Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Well, I figure I should hurry if I have any intention of commenting on the hookers constituting MyStyle Network's piss poor excuse for a reality show cast of the all-new, can't be canceled soon enough, Dallas Divas & Daughters.
There is oh so much to say, but it's been a long day, so I'll stick to the highlights of just one embarrassing duo for today.
To kick off this big bubbly bucket of "lower middle class posing as high-society Dallas, whatever that is..." fun, Jacky and her "If I stare, she might melt" Mom, Patricia, are an utter train wreck. Clearly, not the Berkshire/Burlington Northern kind... more so like the Trinity Railway Express Irving to North Richland Hills route pre-2001.
For starters, I nearly fell out of my chair when Patricia, the private parts of whom I'm not 100% convinced are female, appeared on screen with the Halloween mask she seems intent on freaking us out with year-round. What the hell is wrong with this woman's face?? Maybe she can't help it, but that begs the question - was the casting director BLIND? Maybe his/her vision is hiding somewhere far, far away along with Patty's elusive eyebrows.
And Jacky, with a Y... it's great that the other Parkies are jealous of your "natural tan" and rarely seen Latino heritage within HP's city limits... I will avoid the urge to add the obligatory inappropriate [insert obligatory inappropriate hispanic manual labor joke here] bracket. Oops.
But back to Jacky... with a Y. Because it's all about Jacky... with a Y, isn't it? You've accomplished quite a bit in your short 17 years, haven't you? I've got almost a decade on you and am still working on sarcasm as biting as yours and a tan that looks as effortless. But while your peers also may be jealous of your tan, as you say, ya know what they aren't going to be jealous of? The embarrassment you are causing yourself by parading the University of North Motherfucking Texas as some prestigious private college of the south on national television. That's similar to touting Baylor as the premier football powerhouse of the Big 12... or Texas A&M as a well-balanced, not over-loaded with douchebaggery institution... in the mountains... that is also good at football. It's like opposite day with overpriced accessories.
Don't get me wrong - it could be worse. You could have chosen... UTA. Or DBU. Maybe ITT Tech. But in the socialite-stuffed, money-obsessed world of Dallas where the expensive private school parking sticker on the back of your car can make or break your wait in the valet line, this choice is of the utmost importance. And even if for some really ingenious reason your mom is driving a Benz and wearing couture clothes while unable to afford a fancy private school, at least have the intelligence to understand that anything associated with Denton, Texas has never been, nor will it ever be, high society. Other, of course, than Rudy's BBQ.
With all of that said, I feel bad with you two being first up on my list... but to be completely honest, you are the least ridiculous mom/daughter couple on this show.
Next up? Freshman fifteen in waiting and her mom, Pamela. I'm surprised Hannah, who has never worked a day in her life, can even manage to find her way across the street, much less get her diploma. At least Jacky with a Y has plans to attend college - or at least get wasted, make some bad decisions and skip class as most of her peers likely will do. I'm sure we will get more information on both girls than ever desired as the groundbreaking drama unfolds this season on the show that has officially given Houston full rights to talk crazy shit to Dallas until at least the spring of 2010.
Until next time, my dears.
All my love,
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Blame the mediocre-at-best college copy editor in me, but it just had my favorite journalism professor's A+ written all over it... kinda like the time I was super hungover and forgot about my Advanced Editing class assignment to write headlines, and literally on my way to class wrote one titled "Feng Shui Your Way to a Casual Work Environment." Swear to God, I didn't know Shui was pronounced "Schway" and thus didn't know I was creating a witty rhyme. I got an A+.
Thereafter I was the class pet of my overly-critical professor who RARELY gave out As, much less A+s, and would detail out how rare it was every time he did. On your paper. Everyone hated me. I giggled often. But, I digress. Here's the article I couldn't give two shits about. See below.
