Opposite Day

Somedays this feels more like a repository for dumb internet videos than a fo' sho' blog but I can live with that. Everyone knows that retarded videos are the cold fusion that drives the internets. So here's this groovy site with videos gigawatts aplenty. I could try to explain it but it's actually much funnier if you don't see the punchline coming. We must bow our heads to Pork, who unconvered this treasure.







Jackhole Pick O' The Litter

Packed With Fiber

I started a new diet this week. If all goes well I'm going to put all my ideas into a book and sell it for ridiculous amounts of money to all the fat fucks out there that need a leg up on not being a fat fuck. I am calling it the, "Don't Eat So Goddamn Much Initiative." It is related, philosophically, to the "Put the Fucking Twinkie Down" diet. It came to me the other day in a fast food joint which remain nameless. I had ordered some manner of 'combo' meal. While waiting on the food people to finish my fries, a guy came up behind me and they took his order. The man was older than me, he was taller than me, and very likely outweighed. Then something weird happened. He ordered a small chili and a diet soda. That was all. It all came crashing down on me at once. The gravity of just how much we overeat because resturants make us think we need 2 cheeseburgers, a rowboat of fries, and a bucket of tasty beverage. So I figured even if I don't always eat things that are spectacularly good for me, I can ease the damage by eating less of it at least. I'll let you know how the "diet" goes.

Observations:

We have company coming over, and as Zero Hour nears all three of the cats have gone and taken extra smelly dumps in the litter box. They're just doing their part to make everyone feel welcome.

The Three Mothers

As "The Italian Job" taught us all, there are three 'mothers' you should never mess with (in no specific order): Mother Nature, Motherfucking Ukranians, and Mothers-in-law. The in-laws are coming over for dinner tommorrow night. We're busy buying the few last minute things for dinner and picking up the place (it had undergone a more strenous doucheing last weekend). All that's left is for me to make sure there's a stack of gay porn in the bathroom and the KY is strategically placed between the salt and pepper shakers.

Well, where do you keep it!?

Eating Is Hard To Do,

when half your fucking face is numb. Fucking dentist.

I suspect that when the bubble-gum flavored anesthesia* wears off. I'll be in horrible horrible pain because I've spent the last hour masticating the inside of my cheek in a way that is probably best described as zealous.

* - it should be noted that "Bubble Gum Flavored Anesthesia" will be the title of my fourth album.

Cereal Killa

Every so often my lovely bride and I endeavor to purchase breakfast food even though only on half of our union is awake during breakfast hours. Usually the breakfast food of choice is some manner of cold cereal. A lot of nutrtion can be packed into a bowl of various nuts, grains, and Chocolate Frosted Sugar Bombs™. Generally we opt for cereals of "Pebble" persuasion. While this is healthy in theory, in practice it is not so. The major failing is our propensity to aquire breakfast that tastes like cake. I will speak only for myself on this matter but I can assure you I am powerless, unmanned even, in the face of overwhelming deliciousity.

The long and the short of it is this: yesterday two boxes of our favorite Pebbly breakfast staple were aquired and by 11pm, one them was gone. By 'gone', I do not mean it slipped out an open door as I was taking out the trash. More like we declared Sunday evening to be celebrated as "Inhale Several Helpings of Cartoon Character Endorsed Food In Lieu of a Proper Dinner Day." Is it really so strange that we ended up together?

Also, this has incarcerated my mind. Thanks, again, to the aforementioned lovely bride.


-Kroy has gone offline

Bork Bork Bork

I have a new favorite show. It is called Robot Chicken. This should not be too surprising as a lot of the people who work on Family Guy also work on Robot Chicken. This is why is it my new favorite show:


and also this:


and of course:

Handle With Care

The following video clip is toxically adorable. Seriously, this is so cute it might just kill you. Please click responsibly.

Ma'am, Your Fetish is Showing

Just a warning, this post may not be safe for work. Though... I'm not sure, it might be. That's kind of what it's about. Also, this is, admittedly, my most fucked up post yet. You are warned.

This is something that I started thinking about roughly a month ago. It's be bugging me ever since.

I was browsing Google videos as I am wont to do on occasion. Now, I was looking for this guy. Stuart Hamm, a ridiculously talented bassist. Eventually I found what I was looking for but on the way I came across a few things that really shook me to my core. Ok, ready? Here you go.

Now, as you might have guessed, the way Google is indexed. One video leads into another and another. And yet another. And so on. Now if you dig a little deeper, which - by this point - I had no choice but to, you find a full website peddling these things, get this, for MONEY. WHAT THE FUCK?

So, apparently there's an entire (paying) subculture that is into these videos of (mostly) attractive people tickling each other. Now here's my question. Does this qualify as pornography? Dictionary dot com defines porno as:

1. Sexually explicit pictures, writing, or other material whose primary purpose is to cause sexual arousal.
2. The presentation or production of this material.

