This is just hilarious.

Why Marxism Doesn't Work ala Onion-style (Warning: Salty Language)

WARNING!! GRAPHIC CONTENT ON THE LINK BELOW!!

Seriously, It's gotten horrible. I won't even post the pic on the blog, I don't want you to be unprepared for it.

When I think of the guy and the music he used to make (Off The Wall, Thriller), all I can think of the sheer joy and love for the music in his singing. I couldn't even begin to imagine the amount of self-hatred and loathing he had bottled up inside. Why would anyone voluntarily do this to themselves? I shudder to think what was going on in his head the last time he said to himself "Sure, I could use a little more work done".

Now every time I see him, I'm reminded of these words:

Your ears you keep and I'll tell you why. So that every shreik of every child at seeing your hideousness will be yours to cherish. Every babe that weeps at your approach, every woman who cries out "dear God, what is that thing?" will echo in your perfect ears. That is what "the pain" means. It means I leave you in anguish. Wallowing in freakish misery forever.

My friend and I from work were talking about the "stupidist moments" of our lives. Then I read Duane's post and it inspired me to write about the one that if it is not numero uno, then it's definitely in my top three.

A few years back, my friend Dave and I went to my friend Scott's house to pick up a couch & loveseat that we had just bought from him. Neither of us had access to trucks or vans, so we decided to rent a U-Haul truck for a couple of hours to assist us.

So we're driving around Orange County and we're feeling pretty good, puffed with the pride and happiness that all men share when they drive "big trucks". As we get near Scott's house, I realize that I don't have the money on hand to pay Scott for the couches. So I start looking for the nearest Wells Fargo and pull in to one that I used to frequent plenty of times. It had been long closed down yet still had a working ATM. So I get out and attempt to get money from the ATM, but it declines my request (yes, I had money in the account). I try a few different times, all to the same result...no dice. So I'm furious, how dare the machine deny my request for money, in front of my friend even, doesn't it know that I'm driving a macho truck? So I get in the truck fuming, slam the door, turn the ignition and floor it.

Now usually what I would do to leave the parking lot would be to drive around the side of the building, under the canopy of the drive-thru ATM and exit (you can already tell what's coming can't you?).

So, by habit, I do what I normally do...except the carport canopy has an 11' clearance.

The U-Haul was a solid 12'.

*CRUUUNNNNNNCH*

When I came to my senses, the first thing I found was that the jolt had misadjusted my glasses on my face. A deathly silence filled the air that Dave quickly broke, "Are you OK dude".

I didn't answer but shook my head and then I started to hear laughter, which I was amazed to discover to be coming from me. My first thought was “YESSSSS, I have insurance”, the second was to evaluate the damage. It couldn't have been too bad. No concrete fell from the impact. I imagined that the top of the truck's storage space was pretty dented, but these things are manly right? Strong...buff...it should be able to handle an impact such as this.

So I threw it in reverse and as I backed out I heard the sound of shrieking, twisted metal and the loud crunch of splitting rocks. A mix of plaster, concrete and metal (with some chicken wire thrown in for effect) filled the windshield. I then saw the canopy slam down on the hood of the truck then crash to the ground as I continued to drive.

There was much debate between Dave and I, as we cleaned the remaining chunks of rubble off the hood of the once proud truck, as to what we should do. Call the police, call the property management or...RUN, nobody had seen us, LET'S JUST GO MAN, GO! Alas, holiness won this round and I decided to call the police, as well as the property manager who was displeased to say the least. Thankfully the truck could still drive so I proceeded to Scott's house, who, when he came out, fell on the ground shaking with laughter when he saw what we did to the U-Haul. I admit that I couldn’t stop giggling myself (because of the shock I guess). Dave and I laughed the laugh of the damned all the merry way home.

The look on the U-Haul guy’s face as we pulled in was almost too much to bear. We had to keep a straight face, we just had to. There was no way we could hand the guy his keys back with tears of laughter streaming down our faces. So I sat there as he took out his “ding” sheet and sized up the situation.

