This is why the East Bay sucks

I have never heard of an exploding freeway on-ramp in San Francisco.

Those wacky eastbayers.

My Endorsement for President

I know many of you, and by “many” I mean the three people who actually read this blog, are wondering who I am going to vote for President in 2k8.

Is it Obama, Hillary, or maybe even Kucinich? They all look good. But, they don’t look great.

Two Words. A first name, and a last name. Hillary Rodham Clinton? Three names, not my style. Dennis Kucinich? A name of a pussy, not the name of a leader. How about Barak Obama? I like him, I do. But he lacks the panache that our president needs.

Come November I am going to be voting for Al Goldstein. I think his slogan sums it up best when he says “Al Goldstein for President. Because when he’s fucking you, you’ll know it.”

He is truly a dirty old candidate.

Some presidential candidates have articles written about them in Time, Newsweek, The New York Times. But Al Goldstein gets written in Screw Magazine.

Watch the most amazing political interview ever.

Al’s take on Hilary Clinton.

To learn more about Al Goldstein, visit his website at www.goldstein08.com/

Riding Dirty....Pt 2

A dream I had…..

Ever since I can remember I have been having really fucked up dreams. I’m talking dreams on acid watching a David Lynch film eating wavy gravy ice cream….yeah, that kind of fucked up.

Now back to the lecture at hand. My dream. I always dream. But this dream stood out. I was at an arena for a concert of some sort, yet there was no music and there was a decent amount of people, yet no over crowding. Oh yeah, did I mention the end of the world was five minutes away, cause that’s important. The end of the world was 5 minutes away. I think it was because of a meteor or something. The people at the arena, oh yeah, it was out doors, like the tweeter center, they were a little panicky but no running around screaming. They were all like “oh, so it's gonna' happen in like 5 minutes?” And everyone responded by saying things like “looks like it”, something a farmer would say when the cows are acting strange.

But I digress.

Let’s regroup. The world is ending in five minutes. I am at an outdoor amphitheater. People are calm. What do I do?

I shit my pants, literally. In my dream I am wearing shorts and I get horrible liquid diarrhea. I’m talking sliding into first and feeling something burst type diarrhea. I am not shitting my pants because of my inevitable death, I must have ate something and that’s what gave me the diarrhea because my main concern is that there is liquid shit running down my leg and everyone can see it. This is embarrassing. I am totally humiliated. My concern shifts from the diarrhea running down my leg to me worrying what everyone is going to think. Oh god, I need to clean this up. The world is ending and I am freaking out 'cause I can’t find paper towels, oh this can’t be happening, this is so embarrassing. Everyone is looking at me laughing as I scramble to try and clean the mess that is running down my leg.

I wake up.

Now I’m freaking out because I think to myself, what if I had diarrhea in my dream because I actually do have diarrhea and I just took a crap in my Boston Red Sox PJ’s?

I check. The coast is clear. Crisis averted. But at least I am now prepared for the impending apocalypse.

Are you gonna catch me riding dirty?

No, I dont think so.

Anyway, it’s been a while, and its not my fault. The blogger website changed the way you log on to your blogsite. You see, you need a gmail account to log in. But I don’t have one, and I don’t want one. I tried beating the system and sticking it to the man for a while to no avail, and no blog posts either. So I caved. I signed up for gmail, and now I will hopefully be blogging more. Hopefully.

Well, this isn’t really funny, but here is something that is.