fer? They bolted for fancy "accredited" lawschools and things called "jobs". Let'm go. Nope. Focus on a name change. According to the Republican Sun Always Rises, one potential name is something like the Alben Barkley School of Law. Not bad. It's an homage to our local big wig and it sounds a helluva a lot cooler than the actual American Justice School of Law. I've always thought that sounds like a show on A & E. Either Bill Curtis - host of the actual A & E show American Justice - should be the dean or the library should be named after him. Maybe he could be the voice on automated line you call and can never get a real person if you call out there to find out they still haven't been accredited. If you're going to be told you've wasted money on an education that will not let you take the bar exam in any state, at least it could come from an award winning journalist and television reporter.
Eitherwho, I think they should embrace the humor of the whole situation that has occurred until they are accredited. The Sally Struthers School of Law has a nice ring to it. Since Dr. Manchicanti is involved, the jingle is already in your head for "The Pain Management Law School of Paducah & Marion". If the ABA doesn't have a since of humor than who cares about that weenie accredidation? O.K., you do, but it would be fun to have some laughs in the process.
Werd on the street is them fewls can't even get student loan companies to lend ducketts to the peeps out there anymore. Have you ever heard of a student loan company not loaning a student money? Those fuckers will loan anyone money for anything because bankrupting that debt is harder than a teenage weenie at 6 a.m. Student Loan Xpress or Sally Mae will lend you dough to complete your master thesis at Barber's College entitled "Mullets: Were they all busines up front?" but they won't give you any money to further your education Tommy O style. Mmmmm. That should tell you all you need to know about the future of that joint. That would be like there not being a Waffle House at every exit in Tennessee. You get my point? They're everywhere for a fucking purpose people! Where was I? They is supposedly dropping tuition and loaning students money themselves via promissory notes until their alleged accredidation. I would make sure that my promise only applied if they got accredidited before I graduated.
What in the hell is a super delegate? Did this delegate get exposed to gamma rays and have the ability to bend shit with their mind? I get this idea of a polling station where you see all these normal people standing in line waiting to vote and then you see this one person mixed in wearing tights, a cape, boots and carrying like a paper, briefcase and a drinking coffee like it is no big deal. Nobody is freaking out though because its an election year and he's a super delegate and he's expected to be there.
The guy that created Dungeons and Dragons died the other day. I never played that game but I watched my galacticly intelligent cousin play it with his friends when I was a children. To know one's surprise this occurred in a basement. I always remember hearing the stories about how parents should keep their kids from playing the game because it was evil and it promoted devil worship or whatever but I simply thought it was "gay" - as was the saying of the times - or simply not cool. And by that I mean it required imigination and didn't have video graphics, chicks didn't dig it and, at the time I was exposed to it, I didn't dig chicks because, at 8, I merely believed in Transformers (The toys, not gender confused people), baseball and Nintendo. Thinking that a game involving cards, a board and dice made your kid evil takes more imagination than your evil kid ever had. That's a parent burying their inattentive head up their ass until their kid does something bad and then, when their cleaning up their room, blaiming it on the first weird thing they find. Dungeons and Dragons was craps for white nerds. That guy was a genius. He should be applauded and missed. He was a true innovator.
Toucan's has purty tasty fair. Eye dun tasted me the burger at lunch at the Yardbird Georgia for dinner. Boned up with onion rings with both. Service was the same cat on both angles. Nice guy. Oddly, lunch ambiance was lower than night time. At night, you almost need sunblock with a moderately high SPF due to the brightness of the lights. Price was fair. To be clear, service and food was good. It is strange to be in the Old Fungal Flower where I swilled so many a swill to now be sitting underneath plastic tropical vinery. You kind of feel like you're in Jimmy Buffett's outhouse. I do dig the joint though. I had deuce margaritas at dinner. Very tasty.
Well, it's almost 10:00 p.m. and I'm startin' to get scaret from all the snow that alleged to start fallin' hear shortly. I'll get back at ye. Palabra.
....I'm just sayin'......
Sunday, February 24, 2008
IT'S OSCAR SUNDAY SUNDAY SUNDAY!
I'm not even really juiced over the Oscars, I just wanted to type out a "monster truck promotion event" themed line in my title. You don't often get to say the day of the week three times in one sentence and I highly recommend ingressing on that egress if you ever step in that stink. Even I don't know what that mint. Why do those motorcross and monster truck type people always scream the day of the week three times when they're telling you when and where they're going to hick it up at? I mean, I sometimes transpose a digit or two when writing down a phone number (or playing with dyslexic fingercuffs) but are people that are interested in that type of stuff so lacking in calendar skills that they have to have the day on which it occurs verbally seared into their brain like some kind of cattle brand? I mean for the love Jell-O, last I chequed (English spelling) there's only one Sunday on the calendar to choose from and it only happens once a week and, oddly enough, the day it happens on? You guessed it. It's called Sunday. I guess the trick isn't remembering where your hardhat with beerholders is, where your "America loves guns, trucks, beer and babes" t-shirt is, or where you saved up all your "xtree" nacho money, it's on what day do you need to get all this shit together.