U-Haul Guy: (grimly) Windshield crack approx. 13” long
Me: (trying to supress laughter) *SNORT*
UHG: (looks at me with disgust then turns back to sheet) Front hood caved in, rearview mirrors torn off. Top of attic has multiple dents
Me: *gurg* *SNORT* (takes deep breath)
UHG: I’m not going to be able to rent this out again today y’know.

It took everything I had not to say “Seriously?”, but that would’ve been unsanctified. Instead I muttered a somewhat convincing “Sorry”, handed him the insurance policy and took off for home.

So the moral of the story kids is: If you ever rent anything, be sure to buy the insurance.

What Theologian am I?

New Geneva Radio

Boy am I thankful for this ministry. You don't know how hard it is to get good reformed teaching on a radio station here in So Cal. This is the land of Calvary Chapels and wavy-gravy Christianity. As far as teaching is concerned, all we get that's worth anything on the radio is R.C. Sproul and Alistair Begg, and that's only for a half-hour a day.

I'm actually thinking of getting a cable connection so I don't tie up the phone line listening to this all day. One thing though, what's with putting Dr. Bahnsen teaching on Western philosophy at 12 in the morning. Don't they know that my brain is already mush at this hour? ;-)

We just got over the first big rain of the year where it rained off and on for the past 48 hours. The sun is back with a cloudless blue sky and warm sunshine pouring down (right now the temperature is in the high 70's) and we So. Cals couldn't be more thrilled. To hear some people talk, you would think that 48 hours worth of rain would be enough to put Noah back in business. Living in Southern Cali really cracks me up at times, except when it's time to drive.

Even though I personally prefer the rain, I certainly can't complain about the weather. I love bright, sunny, cool, breezy days and my only gripe is that I have work indoors all day so I can't enjoy it.

RUN...RUN...THE MONKEYS ARE COMING!!!!

All Non-Baseball Stats Geeks, skip this post!

Man, the Boston Red Sox were really starting to chap my hide. First they go and hire Bill James, one of the most knowledgeable statisticians in baseball (if you haven't read his Historical Abstract then go out and get it, but be prepared to abandon all of what you thought you knew about objective baseball research), then they tried to steal the best GM in baseball away from the Oakland A's. However it appears that Billy Beane is backing out from the BoSox and staying with the A's becasue of family reasons.

It seems that John Henry, the owner of the Red Sox, is adamant on recreating the Red Sox in the image of the Oakland A's. For those who don't know about the A's philosophy of club-building it is one that heavily emphasizes predicting player performance based on statistics rather than relying on more traditional scouting methods. Therefore batting average and RBI's are eschewed in favor of on base and slugging percentage as being a better tool of measuring productivity for the ballplayer.

Bill James joins Keith Law, formerly of Baseball Prospectus as being the only sabermetrician (from SABR, Socety of American Baseball Research) to hold a full-time postion with a MLB club. I hope this is a trend that catches on.

I wish the Dodgers would wake up and hire either Rob Neyer or one of the guys from BP to help them out with making sound baseball decisions. Dan Evans (current Dodger GM) seems to have proclivities towards objective statistical analysis which bodes well for the future of the Doggies. However, any team that gives Eric Karros a three-year contract extension that averages about 8 million a year, or Mark Grudzielanek a three-year $9 million contract, seriously needs this type of person on board to help them make rational, well-informed baseball decisions. To be fair to Mr. Evans though, those contracts were doled out during the Kevin Malone era, or what I like to call "The Age of Darkness and Sorrow".

Since many other bloggers are posting their Googlisms, I'll be a good sheep and post mine too. The concept of the googlism is to see what phrases from websites found on Google match to your name.

Oh these are freakin' hilarious:

rob is on the porch
rob is worried
rob is on the crest of a wave
rob is hooked on kites
rob is going down
rob is the lead guitarist in the band
rob is gonna be on david letterman
rob is a ****ing idiot with a welt on his hand
rob is not a mailbox?
rob is a skid
rob is lost nightrider
rob is the bomb
rob is a sexy bit*h
rob is running
rob is
rob is not
rob is an active composer and has written for clarinet and piano
rob is war 316
rob is in its final days
rob is the standard bearer
rob is retarded
rob is the creator
rob is hot
rob is the furry
rob is fab
rob is done like dinner posted on friday