Judge Has Finally Told Darrel Rundus What To Do With His Religious Tracts at the State Fair
By Robert Wilonsky
Wed., Sep. 30 2009 @ 11:28AM
For years, Rundus -- who's apparently some kind of marketing genius? -- tried to pass out religious literature inside the fairgrounds during the Fair. But each time he was stopped by Dallas police officers and Fair officials, who said, sure, he could do his thing outside the Fair (like, on the public sidewalks), but not inside -- not unless he rented an exhibit space and stayed put. To which Rundus said: Federal lawsuit! And the thing worked its way through U.S. Magistrate Jeff Kaplan's court for three long years -- until September 16.
At that point, Kaplan had enough and ruled in the city and Fair's favor, as evidenced by the memorandum order and opinion you'll find below. (The brief judgment follows after the jump, as does the City Attorney's Office official position filed with the court last November.) As far as Kaplan's concerned, the city's got nothing to do with setting State Fair policy -- it is, after all, a private entity (since 1886!) that takes control of the fairgrounds for a few weeks each year -- and rules is rules.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Cowboys Stadium shakes up life for nearby homeowners
ARLINGTON – The Wolfenbergers are fans of their newest neighbors but could live without the accompanying palatial home towering over north Arlington.
The retired couple – they have lived in the same house for 49 years – are among the hundreds of residents now sharing their neighborhood and lives with the Dallas Cowboys. Reactions so far have been all over the field, from open hostility to cautious optimism, as residents wrestle with traffic woes as well as the future of their neighborhoods.
"I don't know if the traffic could get any worse," said Boone Wolfenberger about the roadways around his subdivision north of Cowboys Stadium...
Not all the residents adjacent to the $1.15 billion venue, the world's largest domed stadium, are that negative.
But most have been affected in some way.
Since June, Cowboys owner Jerry Jones' new neighbors have lived through eight major events – from concerts to Cowboys preseason football to the largest crowd ever to watch a soccer match in Texas.
Okay, I have to stop this madness here. I can't do it any longer. Even my drunkass is sobering up while reading this big pile of news-agnostic poop. And the entire time I'm reading this article, the same thought is running through my head...
"TGI Friday's potato skins will still be there tomorrow, you dumb high-risk heart-attack hooker. If Cowboys traffic EIGHT TIMES IN FOUR MONTHS has somehow truly changed your life in an overwhelmingly negative way, then what alternate reality were you in when you CHOSE to move to the City of Arlington in the first place? Holy shit, you might even want to say thank you for this stadium possibly adding a few years to your life thanks to involuntary prevention of your fat Arlington ass not lumbering its way up to any token chain grease-laden restaurant of the week. And for the 67th time, NO cheese sticks are NOT a good source of slimming protein."
Alrighty. I will get off my soap box for now, but let me reiterate to Arlington residents, the new stadium is most definitely THE single most exciting thing that will ever happen in your piece of shit city, so enjoy it.
And if you disagree? No problem. Just send me a note at email@example.com and I will be happy to respond at my earliest convenience.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
(Link to full absurdity here)
An agreement by most of the Dallas City Council to substantially trim its own costs appears to be unraveling, even as City Hall undergoes its deepest service cuts in decades.
In a memo signed by 11 members of the council last week, council member Angela Hunt proposed saving more than $426,000 in expenses stemming from the operation of City Council offices.
But even before the memo went public, the apparent savings began to evaporate.
Hunt and others on the council acknowledged this week that key elements of the savings plan either have come undone or were based on faulty figures to begin with.
It's unclear exactly what the council's cuts will save City Hall when a final budget is approved on Sept. 23.
"I think the numbers will drop, maybe $100,000 here and there," Mayor Pro Tem Dwaine Caraway said.
At this point in the conversation, kiddies, I'm going to pause for a tequila shot break and hope that when I come back the quote listed above by the Mayor Pro Tem doesn't sound as fucking ridiculous as what I just read.
That is all. Carry on.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Hugs & smoochies,
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
This year's crop of contestants gives a little transparency into just how much D has been hurting from its recent layoffs. Last year when I read the profiles of each girl chosen as a candidate, it left me feeling quite shallow, selfish and uncaring about my community. It inspired me to drink more and forget about how poorly I stacked up against those noble women.
