Saturday, March 31, 2007

Blowhard...

...is a noun. It means a conceited and self-centered person.


Since I'm all about education and not politics, the etymology of the word comes from the old west, when people would bring their gold dust in to the purveyor. Said purveyor had a tray that they would pour the dust into, and since gold weighed more than 18 times that of dirt, they would blow into the tray to dislodge the dirt and leave the gold behind and hence give the customer their due. 'Cept some would blow so hard as to disperse some of the gold onto the floor and pocket the change. Hence the term "Blowhard". This has been a public service announcement.
posted by GalacticallyStupid at 2:32 PM Your Galactically Stupid Two Cents 2

One Of My Favorite Movies...

...has always been Scent Of A Woman.

It epitomizes the very essence of sexuality. A blind man that still senses the odor of women he can't see, yet it brings him such pleasure. From the flora of their shampoo to the natural fragrance of their vagina. Of course, the movie is so much more than that, but I'm horny tonight and I have tits on my mind. I suggest you go read Kierkegaard if you're having an existential meltdown.

posted by GalacticallyStupid at 4:06 AM Your Galactically Stupid Two Cents 2

Ahhh, For The Old Days...

...when things seemed simple and only Jesus walked on water.

Well, enough of that bullshit.
posted by GalacticallyStupid at 3:42 AM Your Galactically Stupid Two Cents 2

Thursday, March 29, 2007

What The Hell Is One To Do...

...when they reach the precipice?


When one wakes and nothing makes sense. Nor does it when the head hits the pillow. Despite all attempts it's total confusion. You know that you have the Ace, but it's not enough. The joker always wins.

One takes the time to lend an ear in all cases, but in the long run there is no salvation. Perhaps it's just destiny.
posted by GalacticallyStupid at 5:42 PM Your Galactically Stupid Two Cents 0

I Wasn't Going To Comment On This...

...because it's best to let the sleeping dogs snore, or lay, or whatever the saying is.


I happen to like this lady. But damned if she doesn't run into some bad luck. Nevertheless, one has to admire her tenacity when she confronts said bad luck. If it were her and a pit bull in a closed cage, I'd put my money on Babs.

I'm confounded as to why she has such lousy luck when it comes to men. Maybe it's a curse or some bad kharma of some kind. Be that as it may, I like reading her. She's intelligent and insightful, while still being humble when need be. And she opens her life for all to see. I admire that. She's been pissed on, again, but I suspect she wouldn't want any pity. So I shan't behoove you to send any. But if you like reading about the human condition, in all its glory, then go pay a visit, as you have before. If nothing else, it's compelling. And told as only she can.
posted by GalacticallyStupid at 9:14 AM Your Galactically Stupid Two Cents 8

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

Just A Few Thoughts...

...about the stupid stuff.









  • I like Tony Snow. He's the prez's press secretary that had colon cancer two years ago. It's back, with a vengeance. His ass is pretty much history, as best I can tell from my research, but I hope not. Thing that gets me is why people that have cancer and get treatment suddenly, after a year, say they are cancer free and cancer survivors. If they are survivors then why are they now dying from it? Once you have it you have it. Those cells are rummaging through your body just looking for a place to call home and then come up and knock the shit out of you.

    I'll give you a personal example, which the experts will dispel, but makes perfect sense to me and most intelligent people I talk to. When you get a biopsy for PCa they stick this ultrasound thingy up your ass and then poke needles through your bowel into the prostate and get a tissue sample. Don't ya kinda think that invading that tissue and bleeding for 6 fucking weeks isn't releasing cancer cells to other places in your body? Thought so. Me too.

  • The venerable pony express has decided to raise prices again, but they are throwing us a bone, kinda the size of mine. A "timeless" stamp that will be good forever. What the fuck am I supposed to do with that offer? Go out and spend $1000 on stamps? I think I'll save my money and get a bionic dick. Seems like a better investment.

  • Why is it that some people have no notion of the expediency of getting out important stuff because they are worried about lunch, but are more than willing, while others are engaged in said procedure, and skipped lunch, to offer their vast wisdom that to miss the 4:30 deadline might hurt some companies because they close at 5:00. DUH!! Speaking of which, I was outstanding today in obliterating a few bugs that allowed us to meet our deadline. With a program I know little about. Of course it required no lunch and countless numbers of smokes. I need a life. Maybe a Harley.

  • And one more thing. The "almost" second wife said she wouldn't marry me when I first asked her because I wasn't a "bad boy". I'm not sure what that meant, but I kinda knew I was never going to ask this lady again. She said I was too nice. Yep, I am. I'll come fix your car, your roof, tear out a wall, paint. But I guess if I don't wear chaps and throttle a harley I'm a pussy. Go figure.

posted by GalacticallyStupid at 11:35 PM Your Galactically Stupid Two Cents 4

I Posted The Comments...