Eitherway, back to the Oscars. I dew dig me some Jon Stewart. Saw him for free once when I was in college. The local cable access company in Lex Vegas had cancelled comedy central. Oh yeah, I went to college back in the Dark Ages of comedy before South Park, The Daily Show, and the show that funny black guy had and got all angried up over and quit. It was called the mid-1990's people. Freaky. Eitherwho, somehow, Mr. Stewart got brought to UK's campus and, if you signed a petition saying that you wanted comedy central back on local cable, you got to see his concert for free. Jeff Garland also performed. He's that big fat dude on Curb Your Enthusiasm. I don't watch that show, but I think Jeff Garland is funny and his stand up was tasty. Jon Stewart was on the cusp of his bigness at the time. He had just released a stand up special on HBO that was funny and he basically rehashed that act, but he was good. Garland did more local humor making fun of things he saw in Lex Vegas. They were both good and, apparently, enough signatures were finagled, because we got out comedy central back.
I could careless what in the hell anyone wears to the Oscars. If I were to go to the Oscars, I would wear a nice suit, but I think I'd have to show up have liquored up. How do you go to something like that without having some cocktails? All those big wigs, all those peoples who normally chase Brittney taking the day off to take pictures of you? That's a lot of pressure.
I always find the shows that dissect what the people where amazing. I mean, I don't think there is anything covered and analyzed more than Breaking Weather or a major football game. I am surprised the Oscars coverage doesn't employ somekind of Vera Wang Radar where Melissa Rivers breaks onto your screen in front of footage of certain star wearing a dress and then proceed to explain how a "Fashion front has moved in from the south and appears to be headed in a classy and elegant direction and, barring any encounters with a drunken Russell Crowe or pasta, we expect to see this continue throughout the evening." I expect to Ryan Seacrest with a telestrator explaining why Steven Speilberg's three step shimmy past Tom Hanks, who were both wearing fabulous numbers by Armani, will go down in Oscar lore as averting a sprained ankle that could have cost one of them an extra trip to the salad bar.
I have no clue from wherest this came. I just stepped back and let it flow. Werd.
I'm just sayin......
Eitherway, back to the Oscars. I dew dig me some Jon Stewart. Saw him for free once when I was in college. The local cable access company in Lex Vegas had cancelled comedy central. Oh yeah, I went to college back in the Dark Ages of comedy before South Park, The Daily Show, and the show that funny black guy had and got all angried up over and quit. It was called the mid-1990's people. Freaky. Eitherwho, somehow, Mr. Stewart got brought to UK's campus and, if you signed a petition saying that you wanted comedy central back on local cable, you got to see his concert for free. Jeff Garland also performed. He's that big fat dude on Curb Your Enthusiasm. I don't watch that show, but I think Jeff Garland is funny and his stand up was tasty. Jon Stewart was on the cusp of his bigness at the time. He had just released a stand up special on HBO that was funny and he basically rehashed that act, but he was good. Garland did more local humor making fun of things he saw in Lex Vegas. They were both good and, apparently, enough signatures were finagled, because we got out comedy central back.
I could careless what in the hell anyone wears to the Oscars. If I were to go to the Oscars, I would wear a nice suit, but I think I'd have to show up have liquored up. How do you go to something like that without having some cocktails? All those big wigs, all those peoples who normally chase Brittney taking the day off to take pictures of you? That's a lot of pressure.
I always find the shows that dissect what the people where amazing. I mean, I don't think there is anything covered and analyzed more than Breaking Weather or a major football game. I am surprised the Oscars coverage doesn't employ somekind of Vera Wang Radar where Melissa Rivers breaks onto your screen in front of footage of certain star wearing a dress and then proceed to explain how a "Fashion front has moved in from the south and appears to be headed in a classy and elegant direction and, barring any encounters with a drunken Russell Crowe or pasta, we expect to see this continue throughout the evening." I expect to Ryan Seacrest with a telestrator explaining why Steven Speilberg's three step shimmy past Tom Hanks, who were both wearing fabulous numbers by Armani, will go down in Oscar lore as averting a sprained ankle that could have cost one of them an extra trip to the salad bar.
I have no clue from wherest this came. I just stepped back and let it flow. Werd.
I'm just sayin......
Saturday, February 2, 2008
Let's sell some crack, kill some vampires and refuse to pay taxes!
WARNING! THIS POST CONTAINS MY ATTEMPT TO EXPLAIN STUFF I READ ABOUT TAXES AND THE TAX CODE AND ODDS ARE IT HAS MORE WONGS THAN A CHINESE PHONE BOOK. I HAVE NO UNDERSTANDING OF TAXES, HOW THEY WORK REALLY OR HOW THEY ARE FIGGERED. I MERELY PAY THEM AND TAKE ALL MY STUFF TO MY CPA AT THE END OF THE YEAR. AND NOW ON TO SOMETHING COMPLETELY RELATED......
