A SOONER CELEBRATION!

It was a good day.

After I ran over a squirrel on my way to work, I went through my mundane exercise of "daily retail sales bartering" with a thousand or so idiots that don't know their ass from a spark plug and plotted secretly how to make random customers chase ghost "over the phone" diagnostic technical advice, a bad idea if I am in a pissy mood.

"You're car won't start? "Well, first off, will it turn over?"

They say, "Yes, but it just dies."

I say,"I am sorry, but it will cost you 7000.00 dollars, and it may void the warranty that you do not have."

They say,"But, I ain't got no warr..."

"And therefore you are fucked and you will be sad."

They say, "FUCK THIS, I'm going somewhe....."

"We'll tow you out to that bigass hill south of town and we'll let you go with a push down towards that narrow bridge. Them brakes might work, if you can "miracle" that fucker into runnin."

"I need yore credit card # to continue my diagnostic procedure, have a nice day."

"Next."


They grit their teeth.....









and then this walks in the door, and all activity stops, ...except for people using the bathroom IN ANOTHER ROOM, and others gawking and dropping stuff as she glides up to me.








"I need a part.." she purrs.

"I need ....you to change my rear end grease, lube my chassis, and line-up my front end,.. I'll leave it with you and you can take your time and do it slowww... and right."

FBI WARNING
At this point and time , all further material has been siezed by the FBI.

THE TRIUMVIRATE HAS AWOKEN

OKIE BONSAI

Hello ladies,

Long time no speaks, and this makes me sad, so it is time to rejoice and revel in the thought that we have all gathered in the realm of the Goddess, and all that "truly" know this and are helpless to our power cower in the dark and wail and lement for quick release from the tsunami of pain that we fart in their general direction.

Jac, I am tickled shitless over 3 things.

1. You haven't murdered anyone ....yet.

2. You have met Babs, and I am envious.

3. Mack Brown sucks bull semen.

Babs,

1. You have now been to West By Gawd, Texas.....by gawd.

2. You have met Jac and she is just a big sweetheart, (and she could kick nuts through a skull)

3. There is lots of cheese in West, I am coming back for some of that shit.

I am deeply involved in Fantasy Football now, so I am even more disturbing as I used to be when I simply blogged, now I am obsessive compulsive....more like Rainman every day.

I must tell you guys about my OU/Texas watch party.

We watched the game, grubbed a shitload of tailgate food and decided to play poker after the game. This dude named Bull breaks out bottles of Hot Damn and some Jagermeister.

MECCA

It de-evolved from that point on.....when I woke up on the couch with a mouth that felt like a Yak had taken a dump in it , through bloodshot eyes I saw Greg with his forehead planted on an invisible "dot" on the floor(arms straight out like an albatross), and I knew if I invaded his space he would spew like a fire hose. It was like he was praying to Mecca, ......to the North West.

It really didn't matter, he threw up in a summer cap, one that is perforated, that thankfully catches the "chunks". Bonus, huh.

Ain't football great.

Hugs and kisses, Sooner

THE NEWS

Satellite Searches Could Spot Bigfoot, Loch Ness Monster

Benjamin RadfordLiveScience's Bad Science Columnist

I have Britney's panties!
Adventurer Steve Fossett went missing Sept. 3 about 70 miles southeast of Reno, Nevada, in a small plane. He left no flight plan, and searchers have combed tens of thousands of square miles of Nevada and California. After weeks of fruitless searches, and with the survival window closing, Web users were enlisted to help in Fossett's rescue, from the comfort of their own homes. Using a program called Mechanical Turk, high-resolution satellite imagery of the search area was collected and analyzed. Participants were shown a single satellite image and asked to note any objects or wreckage that could be a plane or its debris. The search did solve a few mysteries: several previously unknown small plane wrecks—some dating back to the 1950s—were found. Though Fossett and his plane remain missing, the satellite technology used to search for him could theoretically be applied to other types of searches. It may finally verify the existence of large, mysterious creatures reputed to inhabit the globe. Unknown animals such as Bigfoot and the Loch Ness monster, for example, might be easily located and captured—if indeed they exist.