...from the previous post but blogger is on the rag and sent them into the tampon of cyberspace. If you would be kind enough, GroovyLady, k and freebies, to comment again, I will get them up there. Thanks. Don't let that head get too big, GL, and k, thanks. And freebies, when is spandex a good thing under any circumstance?
posted by GalacticallyStupid at 11:13 PM Your Galactically Stupid Two Cents 0

Now This Is One Funny Lady...

...so go pay a visit.

You will laugh your ass off!!
posted by GalacticallyStupid at 4:39 PM

Saturday, March 24, 2007

WTF Has Happened...

...to the world I live in.


Mystified and cloudy-headed from a dream I had, I awakened at 1 fucking AM. I turn on the TV and see this morphed homo wearing a belt with spandex pants screeching out "UP" - "DOWN" while beautiful women with fake titties, that don't bounce to the tune of "UP" - "DOWN", and camel toes that defy imagination, all pretending to have fun as they do some basic exercises in the backdrop of some Hawaiian island.

I know this to be a ruse. It's the same thing as bottled water. The devil is fucking with my ass. Thinking I will succumb to this nonsense so my little weenie will find some comfort in a nested bush. I am women, hear me roar. Or not. I need a pill of some kind, preferably one that will make me forget what I just watched. But it's been etched in my mind. I fear the worse. Pray for me. I'm going the rosary route today in hopes of saving my dilapidated soul.

Who wears a belt with spandex? JFC, this ain't right.
posted by GalacticallyStupid at 10:15 AM Your Galactically Stupid Two Cents 3

Friday, March 23, 2007

Friday Night Bullets...

...installment for whatever today is.




  • I find it somewhat befuckling that no one has commented on the cancer issue regarding the Edwards'. Why aren't they pushing for more muscle in the hope of a cure? Put some heat on the FDA and the drug companies to find a cure. Ahh, but that would cost the drug companies and their investors millions upon millions of dollars. As of now, they have developed some drugs that prolong life for a period of time, and they pat the pockets of the drug companies. And they make millions. And to those w/o insurance? They're fucked.

    I always sucked at math, science and business. I'm right-brained. Means I know a nice tit when I see one. Cancer involves our cells. Mitochondria, best as I can discern. They are the powerhouse of cells. Normal cells, and hence these powerhouses, just normally run out of energy and die and our body replaces them. Simple enough. Not so with cancer. Normal, healthy cells in your body grow in a very orderly and well-controlled way, living for a set period of time and then dying on schedule. When a normal cell dies, your body replaces it with another normal cell. Cancer cells grow in an uncontrolled manner. They forget to die and therefore the diseased cells accumulate. One malignant cell becomes two, two become four, four become eight, and so on, until a mass of cells (a tumor) is created. Tumors remain small until they're able to attract their own blood supply, which allows them to obtain the oxygen and nutrients they need to grow larger. I'm confused as to why they can't control these powerhouses and their desire to replicate and the blood supply. We have a lot of smart people and scientists in this country. Should be a slam dunk.

    Now, they say if you can regulate the ph in your body these cells can't live. They hate an alkaline environment. But it's really very difficult to do that, if at all. But my point is this. Why can't scientists working on this shit determine that if a cell won't die, we program it to? There's some new science looking into nano-cells, or some such. They say it shows promise. I say bullshit.

    Because I don't think the drug companies, and by extension, the FDA, will ever allow it. Too much money lost to walk into your MD, be diagnosed with the big "C" and get a shot, or whatever, and walk out cured. Never gonna happen.

  • I normally don't comment on work, and will never give an inkling as to where I do said work, but they hired a new guy that is supposed to make things more "fluid". Nice enough guy, when he's there. He just disappears for hours at a time. Sometimes with the owner, sometimes with one of the sales guys. I'm no dummy. There is something in the shithole about this guy. I should care, but I don't. I do what I do and know I can make a good case. We'll se how it plays out.

  • I just can't get into the usual programs I watch. I tried to watch Dancing With The Stars but I couldn't hang. Especially the Heather MIlls leg thing. Who cares if she can dance. Here she is nekkid. Before she lost her leg. You wanna dance with her? I think not. Maybe foreplay.

  • I happen to be a big believer in the fact that when our "intention" wants us home, our ass is outta here. I've seen too many instances of it.

    It could be that we surpassed our expectations and he/she didn't want us to fuck up. Or it could be that we just weren't going to win this little game we play. Or our moral compass went haywire. Just thinking, with the help of Franzia.





posted by GalacticallyStupid at 11:18 PM Your Galactically Stupid Two Cents 0

Thursday, March 22, 2007

The Shit Bucket...

...or my shit don't stink. Hang in here with me. My head is full of fecal matter so I may sound like a shithead.