In New Jack City, Wesley Snipes was a crack dealer of epic proportions who styled his hair like Tetris shapes. In the Blade Trilology he plays a superhero "type" character with teeth issues.(Any Sci-Fi nerds that I've offended with this description - I've never seen an entire Blade movie - need to take off their spock ears, wipe their nose and don't get in such a rush to leave their mom's basement because that is not the point of the wisdom I'm about to fumigate.). The teeth thing leads me to believe his character is either a vampire revolting against his own or, a vampire murderin' fewl who got really screwed on a set of crowns. For purposes of this little jaunt through the Topamax laced synapses of my gourd will call him Blade City.
Either way, Blade City himself, recently went on trial in Federal Court in Florida for conspiracy, tax fraud and failing to file his taxes. He asked for $11million in refunds and paid the IRS with fake checks, according to press reports. Apparently, Blade City paid taxes through the 90's until he met this one cat who founded this group that believes the government doesn't have the right to tax any income unless it is made outside the United States because of some obscure section in the tax code. This argument has been shot down more than Wil. E. Coyote flying an ACME plane over a Nerf no fly zone. Blade City's attorney's argued that he wasn't a crack dealer, vampire killer or tax cheat (ok, I added the first two) but just a poor sole who got bad tax advice. Asking for $11 million in refunds is not as much as bad tax advice as it is an attempt to steal money with a pencil. But, I will come back to that in a moment. In the vein of Barretta, Snoop Dogg, Ojay 1.0 and Micheal Jackson, it worked. Blade City was merely convicted of the misdemeanor counts of not filing his tax returns! For his two co-defendants - the non-tax payin' theorist and discredited CPA - not so much. They got rung up on all charges and one count of not being famous.
If you ask me, Blade City's lawyer's are superheros in real life. If I'd won that trial, I swear to Wal-Mart, I'd wear a freakin' cape. That is some of the nuttiest shit I've ever heard. I mean, you pay taxes during your whole life and then, suddenly, in 2000, you meat some nut who shows you a passage in the tax code that is more obscure than the answer to a Dennis Miller themed word jumble and you honestly, with no criminal intent, think to yourself, "Hey, I've been paying a whole bunch of money my whole life that I didn't have to. Everybody else pays and says I have to, but this guy, who has his own trailer in the desert surrounded by barb wire with guards and no running water and endless supply of potted meat says I don't have to pay taxes on money I made unless I made it outside the country." Yeah, right. And then, as if that isn't enough, you start to let a freakin' CPA who no longer is "C"'d (the guy had lost his license) do your taxes and you don't think, making millions of bucks and also requesting refunds of tons of cashola, that you're doing anything wrong.
Anytime I hear these stories of famous people being taken adavantage of it makes me sick. I don't make a ton of dough, but, I've got an accountant and, if he started telling me that I only had to pay taxes on money that I made while holding my left nut on the third Tuesday of the week, and I hadn't previously read about the "Left nut holding third Tuesday exemption" in the paper or seen it on the news, I would pick up my WD40 and run. Or, W-2. Whatever it is.
[I lose it for a while about two of Blade City's movies but, if you bear with me, I get back on track for a somewhat strong finish.]
The government should have also indicted Blade City for making White Men Can't Jump and Money Train. I would lessen the White Men Can't Jump charge to a misdemeanor because Rosie Perez showed her boobies, but what a stoopid freaking flick that was, eh? First of all, we all know the majority of honkeys can't jump. I am one. I live it on a daily basis. I remember the dreams of being able to dunk because I could touch the backboard in 6th grade. I remember thinking I was getting closer when I reached 6'2 in high school and could touch the support of the rim. Then it all simply stops. You can't jump any higher no matter how hard you try. You're either born with "airability" or ye ain't. It's that simple. I still remember the day I finally admitted to myself that I could not jump. And, like having your pubes tweezed, it still hurts. The honkey's inablity to verticulate, so to speak, is why the step ladders business is so profitable. Step ladders give you just enough reach without having to break out the full sized ladder while looking like a total wus and calling complete attention to the fact that anyone who could jump high enough to hurdle a pancake could get whatever it is you wanted without the need of such a crutch.
Where was I? White Men Can't Jump the Movie. Blade City should have to pay back the ticket or rental taxes to everyone who watched that turd. Boobies aside, Rosie Perez's character was annoying and her infatuation with Jeopardy was less cute than Rainman's. Her incoherent, high pitched hysterical Spanglish babbling in that movie was only good for warding off deer and peeling paint off walls. Woody's jumpshot looked as if he were a constipated octagenarian throwing a ball while being flung from his rocker. I just can't imagine how someone sold that flick to a studio on the premise of two dudes hustling people for money playing basketball at the beach while one of them's incoherent Spanish girlfriend practices for Jeopardy and they have a falling out at the end but the Spanish chick gets on Jeopardy. I guess rich Hollywood executive types do start drinking before lunch!
