While driving in to work today, I saw a billboard that seemed to sum up talk radio. There was a picture of Saddam, Kim Jong-Il, and Osama. The caption stated: Now, more than ever - Reasons to listen to 640-AM. What does that mean? I mean, I know they do that for FM stations when they show artists that are played on the station. So, does that mean Osama does the Drive-at-Five show with Krazy Kim and his funny sounds? I sure hope so, b/c I figure those two have some pretty witty banter. I don't know who would listen, but all I have to say is that "I'm on to you, Al-Qaeda!"

Also, there's a anti-panhandling law in effect for downtown Atlanta. I wonder if you could citizen's arrest somebody for that?

Posted by Victor at 3:58 PM | Permalink | Comments

In an astounding turn of events, I have found a new way to goof off at work. Online slot machines. No, you don't win money. You just press the buttons and that's it. Yet, I still get super excited when I "win". Nasty fist-pumps are wildly thrown. Even an occasional "Yak-em!!" can be heard from my office. So, if the credits are equal to a quarter, I will have won $593.50 so far. Pathetic as this may sound, its even more so in reality. I think this obsession with slot machines may stem back to the time me, Grayson and Jimmy went to Missississisppixqii for some sinning. After blowing about $400 on slot machines, I wasn't a happy camper. I think the saddest image is that of me in the the casino eating my complimentary buffet by myself. $400 down the tube, and I get a cheap knock-off of Country Kitchen. Even the fried chicken couldn't turn that frown upside-down (it tasted of bitter defeat and body stank). If I recall, Jimmy just kind of shook his head when he walked up and just saw an utterly defeated man eating strawberry jello with a grape in it.

Yes, I realize that there is absolutely zero skill involved with slot machines. But hell, if grandma sitting next to me is willing to spend her children's inheritence pulling on the lucky arm, then why not me? Especially since I still feel I was this close to winning one of those novelty plastic checks that fateful night. It wouldn't have been the first time I've cried in a casino (damn you scary clowns from Circus, Circus!, I don't want a balloonimal!), but I was pretty close that day I missed the jackpot b/c I played one less line. I think that one of the goals for my life is to be on a wall in some Indian casino with a big cheese on my face and double thumbs-ups while being handed a biiiiig check. Either that, or get my face on the wall J and R's steakhouse for beating the 72-oz steak challenge.

Posted by Victor at 5:38 PM | Permalink | Comments

Welcome all. For first time viewers and old acquaintances, I must warn, you will be inundated with random musings and stupid observations. And also the occasionally ribald image.

But, to keep in vein with the holidays, I celebrated Turkey Day by myself. Before y'all shed tears of sadness, don't cry for me, Argentina. I decided to make a feast of my childhood faves that I haven't had in a while. So, I filled up on a mighty meal of Chef Boyardee pasta (Sponge-Bob shaped) and some Hawaii Punch. While I traipsed through the local grocer, I noticed an enticing dish called Turducken. Say it out loud and you should get the ingredients. Yes, it was an amalgamation of our favorite foul friends, turkey, duck and chicken! Somehow, a wild avian orgy resulted with this meat. And, it tastes exactly as what one would think sweaty interspecies love would taste like....delicious! Sadly, after some research, I was disappointed that it was just chicken stuffed in duck all stuffed in a turkey. My dreams of eating some spawn of unholy reproduction was a lie. My last parting thought is that IF it were truly a mix of all three, which bird would have been the do-ee and who would be the do-er? I'm not sure how this menage-a-trois would work, but needless to say, somebody out there is thinking about it right now. Perv.

Posted by Victor at 4:51 PM | Permalink | Comments