Baboon Pirates

Scribbles and Scrawls from an unrepentant swashbuckling primate.

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Location: Texas, United States

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

When Corporations Try To Be Cool

It's Like Your Dad Wearing A Speedo At The Waterpark...

Humor website had a good post up recently about the crash & burn attempts by Corporate America to sell their products as hip & edgy.

I mean, if you're a dull & boring multinational, and you KNOW that you're a dull & boring multinational, how transparent is it going to be when you hire the latest hiphop thug to shill your product? Even toy companies who sell to kids constantly can crater upon occasion, like Mattel's attempt to turn Barbie's boyfriend Ken into a hip, stylin' dude, but ended up with Cock Ring Ken instead!

No, true guerilla marketing can't be planned for. It's got to be something that drops out of the blue, and is either pointless, tasteless, useless, or all three at once.

Something kind of like this:

No, it won't talk me into buying their product. I had a few too many pallet loads of Mill's Beast in college to ever have another one. OTOH, I'm amused enough by their "commercial" that when my young cousins come asking for cheap beer recommendations, I'll give the Beast the nod!

Monday, March 30, 2009

Burgled Butter

This Never Happens With Margarine...

Hammer's got a funny tale posted about a butter thievin' dog.

Reminds me of an incident when I was probably no more than 5 years old, living in Dallas. Somewhere along my short timeline I'd picked up a craving for saltines & butter. This might have been a restaurant-acquired habit. Back in the day most sit-down cloth napkin eateries had a basket of crackers on the table, and usually had a plate of wrapped butter pats or tubs.

A good way to keep a squirmy kid occupied is to give him something to gnaw on, so I probably tore through uncounted cracker packets while waiting for my kid's meal to be delivered. I'd usually get two or three butter pats, not nearly enough, in my worldly 5 year old opinion.

One day at the house I had this bright idea to get all the butter I wanted. I waited until Mom was next door at Aunt Toadie's house, then crept into the kitchen and heisted an entire stick of butter.

I remember dashing back to my bedroom, getting the thing unwrapped, and realizing it was melting in my hands and starting to drip on my blue rib-cord bedspread. Uh oh. Not good... Well, let's get to eating!

I kinda wish someone had taken my picture two seconds after that first big bite. The look of horrific disappointment mixed with nauseous despair must have been priceless. Let's put it this way, there was no second big bite...

Not knowing what to do, I managed to gag down about a tablespoon of butter, and get the rest re-wrapped (sort of...) in the foiled paper. What to do with the remainder? Can't go in the bedroom trashcan, Mom will find it. Oh, no! She's coming in the front door! WhatAmIGonnaDo??

So, I stuffed it under the bed. I can only assume Mom found it at some point. We were between dogs then, so no canine to the rescue.

I'd like to say that the incident taught me to use butter sparingly, but if you've seen me cook Hog Rotten 'Taters you know that's not the case...

Saturday, March 28, 2009

Kickin' It Old School

Saturday Night With YouTube!

The video quality is kinda spotty, but the music's first rate.

Enjoy a few tunes from Floyd Cramer and Chet Atkins!

Earth Hour Tonight!

One More Useless Hippie Endeavour

Tonight is Earth Hour, where we are asked to douse all lights at 8:30 pm local time to raise awareness about raising awareness, or something.

Feeling the urge to do my part, I've got the bank of portable shop lights outside in the driveway pointed skyward, and I'm looking for the extra garage spotlights to wire up in a hurry for a few hundred extra lumens.

Every light in the house is on, and I'll go fire up my V8 pickup and run my headlights as well.

Yes, the capacity for a$$holish behaviour runs deep, I'm afraid...

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Doggerel Antidote

Also Try Looking At Some Puppies & Rainbows!

Too much bawdy poetry can give you a sour stomach, so here's some adorable chilluns for an antidote.

Nephew Sammy

Niece Gracie

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

More Foul Doggerel

I Blame Barnacle Bill For This...

The Mayor blamed the Council for City problems still unsolved,
Most pressing being the desperate need to get their ashes hauled!