Cash ChooChoo a/k/a Moneytrain. Blade City and Woody apparently got past their screwing one another over in their basketball hustlin' days to become cops. Unbeknownkst to the rest of us, they're foster brothers. Woody has a gambling problem and owes a heavy -industry term- a lot of duckets. J-Lo is a new cop on the block (I couldn't decided whether to insert a joke that her ass was her beat - meaning that is the area she had to cover as a cop in the movie - or that her ass was her partner) that has the hots for Blade City even though Woody has one for her. Blade City and Woody know this train with all this $$$ comes through NYC at certain times. Woody finds out that Blade City knows his way around Jinny's block, if you know what I'm steppin' in, gets pissed, and decides to rob the train to pay off his debts. It all goes south, Blade City shows up to stop it with J-Lo and Woody essentially gets away without stealing the $$$ or being caught. I think Blade City even paid Woody's debt off for him. Probably with some of that $11 mil he got back in taxes.
What the hell is that all about? You make millions of dollars for a movie like that and then have the audacity to say you shouldn't have to pay taxes on it? We should have been paid to watch it! Does anyone else find it strange that a guy who made a movie called Moneytrain ended up crossways with the IRS?
An $11 Million dollar refund? Could you get one of those anticipation loans from H & R Block on that? I think if I made that much money I'd go to one of those Cashland Express places to have my taxes done. It would be worth it to walk in and sit down just to see the look on their faces. Maybe you could also ask for a title loan on your Lamborgini or Ferrari while you were there. Those joints ain't nuthin but legalized loan sharking. Eitherway, that would be some funny stuff. If you're getting an $11 million dollar refund, doesn't it almost seem like you shouldn't even be paying any taxes to begin with? I mean, if the government is giving you back $11 million couldn't you just save them the money by not paying anything? That would be a whole lot less paperwork to fill out.
Passenger 57? Isn't that a steak sauce? If I'm making a movie about a passenger on a plane, its going to be about a passenger in first class. Not because they're cooler or more interesting but because of the free alcohol and snacks.
On a local level, is Super Tax on Jackson Street also selling lemonade? Do they also file urine samples with your tax returns? Why in the hell would you paint your Super Tax business a psychedelic urine color? I understand the theory of trying to get everyone's attention that your business is there, but I'd bet nipples to nodules that 30% of people who come in are merely there to use the bathroom. It's like this big reminder on Jackson Street: "Super Tax: Do you have to pee?" My wife and I have been using it to potty train our son. We ask him if he has to pee and we show him a picture of the building and he tears out. Boys got better aim than me now. Thanks Super Tax!
I'm just sayin.....
In New Jack City, Wesley Snipes was a crack dealer of epic proportions who styled his hair like Tetris shapes. In the Blade Trilology he plays a superhero "type" character with teeth issues.(Any Sci-Fi nerds that I've offended with this description - I've never seen an entire Blade movie - need to take off their spock ears, wipe their nose and don't get in such a rush to leave their mom's basement because that is not the point of the wisdom I'm about to fumigate.). The teeth thing leads me to believe his character is either a vampire revolting against his own or, a vampire murderin' fewl who got really screwed on a set of crowns. For purposes of this little jaunt through the Topamax laced synapses of my gourd will call him Blade City.
Either way, Blade City himself, recently went on trial in Federal Court in Florida for conspiracy, tax fraud and failing to file his taxes. He asked for $11million in refunds and paid the IRS with fake checks, according to press reports. Apparently, Blade City paid taxes through the 90's until he met this one cat who founded this group that believes the government doesn't have the right to tax any income unless it is made outside the United States because of some obscure section in the tax code. This argument has been shot down more than Wil. E. Coyote flying an ACME plane over a Nerf no fly zone. Blade City's attorney's argued that he wasn't a crack dealer, vampire killer or tax cheat (ok, I added the first two) but just a poor sole who got bad tax advice. Asking for $11 million in refunds is not as much as bad tax advice as it is an attempt to steal money with a pencil. But, I will come back to that in a moment. In the vein of Barretta, Snoop Dogg, Ojay 1.0 and Micheal Jackson, it worked. Blade City was merely convicted of the misdemeanor counts of not filing his tax returns! For his two co-defendants - the non-tax payin' theorist and discredited CPA - not so much. They got rung up on all charges and one count of not being famous.
If you ask me, Blade City's lawyer's are superheros in real life. If I'd won that trial, I swear to Wal-Mart, I'd wear a freakin' cape. That is some of the nuttiest shit I've ever heard. I mean, you pay taxes during your whole life and then, suddenly, in 2000, you meat some nut who shows you a passage in the tax code that is more obscure than the answer to a Dennis Miller themed word jumble and you honestly, with no criminal intent, think to yourself, "Hey, I've been paying a whole bunch of money my whole life that I didn't have to. Everybody else pays and says I have to, but this guy, who has his own trailer in the desert surrounded by barb wire with guards and no running water and endless supply of potted meat says I don't have to pay taxes on money I made unless I made it outside the country." Yeah, right. And then, as if that isn't enough, you start to let a freakin' CPA who no longer is "C"'d (the guy had lost his license) do your taxes and you don't think, making millions of bucks and also requesting refunds of tons of cashola, that you're doing anything wrong.