All fine and dandy. How about using the technology to find Osama Bin Laden, Jimmy Hoffa, Amelia Earhardt, an alternative fuel source, Waldo, world peace, George Bush's eternally damned conscience, the missing ozone, all the socks that have mysteriously vanished into the Drier Zone, my damned paycheck and Britney's panties.

Gabriele Pauli

Glamorous Bavarian wants law to allow 7-year itch

By Madeline ChambersFri Sep 21, 3:55 AM ET

ACH SCHTUUPP!!!
Bavaria's most glamorous politician -- a flame-haired motorcyclist who helped bring down state premier Edmund Stoiber -- has shocked the Catholic state in Germany by suggesting marriage should last just 7 years.
Gabriele Pauli, who poses on her web site in motorcycle leathers, is standing for the leadership of Bavaria's Christian Social Union (CSU) -- sister party of Chancellor Angela Merkel's conservative Christian Democrats (CDU) -- in a vote next week.
She told reporters at the launch of her campaign manifesto Wednesday she wanted marriage to expire after seven years and accused the CSU, which promotes traditional family values, of nurturing ideals of marriage which are wide of the mark.
"The basic approach is wrong ... many marriages last just because people believe they are safe," she told reporters. "My suggestion is that marriages expire after seven years."
After that time, couples should either agree to extend their marriage or it should be automatically dissolved, she said.
Fifty-year-old Pauli, twice divorced, is a maverick intent on shaking up her male-dominated and mainly Catholic party which has dominated Bavarian politics since World War Two.

She will be mine, but I will be lucky just to watch her have sex with her next 3 husbands, I still got 21 years or so.....

The NFL, Tony Romo and Fantasy Football

by me

ARE YA READY FOR SOME FOOTBALL?

FUCK NIKE!

How about some dogfighting, racketeering, D.U.I., conspiracy to murder, rampant steroid usage, spousal abuse, manslaughter, aggravated assault, rape, criminal mischief, gambling, drug abuse, and other criminal acts too numerous and heinous to discuss in a public forum. And DO NOT FORGET, "Making it rain." I am sure that I have missed about 37 other numerous felonious acts that have occurred just on Cincinatti's team alone in the last 5 years.

In a world that goes through the drudgery of merely existing with work, marriage, work, family, work, sleep, work, misey, and miniscule particles of joy and happiness sprinkled on our crap pile that we call life is a mangame called football.

We eat, shit and breathe it's essence and revel in it's glory. And we are also repulsed by how a few select athlete's, granted a rare gift of speed and talent and pue luck, can become instant millionaires and achieve a celebrity status of God-like proportions.

Let's just hope that in the future, these few lucky souls can learn to appreciate the rare oppurtunity they have like the other 98 percent of the players in the N.F.L.

HOW DOES THIS HAPPEN?

Jerry "skeletor" Jones bought the Dallas Cowboys for 140 million dollars back in 1989 and turned the franchise into a 1.5 billion dollar investment, and the N.F.L. has grown exponentially in turn. The largest sporting event annually will be the Super Bowl, so I assume it is ok for some N.F.L. athlete's to run over pitbull's that they are feeding their knocked up girlfreind's and ex-wives to while making steroids rain down on their piles of marijuana.

It is probably in their contract, by god.

Tony Romo and Fantasy Football

I got this theory that was discovered in a drunken slobbering state of complete stupidity one night while watching Deal or no Deal on N.B.C.

ROMO

I equated Tony Romo's success directly to a fantasy encounter with the 26 lovely ladies that wield the briefcases in the T.V. game show Deal or no Deal.

OK, let's do it by the numbers.

ROMO'S STATS:

As of week 4,

Passing-860 yards, 8 td's, 2 int.

Rushing-47 yards, 1 td

Fan Points-73

LEYLA

Leyla has eluded him by stealth and physical prowess, but Romo has nailed 9 of these briefcase slinging hotties by execution and timing, and her turn is coming. John Madden is sweating in his Horse Trailor stomping tubes of Tinactin and eating turkey legs frantically telestrating himself to a state of foaming-at-the-mouth ecstacy over the resounding looping "BOOM" bursts that are synchronized to tapes of Romo throwing and the Lovely Ladies opening their breifcases.

It's mine and Madden's fantasy, dammit!