Hizzoner was a fondler, and liked 'em young & clean,
The Controller was high roller on the local bondage scene.

Fire Chief Brown would go down on anyone with blow,
Judge Wilsted liked being fisted with a bottle of Old Crow.

D.A. Ramsey boffed a ham she'd warmed up in olive oil,
Captain Bode blew his load dressing as a little goil.

Martha Faye from District A got her jollies banging goats,
Inspector Roth always got off with his unit stuck down throats.

Parks & Rec would grope & neck in all the City pools,
Solid Waste would add their taste by floating out their stools.

Librarians would raise some funds by selling filthy books,
Food Safety Clerks would ask for jerks from local restaurant cooks.

Councilman Larry liked 'em hairy, and smelling a bit like poo,
Secretary Edith matched the speed with cheetahs at the zoo.

Wastewater crews banged like shrews and lived for golden showers,
Public Works always lurks, then race out to jizz on towers.

"What can we do?" asked Public, John Q., "amidst this lust & sin?"
"Don't even ponder!" said Hizzoner. "You'll vote us right back in!"

We're Watching You!

Nowhere To Run To, Baby! Nowhere To Hide!

This is kinda creepy...

Sign by Danasoft - For Backgrounds and Layouts

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Online At The Office Again

How Many Games Of FreeCell Can One Man Play?

It took four days, but the IT wallahs finally got their act together and lit up the ethernet port in my office.

I had threatened to go have a one-man picket line in their office area if they didn't quit effing around and fix the issue.

I was going to stand in front of their reception desk wearing a sandwich board reading "IT = Ignorant Turds" and sing obscene sea shanties as loudly as I could.

It only took one verse of "Barnacle Bill" demonstrated to our department's IT liaison before they decided I was serious.

Hmmmph. Next time, I keelhaul the lot of them on Day 2.

Monday, March 23, 2009

Kosher Riot?

One Knish, Gefilte Fish, Smoked Fish, Jewish!

OK, this is pretty weird. I wouldn't be surprised if Erica was involved somehow...

Non-Kosher Hot Dog Incites Rage At Jewish Eatery
NEW YORK (CBS) ― It was an all-out frankfurter frenzy this week at a popular Jewish restaurant in Brooklyn, as a certain hot dog caused a near-riot.

It's not what you would expect: a worker in a NYC eatery caught on tape fending off a group of Jewish patrons with an electric knife.

"I was petrified – stuff was going through my mind," a patron who didn't want his name used said. "I want to live. I don't want to get stabbed for a hot dog."

The long-time patron says the chaos broke out when he and a rabbi noticed the frankfurters on the grill were non-Kosher, in a restaurant that's supposed to be dishing out the Kosher variety.

"The package didn't look Kosher," the patron said. "It was the last piece in the package."

Some customers were quick to defend the worker, who was surrounded by, according to some witnesses, a hundred enraged people.

You'd think they'd reach that same level of outrage over Palestinian homicide bombers exploding in Israeli supermarkets, but maybe I'm missing something in translation...

A Tasty D.Q. - Who Knew?

Come Over Here And Lick My Dilly Bar!

I've always seen Dairy Queen as a filthy disreputable restaurant.

Problem was, my opinion came largely from two Dairy Queens, the one in Haskell, Texas and the now-defunct one at Long Point & Gessner here in Houston.

Back in the day, we'd travel to Haskell for family reunions with Mom's kinfolk. DQ was literally the only place to get a bite in town. Those of you who traveled Texas highways 30 years ago will know what I mean. Remember stopping at a small town's only stoplight, where there'd be a farmer's land bank, a Ford dealer, a gas station and a Dairy Queen?

Problem was, that DQ sucked ass. It got even worse in the 90's when a Sonic opened on the north end of town, and lured away the kid business.

The one here in Houston was much the same. Too many years without a renovation, feckless staff, and an abundance of unscrubbable grime and tarnish.

Imagine my surprise when a random visit to a DQ here in town revealed a clean restaurant serving tasty food!

So far I've been to 4 different DQ's, and each one has been a place I'd recommend to others.

I stopped at the first one out of sheer curiousity. I'd heard a friend at work raving about the fried jalapeno strips, and went to see what the fuss was about.