In the olden days(and I don't mean the 1950's. More like the 1400's) the chumps of society had to carry around buckets and one was for piss and one for shit. The aristocrats summoned the bucket carriers and they (the aristocrats) deposited their bodily excrement into the bucket and said peons took it to wherever for deposit. A shit and piss bank or something like that. I guess it was normal for the times and no one thought anything about it. It was normal behavior and life just went on, stink and all. Me thinks that somewhere along the line is where the phrase "I'm not putting up with this shit" was coined. But I could be wrong.

Move ahead a bit and someone came up with the idea of sewers and such and no one had to carry shit around any longer, except their own psychological shit, which stinks worse than most of our own biological poop we send down the commode.

So,in our adaptation, we no longer had to deal with shit, except our own and those of our children. Babies have no choice but to shit as they please, so we adapted again. Some genius came up with diapers and the shit movement was over.

HAH! We deal with shit everyday. Both figuratively and literally. Been to a nursing home? You'll encounter some shit, of both kinds. Taken care of a cancer patient? Same. We avoid shit as best we can, but it will find us. That's shit's nature. It wants us to feel tainted, and violated.

I changed both of my sons diapers and I saw some serious baby shit. I went to nursing homes when I was in college as part of a program and I saw old women whom had shit their own pants. And I was still required to go pray over them. Which I did, without recourse.

I've cleaned out lift stations as women flush their residue down my face. With a "Do Not Flush" warning on the door.

Point? Shit happens. It always does and always will. You try to avoid it, but it will come and smack you up the side of the head.



posted by GalacticallyStupid at 10:50 PM Your Galactically Stupid Two Cents 0

On The Political Level...

...I happen to think John Edwards is a shyster. He was as a lawyer and he was as my state senator.


The disclosure today that his wife's cancer has returned made me feel sorry for her and hence, by extension, him. Bone cancer is a slow and painful way to die. I've seen it. They put on their brave and kick-ass faces today, but I give her two years, tops. Unless they've made some strides in chemo over the past three years I'm not aware of. But, in the end, all you're doing is prolonging a life. And, as it goes, it gets worse the longer you go.

That said, this could catapult Edwards into the lead for the dems. All that talk of love of country, courage, stay the course and such is just mushy rhetoric, but it plays with people with a sympathetic bend to their personality. If he takes her on the campaign trail and parades her around as the suffering servant he just might beat the wicked witch from the west.

I feel sorry for their kids, however. I wouldn't like to have thought as a kid that my parents thought there was a cause greater than my being with them. But, it ain't my ass and I wouldn't vote for him anyways. I offer up my meager prayers for her. She seems like a good lady.
posted by GalacticallyStupid at 10:11 PM Your Galactically Stupid Two Cents 4

Wednesday, March 21, 2007

I Don't Think I Have To Say...

...anymore than this
posted by GalacticallyStupid at 11:37 PM Your Galactically Stupid Two Cents 1

I Hate These Bastards...

...and bastardesses that engage in this form of navigation.


They dress in silly outfits, they impede my travel, and I should be able to run over their asses when I encounter them without impunity.

They clog up traffic so they don't clog their arteries. Fuck that. My taxes for roads are meant to be spent so I can get from point A to point B. I'm a bikeophile and they prevent me from doing that. I'm supposed to yield to them so I don't cause traffic mayhem and do bodily harm.

I submit they should be summarily sent to the slammer for even having the gumption to wear what they do. It would make for some interesting prison pleasure.
posted by GalacticallyStupid at 11:12 PM Your Galactically Stupid Two Cents 1

This Whole Political Maelstrom...

...over the firing of the U.S. Attorney's is just so much bullshit. I know democracy is supposed to be a work in the making, but the political environment we have now is more like kids fighting on the playground.


This isn't government. It's tom-foolery. I feel about government officials the same way I feel about people that want to have meetings all the time. They want to hear themselves talk and be in the limelight. Enough of this shit. It isn't even worth the time of day. The most toxic invention of our time was the TV. We should be out farming our crops and feeding our children instead of worrying about how we look and how much attention we get. If you watch any of the news conferences the dimowits give, they all shuffle around to make sure they get in the spotlight.

It isn't about partisan politics, folks. It's about running a country, and doing it well, without prejudice. Make it fair for everyone. Politicians these days are nothing more than screen idols. And we all know how egotistic they are. That ego we all have is a funny beast. You continue to feed it and it spins out of control. The id goes to shit and so does the superego. It's no wonder we can't get it right in Iraq. We've lost our whole balance. You can't create a democracy if you don't know what the hell it is any longer.

And someone PLEASE tell Al Gore to shut the fuck up. The planet ain't gonna die in ten years. Hopefully, he will.
posted by GalacticallyStupid at 10:37 PM Your Galactically Stupid Two Cents 0

Tuesday, March 20, 2007

I Won't Post Links And Such...