This year when I perused the candidate lineup, the visual appeal of which is littered with hints of "We got hot retarded wasted, then made our final selections," I was left feeling like the bright and shiny others-centered ideal role model in a sinner-laden city in need of a lemondrop martini toting savior.
A few gem excerpts from this year's cream of the Dallas crop:
Candidate #2 -Charity Beaver: "This woman deserves votes for her name alone... She divides her time between Cooper, the Dallas Country Club, and Equinox, but this lady isn’t all work and no play. “I’m a wino,” she says, laughing. “And I love cheeseboards. I have one at least once a week.”
I too think she deserves votes for her name alone, but not her first name. And what WOULD we do without the great work she is doing in the community at the three most expensive places to workout and/or breathe in Dallas. However, 2 Beaver points for Charity thanks to the wino quote.
Candidate #3 - Christina Campfield: "This former Miss Dallas USA is more than just a pretty face."
You sure about that DMag? The whopping 99 words you dedicated to explain why she's a finalist speaks for itself. Or may-be you need-ed 2 keep it sim-ple so the can-di-dates would-n't(not) get over-whelmed when read-ing their own pro-files.
Candidate #7 - Bee Lee: "She participates in charity runs and does yoga and then mixes things up at the Ritz, PM Lounge, and Mi Cocina."
So, in the application when you said note their various volunteer efforts and contributions within the community, you actually meant remove the world volunteer... and replace it with over-priced bar hopping and/or binge drinking? Fuck me for not applying. I would've been a shoe-in.
Candidate #10 - Lisa Medlen: "...She’s never felt the need to pull up stakes and move elsewhere. “There’s so much to do here,” she says. “We don’t have the ocean or mountains, but we have great exhibits at the Nasher, shopping, and restaurants.”"
Sooo... concrete. We have concrete.
Candidate #14 - Merlene Phillips: "She has a successful business that allows her to counsel people who have serious issues with food including teenagers battling an eating disorder."
Marlene, please see candidates #1, 3, 10, 17, and 18.
Candidate #16 - Victoria Snee: The SMU grad made her way to Dallas as soon as she could, and save for a brief stint at a television station in Wichita Falls, she hasn’t left."
Holy shit, if the only city I had ever lived in other than Dallas was Wichita Falls, I'd get back as fast as I could too.
Candidate #18 - Kameron Westcott: "When she’s not importing fabrics from Brazil or sketching a trench coat for Fido, she spends time with her new husband, Court (owner of upscale nail salon Polished in Plano)."
So many things wrong with this sentence. My nausea overfloweth, just like the feeling "Court" likely gets every time he is forced to stick his pee-pee in anything other than a pooh-pooh.
Candidate #19 - Kinsey Wilton: "They were talking about when you are destined to meet someone... like... you know... like 'You've Got Mail' I guess... I mean, what's that word? (interviewer: "soulmate?") Yeah... soulmate."
Kinsey, I love you. I really do. Thank God you are pretty enough to make up for comments like that. Unfortunately for your competitors, between Big Nose Magee and Drunk Goggles Gilda, they are not. This lineup is harder on the eyes and ears than any man has ever gotten after viewing.
I need a drink... DMag, can I get some of whatever you had? Or please, please humor me and tell me this is the wittiest piece of work your magazine has ever published. If that is true, and I know you have it in you, you will find me Standing. Clapping. Martini in hand.
All my love,
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Friday, July 24, 2009
We have gone over this.
#1 - I'm lazy.
#2 - I write when I feel like it.
#3 - I like my vodka tonic with lemon... LEMON people, not lime. How hard is it?
Overall, I'd like to ensure I'm underpromising and underdelivering in every aspect of your virtual content expectation. If I'm exceeding, then I'm failing. So, please. For the love of Bajoses. Go away. I'd like to start writing again.