Well, I passed on the peppers, but rediscovered The Dude. A huge chicken-fried steak sandwich. Damn tasty!

Even better was the chiliburger served with fresh red onions and a wad of those dip-sized Fritos chips. Outstanding!

The ice cream? Well, not as tasty as I remembered from my youth, but I've been spoiled by Haagen Dazs and Ben & Jerry's, I suppose.

So, stop in and try a Dairy Queen. It might surprise you!

Sunday, March 22, 2009

Refund Denied!!

Don't The Bastards Know That April 15th Is Buy-A-Gun Day??

I finally got my letter from the Infernal Revenue Service letting me know they're keeping my refund for their own nefarious purposes.

Actually, it was not entirely unexpected. I knew they were going to have their filthy hand extended for a payment on my 2002 tax debt that's been festering on the books.

So, bad news is no money from Uncle Sugar this year. The good news is that my outstanding balance is only $120. Six Jacksons. That's all.

I could cut 'em a check today and have that off my shoulders. Or, I could continue to stall, trading $20 in interest for the pleasure of another year of the one-finger salute at the IRS.

Shouldn't be too hard to guess which one I'll select...

Sunday Morning

Hey, At Least I'm Honest About It...

Ah. A fine Sunday morning! The sun is up, the skies are clear, it's cool and slightly breezy outside, the birds are chirping merrily...

All in all, a perfect day to get outside and catch up on some chores!

Which is precisely the reason I'm going back to bed. Hard work pays off in time, but laziness always pays off NOW!

See y'all in a few hours.

Friday, March 20, 2009

Still Here, Sort Of...

Calgon, Take Me Away!!!

Various events conspire to keep me from blogging, but here's a quick update:

Hammer's back online. Yay!

Graumagus is still alive, and should return to blogging soon. Yay!

Friday Fiction is back. Yay!

Finally saw 'Watchmen'. It didn't suck. Yay!

Kinky Friedman is playing at the Mucky Duck tonight. Yay!

One of the cats crapped on the bathroom fuzzy rug. Boo!

Obama hates our servicemen. Boo!

More later, assuming they fix my network connection at the office. Not that I'd ever blog from work, you understand...

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Barragh O'Bama

Instead Of Guinness & Whisky, It's Weed & Blow!

A repost of an earlier item, in honor of Obama's multiple St. Paddy's Day parties at the White House. In light of his recent decision concerning treatment of veteran's insurance benefits, I can only assume he's been nipping at the poteen for some time prior to the parties.

Monday, March 16, 2009

Just For Fun

'Cause Tweaking Eric Never Gets Old!

I haven't given the Straight White Guy a reason to call me a hammerhead in a while, so I ought to rectify that situation...

Just for you, dude...

Next time, we go after Erica for spending all her time with that seductive succubus called Facebook, and ignoring her blog!

Saturday, March 14, 2009

Situational Awareness

#1 Ignored Rule Of Every Horror Movie!

Friday, March 13, 2009

Emerald Eyes

Actually, I Kinda Like Dark Eyes Myself.

I saw something quite frightening last night. I mean, not the piss yourself and shiver in the corner frightening, just the a bit of creep-inducing uneasiness.

This lady I met at a meeting for one of The Man's cabals was wearing colored contacts, and the effect it had on me, while striking, was probably not what she intended.

They were contacts of an impossibly bright green. They looked kind of like this:

I'm sure she wanted to be seen as exotic and mysterious. I didn't get that.

This is what I saw:

So, just a word to the wise. When you get those new contacts, put them in, then go have sex with your husband or boyfriend afterward. If you feel an urge to kill him, or if he's in deadly fear for his life, maybe you should send the contacts back and get a different color...

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Caption This Photo!

Yet Another Attempt To Drive Up Traffic Through Poor Taste...

Adult film star Filly "Zero Gag Reflex" Ayshio could suck a golf ball through a garden hose and lick the chrome off a trailer hitch, but completely deflating an elephant would be the pinnacle of her career!

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

2009 Cockpunch Awards

Some Blogposts Just Write Themselves...