...to my favorite nurse, because I really do wish her well, but a 59 hour first date? That was called a fuck-fest in my day. Unless, of course, they really were discussing the exegesis of the New Testament. Then I could understand it.
posted by GalacticallyStupid at 11:25 PM Your Galactically Stupid Two Cents 6

This Is One Of The Reasons...

I hate activists, and it's not the type of thing I want to hear after a bad day at the office.


I like animals of all kinds. I don't wanna be around of a lot of them, but that's just my ass's preference. I'm not sure what the hell you do with a polar bear once it grows up, but, again, I don't plan on finding out. But if you're an advocate for them, why would you want them killed because they can't grow up in their native environment? These people are just batshit crazy on every level. There are lots of parents out there that shouldn't be raising kids and we don't tell them to kill their kids.

I often ponder why I live alone. I think when I see or hear or read this type of thing it convinces me I'm doing the correct thing. All I have to say is investigate your cerebellum for fecal matter, because you have shit for brains.
posted by GalacticallyStupid at 11:02 PM Your Galactically Stupid Two Cents 0

Saturday, March 17, 2007

Tit's And Such...

...and whatever...


In George Washington's days, there were no cameras. One's image was either sculpted or painted. Some paintings of George Washington showed him standing behind a desk with one arm behind his back while others showed both legs and both arms. Prices charged by painters were not based on how many people were to be painted, but by how many limbs were to be painted. Arms and legs are "limbs," therefore painting them would cost the buyer more. Hence the _expression, "Okay, but it'll cost you an arm and a leg."


As incredible as it sounds, men and women took baths only twice a year (May and October)! Women kept their hair covered, while men shaved their heads (because of lice and bugs) and wore wigs. Wealthy men could afford good wigs made from wool. They couldn't wash the wigs, so to clean them they would carve out a loaf of bread, put the wig in the shell, and bake it for 30 minutes. The heat would make the wig big and fluffy, hence the term "big wig." Today we often use the term "here comes the Big Wig" because someone appears to be or is powerful and wealthy.


In the late 1700s, many houses consisted of a large room with only one chair. Commonly, a long wide board folded down from the wall, and was used for dining. The "head of the household" always sat in the chair while everyone else ate sitting on the floor Occasionally a guest, who was usually a man, would be invited to sit in this chair during a meal. To sit in the chair meant you were important and in charge. They called the one sitting in the chair the "chair man." Today in business, we use the expression or title "Chairman" or "Chairman of the Board."



Personal hygiene left much room for improvement. As a result, many women and men had developed acne scars by adulthood. The women would spread bee's wax over their facial skin to smooth out their complexions. When they were speaking to each other, if a woman began to stare at another woman's face she was told, "mind your own bee's wax." Should the woman smile, the wax would crack, hence the term "crack a smile" In addition, when they sat too close to the fire, the wax would melt. Therefore, the expression "losing face."



Ladies wore corsets, which would lace up in the front. A proper and dignified woman, as in "straight laced" . . . Wore a tightly tied lace.


Common entertainment included playing cards. However, there was a tax levied when purchasing playing cards but only applicable to the "Ace of Spades." To avoid paying the tax, people would purchase 51 cards instead.
Yet, since most games require 52 cards, these people were thought to be stupid or dumb because they weren't "playing with a full deck."



Early politicians required feedback from the public to determine what the people considered important. Since there were no telephones, TV's or radios, the politicians sent their assistants to local taverns, pubs, and bars. They were told to "go sip some ale" and listen to people's conversations and political concerns. Many assistants were dispatched at different times. "You go sip here" and "You go sip there." The two words "go sip" were eventually combined when referring to the local opinion and, thus we have the term "gossip."



At local taverns, pubs, and bars, people drank from pint and quart-sized containers. A bar maid's job was to keep an eye on the customers and keep the drinks coming. She had to pay close attention and remember who was drinking in "pints" and who was drinking in "quarts," hence the term "minding your "P's and Q's."



One more: bet you didn't know this!
In the heyday of sailing ships, all war ships and many freighters carried iron cannons. Those cannons fired round iron cannon balls. It was necessary to keep a good supply near the cannon. However, how to prevent them from rolling about the deck? The best storage method devised was a square-based pyramid with one ball on top, resting on four resting on nine, which rested on sixteen. Thus, a supply of 30 cannon balls could be stacked in a small area right next to the cannon. There was only one problem...how to prevent the bottom layer from sliding or rolling from under the others. The solution was a metal plate called a "Monkey" with 16 round indentations.