Anytime I hear these stories of famous people being taken adavantage of it makes me sick. I don't make a ton of dough, but, I've got an accountant and, if he started telling me that I only had to pay taxes on money that I made while holding my left nut on the third Tuesday of the week, and I hadn't previously read about the "Left nut holding third Tuesday exemption" in the paper or seen it on the news, I would pick up my WD40 and run. Or, W-2. Whatever it is.
[I lose it for a while about two of Blade City's movies but, if you bear with me, I get back on track for a somewhat strong finish.]
The government should have also indicted Blade City for making White Men Can't Jump and Money Train. I would lessen the White Men Can't Jump charge to a misdemeanor because Rosie Perez showed her boobies, but what a stoopid freaking flick that was, eh? First of all, we all know the majority of honkeys can't jump. I am one. I live it on a daily basis. I remember the dreams of being able to dunk because I could touch the backboard in 6th grade. I remember thinking I was getting closer when I reached 6'2 in high school and could touch the support of the rim. Then it all simply stops. You can't jump any higher no matter how hard you try. You're either born with "airability" or ye ain't. It's that simple. I still remember the day I finally admitted to myself that I could not jump. And, like having your pubes tweezed, it still hurts. The honkey's inablity to verticulate, so to speak, is why the step ladders business is so profitable. Step ladders give you just enough reach without having to break out the full sized ladder while looking like a total wus and calling complete attention to the fact that anyone who could jump high enough to hurdle a pancake could get whatever it is you wanted without the need of such a crutch.
Where was I? White Men Can't Jump the Movie. Blade City should have to pay back the ticket or rental taxes to everyone who watched that turd. Boobies aside, Rosie Perez's character was annoying and her infatuation with Jeopardy was less cute than Rainman's. Her incoherent, high pitched hysterical Spanglish babbling in that movie was only good for warding off deer and peeling paint off walls. Woody's jumpshot looked as if he were a constipated octagenarian throwing a ball while being flung from his rocker. I just can't imagine how someone sold that flick to a studio on the premise of two dudes hustling people for money playing basketball at the beach while one of them's incoherent Spanish girlfriend practices for Jeopardy and they have a falling out at the end but the Spanish chick gets on Jeopardy. I guess rich Hollywood executive types do start drinking before lunch!
Cash ChooChoo a/k/a Moneytrain. Blade City and Woody apparently got past their screwing one another over in their basketball hustlin' days to become cops. Unbeknownkst to the rest of us, they're foster brothers. Woody has a gambling problem and owes a heavy -industry term- a lot of duckets. J-Lo is a new cop on the block (I couldn't decided whether to insert a joke that her ass was her beat - meaning that is the area she had to cover as a cop in the movie - or that her ass was her partner) that has the hots for Blade City even though Woody has one for her. Blade City and Woody know this train with all this $$$ comes through NYC at certain times. Woody finds out that Blade City knows his way around Jinny's block, if you know what I'm steppin' in, gets pissed, and decides to rob the train to pay off his debts. It all goes south, Blade City shows up to stop it with J-Lo and Woody essentially gets away without stealing the $$$ or being caught. I think Blade City even paid Woody's debt off for him. Probably with some of that $11 mil he got back in taxes.
What the hell is that all about? You make millions of dollars for a movie like that and then have the audacity to say you shouldn't have to pay taxes on it? We should have been paid to watch it! Does anyone else find it strange that a guy who made a movie called Moneytrain ended up crossways with the IRS?
An $11 Million dollar refund? Could you get one of those anticipation loans from H & R Block on that? I think if I made that much money I'd go to one of those Cashland Express places to have my taxes done. It would be worth it to walk in and sit down just to see the look on their faces. Maybe you could also ask for a title loan on your Lamborgini or Ferrari while you were there. Those joints ain't nuthin but legalized loan sharking. Eitherway, that would be some funny stuff. If you're getting an $11 million dollar refund, doesn't it almost seem like you shouldn't even be paying any taxes to begin with? I mean, if the government is giving you back $11 million couldn't you just save them the money by not paying anything? That would be a whole lot less paperwork to fill out.
Passenger 57? Isn't that a steak sauce? If I'm making a movie about a passenger on a plane, its going to be about a passenger in first class. Not because they're cooler or more interesting but because of the free alcohol and snacks.
On a local level, is Super Tax on Jackson Street also selling lemonade? Do they also file urine samples with your tax returns? Why in the hell would you paint your Super Tax business a psychedelic urine color? I understand the theory of trying to get everyone's attention that your business is there, but I'd bet nipples to nodules that 30% of people who come in are merely there to use the bathroom. It's like this big reminder on Jackson Street: "Super Tax: Do you have to pee?" My wife and I have been using it to potty train our son. We ask him if he has to pee and we show him a picture of the building and he tears out. Boys got better aim than me now. Thanks Super Tax!
I'm just sayin.....