If you glance around the Blogosphere, you'll frequently see an awards page offered up by a blogger aimed at recognizing the bottomfeeders of society. You know, the "Dimwit Of The Day" type of award.

I'd like to start a set of awards for the myriad of offenders out there, but merely chastising or exposing to public ridicule won't cut the mustard.

Nope, I want physical violence. Actual pain inflicted on the hammerheads in return for inflicting upon the world their cretinous thoughts or actions. One mighty blow straight to the yambag, unimpeded by shield or cup.

So, I propose the Baboon Pirates Cockpunch Awards. Do something ridiculous, get a fist to the crotch. Repeat if necessary.

For an example of a world-class cockpunch, watch this two-minute film. This treatment is what should await our offenders.

So... without further ado, here's the first batch of recipients of the Baboon Pirates Cockpunch Award!

1) Whoever spit out their chewing gum on the sidewalk.
You nasty, nasty motherfucker. Do you have any idea how long it takes to dig out Bubblicious from the sole of a boat shoe? Keep the gotdam wrapper in your pocket, and find a trashcan, you douchebag!!

2) People who use the contents of their paper shredder for packing material.
Thanks, dickhead, I'll be picking tiny pieces of your credit card statement out of my carpet for the next year 'cause you're too effin' cheap to buy some foam peanuts. Get off of eBay, you douchebag!

3) Dog Shit Darlene
Look, I don't advocate violence towards women, and they lack cocks to punch, but this douchebint let her dog take a squat right in the middle of the Memorial Park jogging trail, and after it had grunted out a huge steamer, she just left the turdpile there for people to step in. Lady, we have laws about that kind of thing. You either get a crotch-punch, or else we fill up your jogging shoes with warm dog turds, and you run the entire park trail in them for a week.

4) The Jonas Brothers
Hey, there's this really cool stuff called heroin. Y'all need to look into it. Do a whole bunch right off the bat. Don't dick around with skinpopping or chasing the dragon. Go full monty right from the get-go & mainline that warm gun. It'll improve your songwriting skills 1000%. Honest!

5) Senator Chris Dodd
Y'know, at first it looked like you had just a thin veneer of corruption. As time goes on and your web of chicanery is revealed, however, it looks like your filthy douchebaggery goes clear to the bone. If you had any sense of honor or decency, you'd resign your seat, go home and put your head in the oven. Instead, a cockpunch for you. And Charlie Rangel...

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

If It's Too Loud, You're Too Old!

11? Fuck That. Turn It Up To 12!!

Here's some antidote for some of that Jonas Brothers crap that's been festering around lately...

Monday, March 09, 2009

Wow. Courtesy. Who'da Thunk It?

Next Surprise, A Random Pay Raise Of More Than 1.5%!!!

Well, that was certainly an unexpected phone call!

Let's back up to last week for an explanation...

I had a presentation last Friday afternoon, guest starring some Legal Beagles who were going to help me twist some arms and get some wayward minions of The Man back on the straight & narrow.

The presentation had already been postponed once, due to conflicts with the Beagle's massage therapy, or perhaps their tee time. Who knows. I'd been promising this seminar since last fall, and it was finally going to be struck off my "To Do" list.

Legal Beagle #1 requests I supply the means to project Powerpoint slides upon a screen. OK, no problem. We have a laptop & an Infocus projector, and if the facility I've reserved doesn't have a screen, they've got a big white wall. Got it covered, I just need to reserve the gear.

Luckily, the presentation gear is free that afternoon, but it's currently over at Remote Site #1. Remote Site #1 isn't all that remote, it's not but 4 blocks away, but there's no parking, and I'll be damned if I want to schlep gear over in what's turning out to be an 85 degree day. Besides, just as with the fleet vehicles we share, you bring it back to where you checked it out, namely our IT flunky in the office around the corner.

So, realizing that a bit of diplomacy, bureaucratic chicanery and outright apple-polishing will get me what I want, I email the IT flunky formally requesting the gear, and ask that she use her incomparable tech skills to inspect it and test it before I pick it up from her office. I CC my boss, her boss and the Senior Flunky over at Remote Site #1.