All my love,
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
"No earmuffs necessary" version below:
Usually, I would use repetitive foul language and sarcastic childish insults to address an idea as asinine as this, and I have done so on my SoDallas blog, but for this post I'll be serious for once. Don't get used to it.
As someone who could directly benefit from this development based on proximity, I still could not be more opposed to it.
First of all, I have to question any proposal which involves us modeling something that replicates any part of the god-forsaken city of San Antonio. Good grief - I'd move us even further away if I could.
Second, it is grossly negligible for any businessperson in Dallas to throw out a concept like this who clearly has zero insight, nor did he seek out insight from the authorities who do have it, with regard to the economic impact for the airline industry, as well as global economy, this could have based on the costs associated with this change.
When making proposal with as wide-reaching of an impact as this, it is not just smart, but also your responsibility to point out the negative aspects that could impact the average citizen who at the end of the day will live with this decision. And if your case is a solid one, transparency regarding the negatives will only help in proving your case. Frankly, it is reckless to not do so.
Southwest Airlines is a cornerstone of the economic environment within the aviation industry, an industry which has more power than almost any other in terms of revenue generated globally. Turner is carelessly tossing this idea out there and positioning it as though moving is Southwest's only other option.
News flash. Based on the costs this could easily drive for them, costs that exist outside of the juvenile box of travel industry understanding from which Turner is clearly operating based on his proposal, Southwest would be gone in a heartbeat. And either way - whether moving to South Dallas or another city - they lose because all either option offers Southwest is a monstrosity of costs in operations, distribution and labor back-filling. And when Southwest loses, thus does the city of Dallas, the travel industry, and the global economy as a whole.
Do some research, Turner, before recklessly proposing ideas with a level of complexity you could not even begin to understand.
And lastly, I nary trust any company without the foresight to hire a graphic designer for its proposals or its website. Bad taste is bad taste, but maybe that explains San Antonio.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Whatever Randall Turner is smoking, while shooting it up his arm, while snorting it up his nose, I want some.
Quick question, though: what the FUCK were you thinking?
That's like me telling Christ Almighty that "Ehhh, you know how you have been positioning this whole "heaven" place as our eternal "home" and all? Well, I'm sure you will agree once you see these revenue projections that moving it over to the left & down a smidge would be no biggie. Your angels DO fly, right? Whip up some pearly gates for that Purgatory place, and no one will ever know the difference!"
And when you so thoughtfully stated how you "see no negatives whatsoever" in creating a monstrosity of ridiculous costs to move to Oak Cliff the only airline in this great nation still within reach, albeit a Dirk Nowitzki-length reach, of profitability and replace it with the shittiest performing industry in Dallas right now - residential motherfucking real estate?
Per this statement on your website, and I use the term website generously, "When we learn of a potential opportunity, our team immediately investigates it, putting together budgetary projections and an in-depth analysis to determine if the project meets our standards for profitability or not."
That's great, Randy-Rand. Sounds like this project meets your standards. But here's something to save for later when your abacus is handy and your head is not up your ass - Southwest traffics 11 BILLION DOLLARS of air segment revenue through this fair city every year. Why I have a hunch that Dallas makes more on that $11B than the shitty 100 million you project your project will bring in, not including the ancillary revenue that is generated by travelers, I'm not sure... not to mention to the price pressure Southwest's existence puts on AA, impacting the ENTIRE ECONOMIC CLIMATE you ruh-tard.
And next thing you know, John Wiley Price & his crazy-lovin' ass will be all over this idea. Then, Randall, you can take a backseat, enjoy the JWP show, and tippy-toe-tap-dance off into the sea, or Bachman Lake in this case. Pitter pat amongst goodie-goodie gumdrops where people travel via unicorn, magic carpet & fairy-dust, where the dirty pirate hookers who work for you are actually pretty pink princesses with pixie dust and glass slippers, and where heaven is now just a hop-skip and a fiery jump away thanks to your ability to convince the Lord of Heaven and Earth that the infinity zip code was no longer, in the words of Dallas commercial real estate Douchebagology, at Main & Main.