So... I'm assuming people don't pay 8 bucks over the internet for 10 minutes of video footage because they just like to watch cute girls get a good chuckle. So some folks out there are getting these vids so they can spend some time with the purple-headed custard chucker. So by definition it counts as pornography.

But...

The videos include no nudity, no sex, and no physical contact other than the tickling. Does it still count? This like life's greatest mystery. It keeps me up at night. I didn't say I had an answer. I just said it's bugging me. All I know for sure is that this world is one seriously fucked up place.


p.s. Just in case you were wondering. This is what you get when you Google "Euphemisms for Masturbation."

My New Name Is Wajimba Honkeh

It's good to be home. I'd like to thank you all for being so patient, and now that there's pretty much no chance of anyone reading this ever again I'd like to get back to posting.

I realize it's been a month since my last post but I just want you to know what's been going on. I decided to go on a last minute Aboriginal Walkabout. It was a time of great spiritual soul searching and redefinement. I would regale you with pictures and tales but I spent most of the trip high on exotic toads and a wallaby ate my camera. So... yeah. That's totally where I've been. But just know that now my posts will have much more substance and less fart jokes. Excepting in cases where fart jokes equal substance.

You Know What Time It Is

It's time for the Low-brow/High-brow links of the day. Where I hand out links that can appeal to everyone from the editor of the The New Yorker to the President of the United States.

High Brow Link of the Day: Jackson Pollack emulator.

Who's Jackson Pollack you say? Well lemme tell ya... you know what, maybe you should just check out link #2.

Low Brow Link of the Day: Hitler Cats!

Both links stolened from Her Dooceness. End Transmission.

Jackhole Concert Warp-up

OK, I would have posted sooner but my brain has been recompiling since the MC Frontalot concert a couple of weeks ago. Also, I'm a lazy piece of shit.

The concert was unconditionally superb. It was a bit of a haul from Detoilet to Kalamzoo but not something I wouldn't do again in a heart beat... on a work night... before a big presentation... on which rode a major promotion. This was the tour's last stop so the last chance, before PAX, to see the Front bust rhymes in living color. I've been listening to the Front for several years now. I was first enamored of him when I heard "Braggadogio" and the proverbial deal was cliched when I mine ears did hear "Yellow Lasers." Any rapper who can combine so many Star Wars cliches and golden showers is worthy of my praise. In thanks to the MC for such a stellar show we purchased a number of items and politely asked him to write his name on one such item, which he graciously obliged.

The concert is too far gone for me to remember the set in total but I can at least remember the show highlights: "Crime Spree" was most excellently rendered. The aforementioned "Braggadogio" was part of the all-too-short encore set. If my old man memory serves its function he opened with "Indier Than Thou". Definitely a high point in the evening was the Roll-A-Song in which the crowd cheered for their choice between two songs and the losing song had to make a Saving Throw. Very clever indeed. The bar itself was kindof a hole in the wall that appeared to be more accustomed to hard rock and hip hop acts. I'm sure they were all thrilled with the crowd that evening. Unfortunately the show was sparsely attended. I didn't do a full head count, but the fact that I could have gives you some idea as to how few people were there. It was on a Wednesday night and probably close to finals for a lot of the college students in town. Not that any of that is an excuse, if they really cared they'd have been there.

So in conclusion, I'm very much looking forward to seeing Front on his next concertizing endeavor. Next on the list is mc chris.

-Kroy has gone offline


me here talk good?

I'm wishing I could talk about this further with you but I can't...

Me = Going to see MC Frontalot tonight. You = Jealous. Concert wrap up report later.

This is a Public Service Announcement:

For all you new, soon-to-be, or prospective brides out there. Don't leave the duty of writing thank you cards in the hands of your new husband:

"Thank you dearly for the gift of the hand towels. Never again will the evils of over rambunctious moisture rear its ugly head in our lavatory. We owe you much."

"You people are like the British Royals with your intermarrying. What's up with that?"

"Thanks for coming to our reception... Jason. Where were the rest of you? Oh right, there was some other thing happening in some other place. Well, we totally understand. It's fine that you love those people more than us."

Consider yourself warned.

The Carnivore's Trek thru Charleston

While eating our way through Charleston, SC, we got a chance to savor some of the finest foods with a face known to this island Earth. Observe:

Cows.


Chickens. Lots of chickens.


Crab.


Shrimp.


Salmon.


Flounder.


Lobster.


Lamb.


Alligator.


Baby.


To quote a famous sage, "Why do we eat meat? Because meat tastes like Murder and murder tastes pretty fuckin' good."


-Kroy has gone offline


boy, lemme tell ya what

Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jig

Though it's unclear as to the origins of the above cantrip, it was always something my mother would intone as we pulled into the driveway at the end of all major family outings. It seems right.