The email has the effect I desire, in that someone other than me walks the gear back to our office. I email the IT flunky and let her know I'll pick it up, and not to worry about testing it. Mistake #1!

I also get a testy email from Senior Flunky over at Remote Site #1, indignantly informing me that the gear is in tiptop shape, is always left in order, and I need not worry.

So, I don't worry. Mistake #2!!

I get over to the presentation facility with 45 minutes to spare, plenty of time to set up everything. They do indeed have a screen, and things are going swimmingly.

Right up to the point where I try to connect the laptop to the projector...

Cable? Where's the got-dam video cable??!? I call the IT flunky. Where's the cable?

The cable, she is not here.

Lost forever 'neath the streets of Houston, it's the cable that never returned... until Monday morning.

Cut to the presentation 30 minutes later, where an extremely annoyed Legal Beagle is attempting to use a 14" laptop screen to instruct a roomful of Minions on the finer points of employment law.

El Capitan is using crumpled up copies of the presentation notes and bitter tears of rage to fashion a voodoo doll of Senior Flunky in preparation to skewering his liver out with a spork and cooking it with a Zippo for having the temerity to sabotage the roadshow.

And then, of course, is when the cavalry showed up.

IT flunky finds in the deepest depths of the Obsolete Tech Closet a late 90's vintage Infocus projector. It has power supply, vid cable, and powers on. IT flunky grabs a driver from one of the idle staff and has herself chauffered over to the facility I'm at, about 5 miles away, and comes swooping in with the replacement gear. We've got the show up on the screen within 5 minutes of her arrival.

Things are not perfect, the image geometry of the old projector has a perma-skew to it, so much so that I have to wedge my cell phone under one corner, leaving the whole shebang tilted like one of those Balancing Rocks out west just to keep the image on the screen.

Naturally, this is exactly the moment that the Cisco Kid calls on my cell to remind me about Friday night's poker game. The Legal Beagle's presentation is interrupted by my ringtone, "Scotland the Brave" emanating from under the projector, and quite out of reach. I somehow get it turned off without tipping over the projector...

Luckily, the rest of the afternoon passed without further incident.

So, after all that hullabaloo, they find the missing cable over in a Not-So-Senior Flunky's office at Remote Site #1, and I receive a phone call this afternoon from Not-So-Senior Flunky to apologize for mishandling the equipment and nearly scuppering my roadshow.

The apology was a gracious effort on their part, but I have to admit I would have rather heard it from Senior Flunky instead of him pawning it off on an underling, even if she was ultimately responsible.

Besides, I've still got that voodoo doll...

Sunday, March 08, 2009

Wrapped In Plastic

Paint Fumes: An Acceptable Bourbon Substitute?

I really dislike home remodeling. Since the kitchen's mostly complete, attention has now turned to the bedrooms. I came home Thursday night to find the computer room stripped of carpet, the electrical outlets pulled & taped over, and the modem, router, & my computer shoved aside & completely enveloped in plastic.

So, no online access for a day or so. I used the wireless card on the laptop to sniff out an unprotected network somewhere on this block, but I didn't want to leave any obvious trails, so no links to my ISP's mail server or any blog or Facebook time.

Carlos the Unreliable, our intrepid contractor, hasn't shown up this morning to finish priming the walls, so I snuck in, peeled back the plastic and will do as much surfing as I can before the paint fumes drive me out!

Carlos was supposed to build bookshelves yesterday, but apparently the money for the lumber got spent on something else, probably the wall texture stuff, or the paint. I'll be glad when Housemate #1 gets back from Dallas and resumes labor negotiations. I don't have the patience or inclination. My Spanish is improving, though...

Thursday, March 05, 2009

Navy Beans & Ham Hocks

Beans & Dead Pig. Can Life Get Any Sweeter?

I haven't posted a recipe in ages, so let's correct that oversight...

I got to thinking about all my grandmother's wonderful home cooking recipes that I'll never get to eat again unless I get off my duff and make them myself. Fortunately, there's a small metal box in my possession crammed full of 3x5 index cards in her precise penciled script that holds 60+ years worth of tasty treats, including a version of this dish.