Go suck on a cap rate.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Overall, the show was incredible as usual - other than the dumb bitch from Houston who was oh-so-shocked when Jenkins mentioned her city & everyone booed. Her quick-witted & never heard before $30,000 millionaire retort left all of us deeply wounded soon after.
Not to mention that she consciously chose to wear 4-inch high heels to a standing-only concert. Sweetheart, I hate to break the news, but secret's out. Your fat ass legs don't look less disgusting by lifting your calves up a few inches - get on a treadmill. Or just sit outside in the sauna that is your shitty city for a few minutes each day.
To be sure, though, if there is one city on the planet that deserves to be booed, it's Houston. The only shittier city in this great nation is Orlando, and at least they have a few roller coasters.
So, Houston, please be a dear, and eat a huge dick. But if you wait patiently until tonight, Stephan Jenkins just might do it for you. Enjoy.
Monday, May 18, 2009
My favorite excerpt?
"Fire your entire design team, if you have one. Hire an outside design firm on an emergency timetable to design your online experience, and build it as quickly as possible. Your in-house team is obviously incapable of building a good experience. Get outside help."
A local shop-owner responded soon after with this weak excuse for a signed, sealed & delivered lip-glossified ass kiss.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Friday, April 17, 2009
"I'm innocent until proven guilty. If I felt like I was doing something wrong, I would have paid the tickets."
Then maybe I really am qualified to weasel Dallas out of its re-fucking-diculous deficit, a descriptor one might also use to refer to the bows you put in your daughters' hair for these staged photos... the likes of which they will be snorting coke off of in their late teens/early twenties, wishing their childhood had been filled with memories other than their father selecting his "power suspenders" of the day, then rolling around in a vat of cash.
But, to be fair, rolling around in piles of cash did work for Bobby Tilton... and at this point, beggars can't be choosers in this fair city... so show me where to park the getaway Lambo, Brint-Brint, and we'll re-build this city on much more than late 80's rock & roll.
Now, if you could just show me where exactly it is we go to vote... you know... that government building... where you go... when you vote... in all those elections you participated in... with that stellar voting record of yours... when you gave a shit about the community... the place where you bubble in your vote with pencil... not pen... the large building with the signs VOTE HERE outside... that place you never actually went to pay your tickets... that building that has frequently processed your arrest warrants based on your unpaid speeding tickets... you know... where we VOTE?! I swear to God I'm going to vote for you... just as long as my sweet-ass million dollar tax corporation, whose job is to steal every possible penny it can from the government in tax dollars for those large corporations you common folk hate... those same taxes we steal for those companies that you subsequently end up paying for in your own individual taxes... that, Brint Ryan, is the only reason I could possibly think of that might get in the way of me showing up to vote for you on May 9th.
Bitch gotta eat, you know?
Monday, April 13, 2009
Heard a few interesting things over the weekend about a few of our beloved sanctuaries o' fornication, Suite & Ghost Bar.
Apparently, Suite has some sort of new investor/ownership as Giese makes his move toward the ventures he originally set out to tackle in this hallowed city of Dallas. The original plan included Giese & Co's continued involvement in the day-to-day operations of the club.
However, rumors have recently surfaced surrounding facts that the new partner in this venture has seen face time a few years ago on the show How to Catch a Predator. And based on the number of underage dirty pirate hookers that jiggle their goods on the stripper poles each week, this investment was one that has likely piqued much more than his interest. Lame jokes aside, Giese is supposedly pulling his crew back from any association with the new ownership - and from the looks of the newly launched Suite web presence/shittiest website I have ever seen/my 4 year-old niece could throw-up on a keyboard with Dreamweaver open & create something better, it seem these rumors may be true.
And in other news that no intelligent person should give a shit about, Ghost Bar is rumored to be closing soon. The hundreds of drunk screams from $500 table service-mooching skanks that echo throughout Uptown every weekend evening as I try to pass out/fall asleep... beg to differ.