Thursday, January 31, 2008
WPSD TV's tryin' to scare the sleet outta me!
If McCain wins, will Matlock be appointed Attorney General?
Would WPSD fear mongerin' winter weather reports get even higher ratings if Jennifer Rukavina simplified things by simply going by J-Ru?
Speaking of WPSD's fear mongerin' winter weather reportin', has snow ever killed anyone in this viewing area? Why do they constantly beat us over the head with the brand name of their radar? As if I know weather or not there is a brand out there better than Doppler. Do you gauge weather or not you believe the veracity of their report based on the brand name of the radar they used to figger it out? "Well, I was gonna cancel that trip to Louisville cause I heard we was sposetuh get 8 inches of snow, but then I saw where that damned old meateeorolgoist that done figgered that up used a Cuisinart, and I said, pack yer bags ma, we's a goin'."
Is there any other profession than meterologist where you can be wrong so often and it not matter? I mean, do you ever hear of these guys losing their jobs? Who gives a damn if you call for snow and you only get freezing rain? Are you a hack if you bet the farm on hail and it turned out to be sleet? I mean, the roads are still slick either way, so how they got that way really doesn't matter in the grand scheme of thangs. All that matters is, immediately after having the absolute buh-Jesus scared out of you by J-Ru and her visions of a frosty ice and snow covered death, you run to your local super market and buy all the goddamn bread and milk that you can get your hands on.
I'm just sayin.......
Would WPSD fear mongerin' winter weather reports get even higher ratings if Jennifer Rukavina simplified things by simply going by J-Ru?
Speaking of WPSD's fear mongerin' winter weather reportin', has snow ever killed anyone in this viewing area? Why do they constantly beat us over the head with the brand name of their radar? As if I know weather or not there is a brand out there better than Doppler. Do you gauge weather or not you believe the veracity of their report based on the brand name of the radar they used to figger it out? "Well, I was gonna cancel that trip to Louisville cause I heard we was sposetuh get 8 inches of snow, but then I saw where that damned old meateeorolgoist that done figgered that up used a Cuisinart, and I said, pack yer bags ma, we's a goin'."
Is there any other profession than meterologist where you can be wrong so often and it not matter? I mean, do you ever hear of these guys losing their jobs? Who gives a damn if you call for snow and you only get freezing rain? Are you a hack if you bet the farm on hail and it turned out to be sleet? I mean, the roads are still slick either way, so how they got that way really doesn't matter in the grand scheme of thangs. All that matters is, immediately after having the absolute buh-Jesus scared out of you by J-Ru and her visions of a frosty ice and snow covered death, you run to your local super market and buy all the goddamn bread and milk that you can get your hands on.
I'm just sayin.......
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Geezers Unite: Vote McCain!
Like a blue-hair still standing in line at 5:00 p.m., old, pissed-off and crotchety is apparently the way the political wind is a blowin' if yesterdee's pole results were any indication. John McCain's angry ass won the Florida primary and is now the front runner to get the Republican nomination. I guess Methusuala was too conservative to run? Strom Thurmond still too dead to run one more time?
Rudy Guliani - who may or may not be Mr. Bowler Hat from Meet The Robinsons - finally turned in his last can of Daper Dan hair cream and lisped himself a speech that couldn't have been more concession in nature if he'd been simultaneously floggin' hotdogs and nachos. He officially threw in his American Flag designed towel today.
John Edwards decided he was going to take his good looks and sex it up elsewhere. Quite frankly, the level of ass on this campaign was well below his standards and he'd had enough. Losing to other politicians is one thing, but losing to other uglier politicians is another unbearable thing all together. I mean, Obama ain't ugly but he couldn't charm the panties off a nun like my boy J.E. Admittedly, Hillary does give in to that guy fantasy thing of letting her man be with other women, but, short of that, a fifth of grain alcohol and your favorite mantab (Viagra, Cialis, Levitra) ain't much happenin' in the Marvin' Gaye department if you know what I'm layin'.
NBC announced this week that Law & Order would be back next season but the Fred Thompson campaign was being cancelled for low ratings. Apparently, voters found the plot line of a real-life attorney who became a real-life actor who played the president in movies who ran for president in real life unbelieveable.
If Ron Paul were any more write I think he'd get .5% of the vote which is 50% more then he's getting now and I'm a freaking liberal democrat! Oh yeah, I said it! And while I'm at it, vote Eric Youngblood for Paducah City Commission in '08!
Mitt Romney. That's like the name of a Disney movie about a poor kid's baseball glove that save's the big game in the World Series isn't it? No, wait a minit, it's the name of the mainstream religious guy who's worked his ass off for everything he's ever gotten and is just like the rest of us working slobs and knows where we are coming from, right? Wrong guy? What? Are you sure? He's that galactic millionaire Mormom guy straight from the Tabernacle who was governor of Massachusetts and has changed his positions on the issues so much that some people call him the Porn Star of Politics? I could care less about the Mormon thing. If he wants to drink salt water, sing with a choir, wear a suit and ride a bike I could care less. That does not bother me. I just can't dig the whole complete flip flopping on the issues. For abortion one year, against it the next. It's not a tax exemption you get biannually in a divorce settlement. You either believe in it or you don't. It's your opinion. Changing it because you're going to run for President is weak.