However, if this plate were made of iron, the iron balls would quickly rust to it. The solution to the rusting problem was to make "Brass Monkeys." Few land lubbers realize that brass contracts much more and much faster than iron when chilled. Consequently, when the temperature dropped too far, the brass indentations would shrink so much that the iron cannonballs would come right off the monkey. Thus, it was quite literally, "Cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey." (All this time, you thought that was an improper expression, didn't you.)

posted by GalacticallyStupid at 9:50 PM Your Galactically Stupid Two Cents 3

Friday, March 16, 2007

This Is My Refrigerator Door...

...and it contains memories.


Funny how I didn't think about this for some time. When I was married our house was only 1320 square feet. Most of it was an open family room and the rest was three really small bedrooms and two bathrooms. But it suited us at the time.

One night I decided the refrig door needed to be reversed. Since I did all the cooking it made perfectly good sense to my ass. The youngest was already down for the night, but the eldest was up trying to learn the tricks of the trade and the ex was looking at me like I was getting ready to step on a land mine that would blow the place into timber sticks.

The point was this; stove was in the middle of the kitchen,against the back wall, but the frig opened toward the stove. Didn't make any sense. Why not make it open away from the stove so my ass could grab things and shuffle them where they needed to be.

So for about thirty minutes I enthralled the kid and infuriated the ex. She was sure I was going to fuck up the entire house. I had the eldest help with the screw drivers and had to listen to how the ex's father would never do this. Yeah, he's hire someone. All I heard was, "You aren't my dad". Nope, never wanted to be. But the door works the way it should. And your Dad never would have been able to do it. So shut the fuck up.

Made my cooking life easier. Someone else got to enjoy the fruits of my labor. He was history as well. I miss that house.

posted by GalacticallyStupid at 11:47 PM Your Galactically Stupid Two Cents 0

Friday NIght Bullets...

...for your reading pleasure, or not. I'm ornery and have a ferret up my ass.




  • That issue I was having with no internet connection. Turns out I can blame Bill Gates and his knappy-ass hormonal OS. Turns out someone in the complex installed a wireless router sometime between Monday night and Tuesday afternoon. I never noticed when I logged in. All I saw was that I was connected wirelessly. After spending two nights on the phone with Verizon techs with no satisfactory resolution, and 2 1/2 hours each night that cut into my drinking time, I came home last night and finally noticed that my wireless connection had a different name. When I opened the connections I saw that I was connected to someone else's router. Never had a warning, as I should have. No nothing. XP just latched onto it like a newborn to a nipple. Once I disconnected from it and connected to my VPN, waited three hours for a new MAC address from my internet provider and rebooted everything, I was back in business. I hate Bill Gates, but I'd fuck his wife, just because it seems fitting.

  • I don't care what anyone says, the CBS Nightly News cut it's own throat when they hired that self-absorbed twat Couric. NBC has a fill-in for Brian Williams named Campbell Brown. She's outstanding. Does the news. Doesn't make it about herself. Looks good. CBS should hire her.

  • This is my latest addition to the meager homestead. It's a combination air freshener/cleaner and humidifier. You add water to it, some sort of smell good shit and turn that fucker on. It actually cleans the air, so they say. Seems to work. Water gets dirty, I guess from cleaning out the impurities in my humble abode. Or it could be from my ass. Guess there's no way to tell.

  • I have an F-150. All Ford's since 1997 have a Passive Anti Left System. It means no one can steal your care. They can break in, but no way they can drive it away. There's a chip in the key that activates something that does something else. I'm all good with that. This morning when I got to work this little light kept blinking when I cut the engine off. It was the theft light. I've owned this damned truck for five years and I have never seen this. I called the dealer and asked if this was SOP. Never heard of it was the response I got. Did the requisite internet search. Nothing. Would make sense for it to blink, since it is an alarm, but how in the hell in five years did I miss it? Went and asked two fellow employees that recently purchased Mustang GT's. Yep, flashes all the time. Got home, after stopping at the store. No flashing. Ain't technology great.

  • I cut my hair tonight. I've been doing it now for almost three years. Zip, zip and I'm done. Oldest always wants to know how I get the back so even. No explanation, especially given the fact that my hands shake like I'm Michael Fox. I try to choke the chicken and I end up cleaning out navel lint. But I once worked at a screen printing place in my early twenties and the owner had an old codger employed as an artist and this gentleman's hands shook at the speed of light. I stood mesmerized watching him paint and wondered how in the hell he did it. I asked him once. He said if he didn't drink he couldn't paint, but if he drank his hands would shake and he'd paint even worse. So he just made up his mind that he'd drink and not worry about the shaking. Seemed to work. The guy was really good.



posted by GalacticallyStupid at 10:25 PM Your Galactically Stupid Two Cents 0

Tuesday, March 13, 2007

Noobs...I Hate Those Assholes...

...and I hate talking to them.