Feel free to let me know that my info is from shitty sources in the comments section below. I'm making a task reminder in Outlook now to completely ignore you.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Yeesh - and as I reread that paragraph, I just realized that the phrase 'espouse untruths' gives me the same gag reflex reaction that her husband likely had during his first few homo rendezvous on Katy Trail.
Aside from all of that, this discussion on the Trinity Toll Road between Angela Hunt (seen above, in case you missed her Glamour Shots photo circa 1993) & Wick Allison is an interesting read, and also one that likely makes most males in Dallas thrilled they don't have to beg to throw their hotdog down that hallway on a regular basis. She would probably call out Laura Miller's name during sex anyway, and who really wants the mental image of them scissoring? I can just see the thick-fabric, shoulder-padded skirt suits flying now. Yeesh, yeesh, yeesh.
Anyway, did I mention Wick Allison is my hero? The reason behind which can be seen simply by reading the opening line to his closing argument... "You are retailing once again the same arguments you wholesaled in 2007." The dorky writer in me smiles at such ingenuity.
So, get some beauty rest, Hunt. Spewing ugly all day out of three pounds of that Alexa Conomos-red lipstick simply has to get tiring.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Started listening to him a few years back, and was pleasantly surprised that I only had to pay $10 to see him in the coziest & one of my new favorite venues in Dallas, The Prophet Bar in Deep Ellum (formerly part of Gypsy). The bartender, who left half of the drinks we ordered off of our tab, informed me that Erykah Badu's band plays there regularly & she stops by to sing with them every so often - most recently a couple of weeks ago. Did I mention this is my new favorite place?
On another unrelated note, or 100% related, I'm so, so very hungover. Apparently, there is no gray area for me, and the term moderation means very little. Maybe one day when I am in my thirties I will stop drinking with the responsibility level of a high school freshman. Or not.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Monday, March 2, 2009
I only slightly recall the last time I got in a cab & couldn't remember a damn thing to save my life, let alone my precious BlackBerry... it's called Stupid Wasted Bitch Drunk. Also known as precisely the category into which this SMUer would have fallen when she was allegedly robbed at gunpoint by her cab driver.
I mean, really, SMU Spokesperson Gary Shultz? It would have been less amusing to me had you not actually provided information that supported the antithesis of your argument:
When she reported the incident, she was unable to give a description of the driver and the cab.
Gary Shultz, a spokesman for the university, said the student, who has not been identified, is new and unfamiliar with the area.
“That’s why she was vague on the details,” he said.
That, of course, and the 9 shots of vodka doing the happy dance in her tummy awaiting their 4am curtain call at the Porcelain God Aqua Theatre in her Village apartment bathroom.
More importantly, in a world where 1+1 tends to equal 2, how the hell does a person being unfamiliar with her geographic location have any impact on her ability to describe a PERSON or A CAB?
I was 19 sheets to the wind at The Killers concert, actually tripped & fell in the grass, then rolled down the hill and into my cab that I was still able to identify the next day, once I realized my BlackBerry had gone missing. I had to cancel meetings until 2pm solely with the intent of ensuring I wouldn't puke on someone at the office... and was pulled over twice to yak on my way to work by my stomach reminding me never to drink again... and with all of that, you are telling me this basted witch couldn't remember YELLOW or BLUE covering the massive moving piece of metal that carried her home because she was from Scottsdale instead of Dallas?
Even with all of that, the most tell-tale piece of evidence was simply the fact that she was robbed at all. No cab driver in his right mind is going to pull a gun on a sober passenger in a marked cab with his driver's license, cab ID number, cab company name & phone number displayed in 176 pt. font for all the world to see, remember & use to send his ass to Cancun, where life as a cabbie is much less pleasant & much more basted witch-intensive. The plain & simple fact is that she was tee-tee consuelad, people, and likely doesn't have a case with legs that will ever hold up in a court of law. Class dismissed.