Obama. It's almost like you were surprised as you were about to say the name of a certain Southern state. Seems like an allright guy to me. The general knock on him seems to be he doesn't have enough experience. All those movies Reagan was in were the right amount of experience for voters in the 80's, but that didn't work for Fred Thompson in 08'. Weird. Point is, experience doesn't matter. Do the people smell what you're steppin in? If the answer is yes, then you two can be El Presidente. Obviously, the 800 pound bean pie in the room is the fact that Obama is black. That is the true question. Can a majority of American's vote for a black man for president? We will never have a better Ebony v. Ivory election than if it is Obama v. McCain.
Then you've got you're Hillary. You either love her or hate her. With Wild Bill, you either loved him or hated him as president, but it seems as though everyone loved him as a person because he is charismatic beyond belief and fun loving by all accounts. With Hillary, its a love or hate type feeling with her personally. Of the people I encounter its 50/50. Interestingly enough, much like my fear of mayonnaise, guacamole, sour cream and cream cheese, most people cannot articulate a rationale basis for their hatred of Hillary. If you ever ask someone why they hate her, notice how they'll say, "Oh, I hate her because she, we'll Hillary, well, she..., Bill was sleeping with all those women and that just was not right and .......", they trail off. Or they'll come up with health care. OK people. She had a dumb idea. So what. I rolled my jeans up for years. Should people not hire me? They either want to throw that one big debacle at her or attribute Bill's wandering penis to her. My theory is this: If she and Bill have some agreement that he can dork every other chic they meat, that's they're gig. I don't care. My recollection of the Clinton years was that they were purty sweet. The economy was good. People were happier. The stock market was up. We weren't on the verge of a recession. Ass was less than a buck a barrel. It was fabulous!
I'm just sayin'.......
Rudy Guliani - who may or may not be Mr. Bowler Hat from Meet The Robinsons - finally turned in his last can of Daper Dan hair cream and lisped himself a speech that couldn't have been more concession in nature if he'd been simultaneously floggin' hotdogs and nachos. He officially threw in his American Flag designed towel today.
John Edwards decided he was going to take his good looks and sex it up elsewhere. Quite frankly, the level of ass on this campaign was well below his standards and he'd had enough. Losing to other politicians is one thing, but losing to other uglier politicians is another unbearable thing all together. I mean, Obama ain't ugly but he couldn't charm the panties off a nun like my boy J.E. Admittedly, Hillary does give in to that guy fantasy thing of letting her man be with other women, but, short of that, a fifth of grain alcohol and your favorite mantab (Viagra, Cialis, Levitra) ain't much happenin' in the Marvin' Gaye department if you know what I'm layin'.
NBC announced this week that Law & Order would be back next season but the Fred Thompson campaign was being cancelled for low ratings. Apparently, voters found the plot line of a real-life attorney who became a real-life actor who played the president in movies who ran for president in real life unbelieveable.
If Ron Paul were any more write I think he'd get .5% of the vote which is 50% more then he's getting now and I'm a freaking liberal democrat! Oh yeah, I said it! And while I'm at it, vote Eric Youngblood for Paducah City Commission in '08!
Mitt Romney. That's like the name of a Disney movie about a poor kid's baseball glove that save's the big game in the World Series isn't it? No, wait a minit, it's the name of the mainstream religious guy who's worked his ass off for everything he's ever gotten and is just like the rest of us working slobs and knows where we are coming from, right? Wrong guy? What? Are you sure? He's that galactic millionaire Mormom guy straight from the Tabernacle who was governor of Massachusetts and has changed his positions on the issues so much that some people call him the Porn Star of Politics? I could care less about the Mormon thing. If he wants to drink salt water, sing with a choir, wear a suit and ride a bike I could care less. That does not bother me. I just can't dig the whole complete flip flopping on the issues. For abortion one year, against it the next. It's not a tax exemption you get biannually in a divorce settlement. You either believe in it or you don't. It's your opinion. Changing it because you're going to run for President is weak.
Obama. It's almost like you were surprised as you were about to say the name of a certain Southern state. Seems like an allright guy to me. The general knock on him seems to be he doesn't have enough experience. All those movies Reagan was in were the right amount of experience for voters in the 80's, but that didn't work for Fred Thompson in 08'. Weird. Point is, experience doesn't matter. Do the people smell what you're steppin in? If the answer is yes, then you two can be El Presidente. Obviously, the 800 pound bean pie in the room is the fact that Obama is black. That is the true question. Can a majority of American's vote for a black man for president? We will never have a better Ebony v. Ivory election than if it is Obama v. McCain.