How does a perfectly good wireless internet connection just bite the dust? I know a little about them, and they just don't go Steve Irwin on your ass. It usually centers on your main modem, which I have, supplied by that stalwart Verizon. OK, tech support call, because I haven't changed any settings. But a few preliminary tests. Can I connect directly to the modem, with the wireless out of play. NO. Ok, so it's gotta be the modem. Reset it. Nope. Ipconfig /reset/renew. Nope. So, a call it is. The good bitch Ann talks me through the same steps I'd just done, just to make SURE. Nothing. So as she's drilling through her list of things to try I connect another ethernet cable from the wireless to the back of the laptop to see if hardwiring works. Bingo, but that makes no sense. If I can hardwire from the wireless I should be able to from the DSL modem. Go through level 3 and 2 technicians. Must be a problem with the Linksys modem. 2 1/2 hours later I gave up and said I'd have our IP guy have a look. Verizon sucks when it comes to tech support. I went through an issue a few weeks ago with their wireless phone section. I wrote about that. I'm leaning toward caveman status. This shit gets tedious after awhile.

ON TOP OF THAT, the dipshits that work out at the gym near the take-out place thought it would be a good idea to run me over as they were leaving their stress-relieving, booty-building let me show you my pecs/boobs workout crap they go through. I hate their asses. I could have gotten a front row parking place, but I parked at the end of the lot. Guess I was fair game. Fuck you prince and princess. It's coming, and it ain't gonna be pretty.
posted by GalacticallyStupid at 11:49 PM Your Galactically Stupid Two Cents 4

As If We Didn't Know This Already...

...here's a refresher. You'll have to click to enlarge.



posted by GalacticallyStupid at 7:01 PM Your Galactically Stupid Two Cents 2

Monday, March 12, 2007

Why Is It...

...that you're always taking your asses well-being in your hands when you eat Chinese food?


I had a dreadful experience a few years ago when eating it and it laid me up for three days. So I swore it off. But, knowing that the combination of broccoli and tomatoes is supposed to be good for PCa, I started in again. It went well, until this afternoon. I ate my leftovers from Friday and my bowels starting going south almost immediately. I suspect, given my sleeping history, that my colon will be laying on my work boots when I wake up tomorrow. I'll work around it.
posted by GalacticallyStupid at 11:02 PM Your Galactically Stupid Two Cents 2

Just One Night...

...I'd like to be able to escape my body and see what the hell I do to myself when I sleep.


I know I'm a thrasher. It's evident from the state of my covers. Those SOB's are spread across the room. This morning I awakened with a sprained calf muscle. How in the hell does that happen? Saturday morning it was more bruising on my arms. And all I have is a bed and a table in the bedroom. Not as if there's a lot of nick-naks and such that that I could bust myself up on. The bruises I can see, since I take a lot of stuff to thin my blood, but a calf muscle? I've been cramping all day. I hate being a weird ass sleeper. I ain't pissed myself yet, but it can't be too far around the corner. Me thinks it's time to invest in some Depends. I have no plans on waking up in a pool of urine. At least not yet.
posted by GalacticallyStupid at 10:32 PM Your Galactically Stupid Two Cents 1

Saturday, March 10, 2007

An Old Friend Called This Morning...

...and it made my soul happy. Now, if she'd just add me back to her yahoo list I'd be in heaven, instead of purgatory.
posted by GalacticallyStupid at 8:01 PM Your Galactically Stupid Two Cents 0

I'm No Genius...

...and never will be. Those that know me will confirm it. And the possibility of ever becoming one is certainly suspect. But I do have a curious mind, and I've often wondered why the gurus in the mind business are always bald. So I give you the top three...



...Ya reckon I need to shave my head? Maybe I'll just wait until I go through chemo. Either way, it puzzles me why we trust bald men. Just a thought.


posted by GalacticallyStupid at 7:12 PM Your Galactically Stupid Two Cents 0

Thursday, March 08, 2007

I Like Dogs...

...and I've owned two in my life. First one was named Finnegan and the other was named Chestney.


I owned Finnegan when I was in my early twenties. I purchased him at a pet shop at the local mall. A mixed breed, part Irish Setter, part mutt. Beautiful animal nonetheless. Back in the day you didn't have to do any of this leash stuff and pooper scooper shit. Open the door and out he went, to do whatever it is dogs do. Sometimes he'd be gone all night. He was a joy to have around. Affectionate, attentive and playful. Only problem was he was besieged by fleas. This bastard could come in the house and within minutes I would have hundreds of these little fuckers chomping on my arms and legs. Try as I may, I couldn't get rid of them. I fumigated, bathed the idiot and even did the now environmentally unthinkable and sprayed the apartment with a toxic insecticide. It got rid of the fleas. Damned near killed me and the dog from the residue.