But what have we learned here, kiddos... it's situations like this that help mold the decisions one makes in the future. The next time she or another SMUer is in this situation, they will remember what happened, and do things differently. Who knew you actually had to give an SMU female a good reason to take a guy home with her at closing time?
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Anyway, I find it only fitting that this is my 100th post on SoDallas as I pay homage to my precious Killers whose influence has shaped many a post in the past, including my very first. And frankly, this 'accomplishment' is great & depressing all at the same time - did it seriously take me almost a year and a half to write 100 posts? Fucking lame is what that is, but so it goes.
So, back to The Killers.
The concert, as it always is, was awesome. I'm not sure if that was in part thanks to the margaritas combined with three double vodka tonics or not, but the lights sure shined brighter, the music sounded sweeter and the drunk trainwreck that was me leaving my BlackBerry in a cab didn't cause a worry in the world until the next morning.
Unfortunately, I was momentarily depressed as many of the douchebags, who are so eager to spend 3X face value for a pit ticket, couldn't recognize the song Smile Like You Mean It even if their asshole had whistled the tune every time they took a shit in the last year & the lyrics were printed on the toilet paper. Mr. Flowers started in to that song, my most beloved of beloved, and everyone in the pit starred at him silently and blankly. Yet when their shitty musical response to Sam's Town criticism from people who shouldn't be allowed to pass 7th grade band class, much less be called music journalists, starts playing (also known as their most mainstream bull-shit song since Somebody Told Me), everyone goes wild. Kill me now, Mr. Flowers. Or just play for a few minutes longer & let my poor drinking judgment do the dirty work for you. Either way.
Thank God I was too wasted to notice, or care for that matter, whether Shadowplay was well-received. Nail in my coffin that most certainly could have been.
All-in-all, it was a magical Wednesday evening & I will always be a dedicated fan... especially if you keep writing lyrics including a 'Jackie' who is a hooker. If you had added 'dirty pirate', I might just think you fancied me. Flattery, my friend, will get you everywhere... and for your sake, I hope you receive the same from your critics so you can start making good music once again.
The soundtrack of my life is patiently waiting.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
And my newest favorite character:
Now it's off to bed for a cozy 4 hours of sleep before yet another day of joyous bliss in Corporate America.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
You know what I'm about to say, don't you... the contents of which forced me to start a new paragraph so that the big C-word wouldn't have to share a paragraph with my question of "are you fucking kidding me??" No seriously, are you?
Believe me, I get it. I get that it's a stuffy, WASPY private school in Dallas where athletics and education are emphatically secondary to religion during the week, while 16 year-olds are drinking, smoking out & losing their virginity on the weekend. I attended one just like it. And I understand it's an awkward moral dilemma for an athletically gifted teenager capable of putting 100 points on the board against a school that literally did arrive at the gym in a short bus. I was that teenager, on that team. Yet, as I walked out of the gym past the scoreboard showing 102-4, I wasn't thinking about how bad I felt or questioning my moral compass. Instead, I was thinking how Texas School for the Deaf never knew what hit them, but my points-per-game & assist rankings in the Dallas Morning News next week sure would. Jackpot.
More perplexing, though, is the statement that "this clearly does not reflect a Christ-like or honorable approach to competition." This is kind of like saying something clearly does not reflect Bush-like & intelligent approach to incredible public speaking. It just leaves you scratching your head & singing "which one of these things does not belong?"
Whatever the case, I just can't wait to be a manager one day when I'm in my thirties, and these kids are a part of my new graduate applicant pool who now, thanks to stories like this, are not only entitled morons, but uncompetitive, entitled morons. Yippee. I can't wait.
So, thanks Covenant board members, Head of School Kyle Queal and Athletic Director Brice Helton. I applaud your aspirations to be Christ-like as you throw your varsity girls basketball team under the bus & put them on public display in the Metroplex media as "shameful" and "embarrassing" without having the adults responsible for the decisions made in a game held accountable... matter of fact, who exactly hired the coach who made such "shameful" & "embarrassing" decisions? Mayyybeee..... the athletic director? Who was hired by the head of school? Who was hired by the board? The board who creates the rules including the likes of those that require students to obey their teachers, and likely references Biblical passages like "Obey your leaders and submit to their authority. They keep watch over you as men who must give an account." Hebrews 13:17? Interesting.
