Or Maybe A Jowl Tax

You know what we need? A poll tax.

If you go look that up on Wikipedia it's going to tell you that a poll tax is a tax applied per person. It'll also tell you that Americans generally call a tax that's required to vote a "poll tax".

Neither of these is what I'm referring to. I want a poll tax that taxes polling. Jebus, every frickin' day there's at least one or two new polls about who people plan to vote for in the upcoming election. There are polls about who won the debate. There are polls about who's better for the economy, who'll be better for change, who'll take a bigger dump. Who gives a flying f*ck?

The poll tax will be $1 for the first poll, doubling for every subsequnt poll. In three days we'll raise enough to pay for the financial system bailout.

And you'll be able to say it was paid for by the people with the most poll.

Cindy Gives Him Mr. Potato Head

Sometimes I spend an inordinate amount of time on something and afterward I look back and wonder "What the hell was I thinking?"

Today was one of those days.


By the way, the actual sweet potato fries are quite good.

These Aren't The Rotors You're Looking For

Recently, I went to get my brake pads replaced.

Sleazy car guy: We recommend resurfacing the rotors and replacing the brake fluid when you replace the pads.
me: Do the rotors need resurfacing?
SCG: We recommend it when you replace the pads.
me: Do they need resurfacing?
SCG then launched into some explanation about how the pads create a groove in the rust and the rotors get some kind of coating and who knows what. I can see he was sure this would do the trick.
me [already knowing I'm not getting the rotors resurfaced]: If I don't get them resurfaced, can I get that done later?

This is a psychological trick. He can't say no (unless he wants to lie). He either answer yes or avoid the question altogether (in which case I will just repeat it). He tells me I could do it later and I tell him to just change the pads and nothing else.

If you're going to sell me some unnecessary garbage you better try much harder than that.

Or have less appendages.

Maybe It's The Restrictor Plates We Installed On Our Brains

In a desperate attempt to be classified as a sport, NASCAR has instituted a random drug test policy for drivers and crew.

This might have been a good idea back in the Fred Flintstone days but now? I think they'd be better off drug testing the fans but then they'd have empty stands.

I Got The Scoop

New study finds that overweight kids have more headaches.

Adult obesity already has been tied to headaches, so helping kids get into the normal weight range could prevent years of pain and disability, Hershey says.

Study done by Hershey?!

Possible causes for this link:

• Other kids always yelling at them "Hey Fatty Fatty!"
• All that extra weight is stretching the skin across the top of their skulls.

But there is something that causes both headaches and obesity and so it is a likely culprit:
Ice cream!

If I Could Stop Thinking About It, I'd Be Sleeping

On my recent vacation I got a nice skullburn. It was so bad that one day I looked like a human love-meter that was pegged. Whatever I touched started to melt in my clutch. I'm too much.

Last week things started peeling. That much flesh hasn't fallen from such heights since 9/11. (Too soon?)

I had to do something so I tried moisturizer which seemed to work but only briefly. I wasn't about to bring moisturizer to work and rub it on my skull every 10-15 minutes. Plus, if I brought it in, I'd have to hide my tissues. I don't want to be one of those guys that have tissues and moisturizer on their desks. That is creepy.

It's about a week later and the peeling continues unabated (that's una-, not mastur-). And now I think the twice a day moisturizing might be making things worse. On top of that, it doesn't feel like theirs much skin covering my skull. How many layers do I have left? Pretty soon it'll be down to the bone and I'll look like I escaped from Body Worlds or something.

Chorus to a song I'm working on (to the tune of Lyin' Eyes):

You can eye my peeling hide
And it don't help to moisturize
I turned so red 'cause I'm so white
There ain't no way to defy my peeling hide

HTTP Error 417

I'm thinking about writing a short story. So far all I have is some character names: the protagonist, Harold Thomas Baggs; his bastard half-brother, John Thomas; and Harold's love interest, Anita Waxman.

The story will be in the action-adventure genre. Harry T. and Anita (who claims she can't stand Harry but actually has a velcro-like attachment to him) are searching for the mysterious Brazilian. The only thing that can get between them is John. Expect a lot of close shaves, smooth talking (and my razor sharp wit) as they slice their way through the forbidden jungle.

I'm trying to generate a little buzz so first I'll write a little snippet.

WHIVSIV

Had a very nice flight out to Vegas. I met up with my friend at the airport and then

flight home was very smooth. Just in time for the hurricane!