When I decided to get married I couldn't bear to get rid of old Finnegan, but the ex didn't want an animal around, so my Mom said she would take him to the Farmer's Market and give him away. Bad plan. He knew his ass was in jeopardy, and while she was shopping for veggies and a new owner, ole Finnegan ate through all the seats in the car. That was one damned expensive dog that I no longer owned.

On to the "pure bread" Chestney. The ex's sister-in-law called one night and said they had a great deal on a Golden Retriever. Paper's and such, be great for the boys, yada, yada. As if raising a four year old and a two year old wasn't enough, she said "Hell Yes", we'll take it. So off I went, four days before Christmas, to gather this "present" for the boys. Damned near got myself killed at the end of my own street when some asshole came around the corner at breakneck speed and actually drove through the grass and into my turning lane. It was prophetic. I spent the night in Raleigh, went to dinner with the ex's sister and husband, had a few beers, and left the next morning with dog in tow; in a doggy box.

Once home, I had to clean out the garage, again, so the new addition would have a place to placate itself. Kids were young enough that they had no idea the young pup was even on the premises. On Christmas morning, after all the other thousands of presents were opened, I went out and got the puppy. Cutest thing ever and the boys were just beside themselves. For about two days. It wore off quick.

This damned dog grew at a steroid-induced pace. By three months it weighed 65 pounds. I fenced in the yard because the house could no longer handle him, nor could we. Then I built a doghouse for him out in the yard. He wasn't so enthralled with that. He wanted in the house to wreak his havoc. Boys wanted nothing to do with him, the ex that wanted him had nothing but contempt, and I was stuck cleaning up the shit that was left behind.

We got a call about a year or so later from the BIL that said it wasn't a pure breed. Bingo. Come get this fucker outta my life. And he did. Got a call a few months later from someone in Raleigh that said they had found my dog. HAH. I gave them the pertinent info as to whom they should call to come get the dog.

My point in this drivel? I ain't wanting no dog to fill a void in my life. Tits, yes. Dogs, No.





posted by GalacticallyStupid at 11:22 PM Your Galactically Stupid Two Cents 0

I Received The Title To My Truck...

...yesterday. First time in my life I've ever owned a car outright. Will have to spend more time keeping it in shape. Washing and such. Has to last me my lifetime.


Nonetheless, I now have something to offer as collateral. Not that I'll need it. It is what it is, but it's nice to be on the other side of is.
posted by GalacticallyStupid at 12:43 AM Your Galactically Stupid Two Cents 1

For Me To Go Out In Public...

...takes an act of my psychological congress.



I have to work myself up to it. For three weeks I've needed to get a pair of jeans. Just never could get over the angst of walking in the store. It's not like I can just walk up to someone and greet them. It don't happen.

Funny thing, however. When I can convince myself to do it I'm as engaging as can be. Today, for example. On the drive home from work I convinced myself that this was a good day to go forth and purchase my denim. On my way into the Sears store at the mall some poor woman came out the door and tripped over the threshold. Packages went flying. Simple enough to help pick them up and offer a "Careful". We laughed at her clumsiness. She didn't mind nor did I. Human stuff.

Once in the store I reverted back to my "get it done and get it done NOW". I rifled through the men's department and scarfed up what I needed in about 3 minutes. Once at the counter I was back in my "I will engage you and have a good time" mode. I bantered with the clerk and actually made her laugh on several occasions.

Wish I understood this shit. Sure would make it easier on my cerebellum.
posted by GalacticallyStupid at 12:16 AM Your Galactically Stupid Two Cents 0

Wednesday, March 07, 2007

Anyone Heard About This SkyWalk...

...they're opening at the Grand Canyon? Nah, me neither.


Seems the Hualapai Indian Nation has erected this monstrosity so tourists can walk out over the edge of a cliff and get a birds-eye-view of the rocks and water and such. It extends 70 feet over the edge and is about 4700 feet above the surface. I've never been to the Grand Canyon nor do I ever plan on going. Looking at rocks and such doesn't do much for my ass. But if I did go, I'll be damned if I'd walk out on this thing. I can go out and get one of those fountain thingys and look at it from the comfort of home, with my feet on the ground.

They say the Hualapai did it because they are so poor and needed the revenue from the tourists that will walk their asses out there. I'd say that as well. Point is, HOW IN THE HELL DID THEY PAY FOR IT'S CONSTRUCTION? That thing must have cost a fucking fortune. Hope they get their money back pretty damned quick. Liquor prices are going up.
posted by GalacticallyStupid at 11:55 PM Your Galactically Stupid Two Cents 1

Tuesday, March 06, 2007

BTW...

...my picture is on another blog. It's not this one. If you can find and identify it I'll contribute $50 to your charity of choice.
posted by GalacticallyStupid at 11:39 PM Your Galactically Stupid Two Cents 0

I Receive Alot Of Medical Catalogs...