But don't worry, I'm sure the message you intended to send through this debacle was well-received. Because really, let's be honest, in the private sector John 8:32 rarely applies... the truth most certainly does not set you free. Those talented athletes, whose freedom to perform to the best of their ability you just killed, understand it's their fault for being talented within the tiny 2A district your school has chosen to "compete" in. I'm guessing this is a lesson they will remember as they grow into adulthood, and it will likely influence the way they view leadership, sports & competition in the future... well done, great private educators of Dallas, well done.
Yet another example of why Dallas private schools are awesome. I mean, shit, muthafucka, look how great I turned out?
UPDATE: Once Mark Cuban heard about this story today, he extended an invitation to the Dallas Academy players to watch a game in his suite & meet the team. So, either misery loves company, or Cuban has finally found a team the Mavs can consistently dominate.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Frankly, if I were a criminal, I can't imagine a better scenario than one in which I had a target within arm-launching distance off of a 55mph Tollway, where the nearest entrance for any secret service agent is at least 1.5 miles up the road with multiple lights to meander through. Also, since we are playing this game, I would totally sport brass knuckles. Who doesn't look awesome when wearing those? No one, my friend. No one.
Anyway, I'm sure there is no need to worry and that you have not misunderestimated the ability of your security team. At least you didn't piss off too many people in office, and Texans are awwlll reeelly classy peoples who are awwll reeelly weyll edumucated & understaynd yer policies'n that thar awfice and awpreciate the sacrofice youz made for those thar past eyt.. ate... aw fuck, 8 yeers. At least youz got thats goin fer ya... that and your fence, of course.
All my Simon David Preston Hollow love,
Monday, January 5, 2009
1. Spend more time with family & friends. I'll try and not get struck down by lighting on the very first one, so I'll vagina out on this one and say "Aww, that's sweet."
2. Fit in fitness. Hang on a sec - were they trying to be as fucking gay as possible when they wrote this list? "Fit in fitness." Cute. Really. I think "work out more" would have sufficed and not made me want to throw up everywhere. Regardless, this one would require me to actually get up from my desk, or off of my couch, or away from the bar. The answer is D, bitch. None of the above.
3. Tame the bulge. Okay, pardon me, but this is a family show people. Keep it clean. Either this is the exact same thing as #2, or we just entered into some female uptowner's amusingly nasty way of saying she is going to do her best to make all kinds of things disappear in 2009, and I don't mean her beer belly. Tame the bulge, sweetie. Tame it.
4. Quit smoking. Oh yeah? Go fuck yourself! Ahemm.... oops...... sorry. :( Knee-jerk.
5. Enjoy life more. Check & check. Annnddd....my liver just threw up all over my small intestine out of fear. Awesome.
6. Quit drinking. Alriiiggght, alright. I'm not THAT naive. You crazy jokers got me, silly kids. Golly geez. Where is that hidden camera anyway - you totally had me fooled. But that split second I thought you were serious almost gave me a heart attack - I need a martini to calm my nerves, por favor. Sugar on the rim.
7. Learn something new. Well, let's see. 4&6 being legitimately listed both just taught me some people really are as dumb as they sound. Who knew.
8. Get organized. I'd say that has about as good of a chance of happening as Wade Phillips shtooping Jessica Simpson without shouting "Wull, gawwlly geee" mid-coitus.
9. Get out of debt. Please refer to #6, also known as the reason this ain't gonna happen when my favorite drink is a $12 lemondrop martini. Believe me, it's worth it.
10. Help others. www.sodallas.com. Done.
And here's a card from me to you, Dallas, you sweet soul-less city, you. Happy New Year!