If you're from the South, or just passing through, sooner or later you'll have to deal with a ham hock. Ain't no big thing, it's not like it's hog jowls or chitlins. Just think of it as a really small smoked ham, with twice the usual amount of tendons, fat & skin.

This dish goes well with cornbread, but I'm sorta partial to saltines with my Navy beans.

Navy Beans & Ham Hocks

You'll need:

2 lbs dry navy beans (the little white ones)
1 gallon hot water
1 1/2 lbs smoked ham hocks
1 big yeller onion, chopped in 1/2" dice.
2 tablespoons salted butter
salt and fresh ground pepper to taste
Maybe some red pepper sauce, if you like that sort of thing.

To make it:

Get yourself a big ol' pot, pour in the gallon of water, and light a fire under it. While it's getting hot, sort through your beans and toss out any rocks, discolored beans and DamnYankee weevils.

Put the beans in a colander or strainer, and run hot tap water over them until the bean hulls start to look a bit cooked. They'll turn whitish/clearish. Dump 'em into the big ol' pot of water with the ham hocks, and simmer over a low fire for 3 hours, one football game, or 4 loads of laundry, whichever ends quicker. Scoop out any floater beans and skim off any foam.

Fish out the ham hocks after 3 hours and let them cool a bit. Cut the meat from the bone, chop it up, and dump it back in with the beans. Try not to "sample" more than half of the meat. I toss the bones back in, just for added flavor.

Heat up your butter in a skillet, and brown the diced onion. The onion pieces will be translucent and, well, brownish. Dump 'em in with the beans & hocks.

Just before you're ready to eat, kick up the fire to HIGH, and bring the beans to a boil before dishing it up.

Serve in big bowls, and enjoy!

"Kin ah have summa dat beenz & ham hawks?"

Of course you can, little one!

Tuesday, March 03, 2009

Difference Of Opinion

One Must Indulge One's Inner 8 Year Old...

Bit of a tiff developing around Casa Capitan over my choice of ceiling fans for the spare bedroom/library. My original choice was a 5 bladed flush-mount model, with wide blades that looked like woven rattan. Until I saw this fan in the catalog...

It's a F4U Corsair. The prop blades are 48" in diameter, the wingspan of the airplane twice that. It'll cover most of the ceiling!

OK, I'm willing to admit as a 40 year old consumer that this might have limited or even negative impact on home resale value. To be blunt, I don't give a fig. It's way cool, and I want it!

What's even cooler is that I can move the circular A/C vent in the ceiling right next to the fan hub, and have a gull-winged version of the Hawker Typhoon, which is even cooler!

Monday, March 02, 2009

Reloading - The Fun Begins

Another Hole To Pour Money In!

After a couple of false starts, it looks like I'll be entering the obsessive world of metallic cartridge reloading.

The Cisco Kid & I agreed to go halves on a Lee Progressive reloading press. This is one of the presses with the removeable turrets, where you install your decapping, sizing & crimp dies on the turret, then swap out turrets for each caliber, rather than go through a lengthy setup each time. Costs a bit more, but should be more efficient in the long run. I'm starting with .45 Long Colt, and following with .45 ACP & .38 Special. If things go well, I'll consider adding a couple of rifle calibers.

I dearly love to shoot my Ruger Vaquero six-shooter, but with commercial .45 Long Colt ammo running nearly $1 per round, it's been gathering dust for the past year or so. I'm hoping that I can cut the cost in half.

I've got 600-700 empty cases that just need decapping and cleaning, and when the turret gets off backorder, I'll see if I can't press out 200 rounds or so. I've got about that many lead round nose bullets in a coffee can. Eventually, I'd like to get a lead melting pot & a bullet mold and start making some Keith-style 300-grain bearkiller rounds.

Cisco Kid has got the press set up, and got 50 rounds of 9mm loaded over the weekend. I'm waiting for a range report to see if he got it right, or if he's having chunks of Browning Hi-Power removed from his epidermis. We shall see...

If any of you lurkers are reloaders, your hints & tips are more than welcome!