Then you've got you're Hillary. You either love her or hate her. With Wild Bill, you either loved him or hated him as president, but it seems as though everyone loved him as a person because he is charismatic beyond belief and fun loving by all accounts. With Hillary, its a love or hate type feeling with her personally. Of the people I encounter its 50/50. Interestingly enough, much like my fear of mayonnaise, guacamole, sour cream and cream cheese, most people cannot articulate a rationale basis for their hatred of Hillary. If you ever ask someone why they hate her, notice how they'll say, "Oh, I hate her because she, we'll Hillary, well, she..., Bill was sleeping with all those women and that just was not right and .......", they trail off. Or they'll come up with health care. OK people. She had a dumb idea. So what. I rolled my jeans up for years. Should people not hire me? They either want to throw that one big debacle at her or attribute Bill's wandering penis to her. My theory is this: If she and Bill have some agreement that he can dork every other chic they meat, that's they're gig. I don't care. My recollection of the Clinton years was that they were purty sweet. The economy was good. People were happier. The stock market was up. We weren't on the verge of a recession. Ass was less than a buck a barrel. It was fabulous!
I'm just sayin'.......
Saturday, January 26, 2008
I hope he ain't lyin' bout the dyin'!
Recently, a shriveled-up and be-speckled old coot in Illinois has started to share his memories of the late 70's and 80's with the police. While you can normally get away from a geezer druing story time by offering up a refill of prune juice, asking "Is it time to take your pills?," or accusing them of farting, the police are'nt employing any of these tried and true methods. They are intersted in this dude because he was apparently rather adept a killing folks and getting away with it. So much so in fact, he even qualifies as one of them thar cereal killers. I don't know if he passed a test, has some kind of membership card with "frequency" points or what, but the local rag has labled him as such so I'm going to make an ass out of ewe and me by figgerin' they knowed the legality on the use of such a term.
In either event, The Frosted Flaker has recently admitted to killing someone in our fair city during the Disco Era. There was no cause for pause originally because (a) 1979 happened; (b) a person was murdered hear that year and (c) the murderer got away. CASE SOLVED! There now is pausing for the causing because Honey Blood & Guts (as opposed to Honey Bunches of Oats or whatever it is) owned up to a killin' in the first year of I Love the 80's that has turned out to be more fake than Pamela Anderson's last (a) set of boobs or (b) marriage (That's something new I decided to try. A little interactive reader humor. You choose the punchline that you find funniest. It's a little way that I can give back to you. Tear.).
Now, I'm not tryin to pee in anyone's Wheaties. I don't know if The Sugar Smacks Slasher really killed that poor Paducah woman or not. The officer involved is, in my humble Smore's cereal prefering opinion, a good cop. I just find it interesting when any law dawgs jump up to defend the credibility of a cereal killer immediately upon it being called into question. Clearly, you have to believe the one guy that GAVE you ALL the EVIDENCE that you have. I mean, if the guy that GAVE you all the EVIDENCE is LYING, then what kind of evidence do you have? It's almost as if they're saying, "How can you not believe this guy, he's a serial killer?"
None of this will amount to a hill of Cheerios because the Special K Killer will jump at the chance to plead guilty and get some more publicity out of all this. I just hope he really did it and he didn't have some other way to come up with enough details to fake his frosted confession. Like say, I don't know, by watching an espisode of Maury Povich or something. Because the family of the poor woman who was killed deserves to know who killed her. I hope this asshole did it for their sake and, if that is the case, that he gets an extra turn on the hell rotissierrie spit for it.
I'm just sayin.......
In either event, The Frosted Flaker has recently admitted to killing someone in our fair city during the Disco Era. There was no cause for pause originally because (a) 1979 happened; (b) a person was murdered hear that year and (c) the murderer got away. CASE SOLVED! There now is pausing for the causing because Honey Blood & Guts (as opposed to Honey Bunches of Oats or whatever it is) owned up to a killin' in the first year of I Love the 80's that has turned out to be more fake than Pamela Anderson's last (a) set of boobs or (b) marriage (That's something new I decided to try. A little interactive reader humor. You choose the punchline that you find funniest. It's a little way that I can give back to you. Tear.).
Now, I'm not tryin to pee in anyone's Wheaties. I don't know if The Sugar Smacks Slasher really killed that poor Paducah woman or not. The officer involved is, in my humble Smore's cereal prefering opinion, a good cop. I just find it interesting when any law dawgs jump up to defend the credibility of a cereal killer immediately upon it being called into question. Clearly, you have to believe the one guy that GAVE you ALL the EVIDENCE that you have. I mean, if the guy that GAVE you all the EVIDENCE is LYING, then what kind of evidence do you have? It's almost as if they're saying, "How can you not believe this guy, he's a serial killer?"
None of this will amount to a hill of Cheerios because the Special K Killer will jump at the chance to plead guilty and get some more publicity out of all this. I just hope he really did it and he didn't have some other way to come up with enough details to fake his frosted confession. Like say, I don't know, by watching an espisode of Maury Povich or something. Because the family of the poor woman who was killed deserves to know who killed her. I hope this asshole did it for their sake and, if that is the case, that he gets an extra turn on the hell rotissierrie spit for it.
I'm just sayin.......
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