...but they aren't the kind that offer dialysis machines or anything of that sort.


These are the kind that offer all sorts of off-the-wall products that guarantee to cure all my ailments. There are contraptions to cure ED. Not only expensive, but they look like they should require a license to use them. Pills to do the same. With an additional guarantee to add inches. That one is on the list. Not sure why. I'll have more luck trying to fuck a muffler. And I doubt the muffler will care. I believe I'll save the $29.95.

There's one that will get rid of the bags under my eyes. Some kind of vegetable ointment. I eat a lot of veggies. Seems like that would have the same affect. Don't see any reason why I should have to eat them AND put them on my eyes when I go to bed. I'll ponder this one.

There is one I'm excited about. It's a discreet male incontinence pouch. You wear it inside your undies and you can pee yourself if you so please. This one has promise. I'm not incontinent yet, but I sure do pee quite often. Be nice to just sit at my desk and let it fly. Tops on the list.

The one about the colon cleanse and the rhesus monkey is one I'll have to consider. I'm not much into shoving things up my ass, much less a macaque, but there are some nights after a few glasses of wine where it might prove interesting. I'll put an asterisk next to this one.




posted by GalacticallyStupid at 11:17 PM Your Galactically Stupid Two Cents 0

Friday, March 02, 2007

I'd Like To Buy...

a vowel. As a matter of fact, I'd like to buy three. While were at it, have Vanna take her top off.


Friday Night vowel bullets...



  • I've never seen the point in meetings. I've been through enough in my time. Nothing much ever seemed to get accomplished other than people relishing in the fact that they got to talk alot. Spewing forth their rhetoric about this and that. Then another chimes in and it changes the scenario. Lots of heads shake in agreement. Then another. And on and on. When it all ends, it always means more useless and repetitive work for the underlings. Let's undo what we just spent five months doing. I don't do the meeting thing any longer, but I am on the ass end of it. I'll buy an "O".

  • Part of my job is tech support, so I talk to people. I'm good at it. You have to rub them a bit so they feel like you are doing everything you can to alleviate their issue. I was on the other end of such an issue last night with Verizon Wireless. I haven't received my bill in two months for my cell phone since I sent the other one through the washer. I had the pleasure of talking to some chump named Chad, or some other yuppie sounding name, that was determined he was going to beat me down with his stellar voice and convince me my lack of receiving my bill was somehow my fault.

    Undeterred by my tirade, and a few interjected expletives, he was steadfast in his resolve that I was to blame for this scenario. When I asked to talked to his superior, he blew my ass off and said he didn't have time to go find her. Soo, with a good "fuck you", I told him to tell his supervisor call me at her convenience. Now, this is no shit, but thirty seconds later this asshole calls back and asks me if I still want to talk to his supervisor. Reluctantly, yet resolutely, I said OK. Then the shit hit the proverbial fan. It took about one minute of my railing about her young employee and how the customer is always right that she got my point.

    Guess what was in the mail tonight when I got home? The bill. How they did that I'll never know, but I'll buy a "U".

  • I can smell bullshit a mile away. The way a person projects themselves. How they look at you. Their mannerisms. Their contradictions. The way they walk around and act as if they have everything under control. How they have vowed to fix problems that never needed fixing. You can see it in their eyes. They just hope there's no one around that can peg them. Guess what? I'll buy an "E".


posted by GalacticallyStupid at 11:14 PM Your Galactically Stupid Two Cents 2

So March Is Coming In Like A Lion,

and we are under the gun for tonight.


But this isn't a post about the weather, as such. It's about the stupid things I heard people say about the tornado that hit the high school in Enterprise, Alabama.



  • I know God kept my baby alive because she needed to eat.

  • I heard something coming but I thought it was a bus.

  • I know the school was built really well because it was on cinder blocks.

  • I drugged two dead girls outta the school and I ain't feeling too right.

  • We'll never be able to replace the grass in the stadium.

  • I thought I was gonna die, but then I remembered I had a party this weekend, so I decided I wouldn't.

  • God does what he does because that's what he does.

  • I've never seen anything like this since Katrina. (editors note: this is Alabama)


Ahh well, that's what make people interesting.



posted by GalacticallyStupid at 12:21 AM Your Galactically Stupid Two Cents 0

Thursday, March 01, 2007

I've Never Been Into Porn...

and never been to a titty bar. My philosophy has always been if I can't touch them then what's the point. This lady was apparently one of the most lucrative porn stars of the 90's. Never seen any of her work. But this isn't about porn or boobs. It's about what lengths celebrities, and regulars for that matter, will go to to keep their looks. And in the end they look like corpses. I give you this lady today...


Attractive, isn't it? Why, oh why, oh why.
posted by GalacticallyStupid at 11:07 PM Your Galactically Stupid Two Cents 3