To Rebecca on Our Wedding Day

Today we marry. It's hard to believe that we've been dating for a year and half. Time is strange. On the one hand it feels like we just met a few weeks ago. On the other, it feels as though I've known you all my life. I think that's one of the things that has always amazed me (and continues to do so). It was almost as if there was no 'getting to know you' phase of our relationship. The information exchange that happened was largely a formality, something that people do when they meet a new person, but not strictly necessary in our case. Whenever you would tell me you liked a certain food or a certain band it was more confirming what I already suspected than discovering new things about you. Wierd huh.

Sometimes we say things to each other like, "you're the best thing that's ever happened to me." In fact we do so to a degree that through frequency it starts to lose its potency. Let me just say, for the record that it's as true for me as it was the first time I said it. You are, unconditionally, the sweetest, most forgiving, most decent person I have ever met. I count myself lucky beyond measure that I was even able to meet you. To know that I get to spend my life with you is more than my tiny mind can process.

It was odd preparing for this day, in so many ways I've considered us "married" since before I even moved to Michigan. Before we ever even brought it up in discussion, I already knew that I had found something remarkable and had best play my cards right. I knew from the start that I was the lucky one. So much so, that when we finally did get engaged that it hardly felt like news (to such a degree that I neglected to inform one of my closest friends, sorry Jami). But, by definition, news is 'new', and this wasn't new. This was something I had known for a long time. Something that feels, even now, like it was written and decided well before we ever even knew each other's names. I've never been much of a disciple to Destiny or Fate but the events of the past few months have made a fairly strong case for it.

In addition to being all the things I mentioned above, you are good for me. If I hadn't met you, I'm certain beyond doubt that I'd still be in Boston working at a dead end temp position with nothing musical going for or around me. I'd also be hating every second of it. I most certainly would not be teaching music. You have given me a gift I had pretty much lost somewhere, a confidence in my abilities as a musician. As if all the other things you've done and do for me weren't enough, I could never repay that in a thousand lives of fervant toil. Thank you.

So today we make known to the world, the federal government, and to our God the thing that I've known for a very long time, perhaps longer than I even realize. You are my wife.
Love always,

Kroy


I will write you a song

For Your Convenience

I have aquired and implemented a new invention I am thinking of calling Electronic Mail whereby you may send Hate mail, pipebombs, boiled rabbits, and other festive gifts via the World Wide Web. I could have just put a mailto: link in there but that only work if you have an email program configured to launch when you click one of those links. And who does that? Everybody uses webmail. I also could have written it out all normal like but I don't want email harvesters(some of my best readers) to archive my email address and gum up my mailbox, thereby slowing the delivery of my pipebombs and boiled rabbits. If I need cheap Viagra, I know a guy. Also I came up with a snazzy and adorable name for the Kitty Profiles.

edit: Actually I just found a cool idea about how to make it look like a regular link but still thwarting the robots. Either way, it'll have to wait until I'm home.

Going to the Chapel, and We're Gonna, et cetera

So this week I'll have a much better excuse for not updating. I'm about to embark on a journey of Frodoian proportions. At last count the drive I have before me is 12 hours, but following my Tolkienian metaphor that'll just get me to the elven home of Imladris. People often talk about chapters of their lives and things opening closing and what not. It's a droll concept that I've never really subscribed to but at this point I feel like that it doesn't come close to describing how my life will irrevocably change before the weekend by half. It's as though my life up to this point were the happy travelings of a young and plucky burgler. Now, some sixty years later, I find myself inheritor of an artifact of unimaginable power and it is left to me to see the Necromancer brought down. Ok. That's the last Middle-earth metaphor, I promise.

The dark irony is, of course, that since I'll be torn from my debiliating addictions, I may actually manage to update this week. Only the Shadow and your hairdresser knows for sure.

-Kroy has gone offline


that jolly jumbuk that you've got in your tucker bag

The Conclusion of a Very Rigid Search

I know, I know, I'm not updating much lately. All I can say is, I've been otherwise occupied. I have pressing business with the Twilight's Hammer cult. I'm sure you understand.

In other news, I also just recently had the pleasure of viewing Everything is Illuminated which is an excellent film. It stars everyone's favorite hobbit (well, he wasn't my favorite hobbit but I got much love for Master Samwise). Anyway, unlike some other celebrities who can't seem to find work because of their involvement with certain hallowed franchises, Elijah Wood doesn't seem to be having any trouble maintaining a vibrant work schedule. This was an independent film that I saw trailers for several months ago during one of my scheduled romps through apple trailers. It looked good to me immediately but to my knowledge it never came to any theatres in this area. If it did, I missed it. At any rate, we rented it last night and I can recommend it unconditionally.

The basic story is about this weird little guy who wears his pants too high, this guy collects things. All kinds of crap and he's on a journey to find a woman who was, apparently very important to his Grandfather. It's essentially a road movie. But this is a road movie featuring a crotchety old blind driver, a modern day Prufrock, and a broken English speaking Ukrainian who is of premium comedy making. I don't want to spoil anything about the movie so that's all I'll say besides you should see this movie.

Dr. Jackhole rating: Four Grapes Up

-Kroy has left the server


slapped my dried up carcass