Psycho Momia’s wild ride.

Getcher minds out of the gutter.

We got Psycho Momia’s ride back yesterday. It’s mostly drivable, mostly unharmed, and currently disabled as there is a likelihood that there are a set of keys floating around for it.
The damage thus far seems to be limited to the following:

  • the rearview mirror has been pulled of the windshield and through the headliner. In the process, a largish chunk of glass was removed from the windshield.
  • The drivers window was left open about 6 inches through the last storm, so there was a lot of snow on the drivers seat. Some had melted.
  • The punks used the center console/shift tower as an ashtray. I haven’t yet seen any burns elsewhere, but I won’t be surprised if I do.
  • the front plate and holder was torn off
  • the car now handles like the 100 year old roller coaster at Lake Compounce. Shaky, rattly, and harshly. The tards must have thought it was a real SUV.
  • A completely random list of stuff is missing:
    1. A handmade copy of Nine Inch Nails’ latest disc – the slip (with a custom case by me). There were a half dozen other NIN discs left behind.
    2. Blood Sugar Sex Magick and Suck My Kiss (CD Single). Again, there were 4-5 more Red Hot Chili Peppers discs in the car.
    3. My brand new, never made it out of the car after the show, bought from the man himself, copy of Voltaire’s “To The Bottom of the Sea”, with, you guessed it, several more Voltaire CD’s left behind.
    4. A bag of about a dozen Kids books. Naturally, they were bigger books – meant to keep small children busy on long rides.

I don’t have all the details on how it was found, but I do know it was found less than a mile away from here at an apartment complex.

From what I do know, and have surmised via little bits of info here and there, they have been driving it for the last couple of weeks. They put around 70 miles on it. They live fairly close by. The fucker who was last driving it was shorter than my mother in law.

In the end, I simply wish that the two of them live in interesting times. And get butt raped by Bubba.

I’ve got to bring it to the claim center, and see what they have to say.

Quote of the fucking week

Out of left field comes this:

I felt the audiophile CD. But it wasn’t warm. It was a silicone tit, not the real thing. Real boobs sag. The girls think we hate this. Along with stretchmarks and that roll of fat around their middle. Whereas this makes girls real. They’re built with a higher percentage of body fat. They’re made to give birth, to nurture. Who’d want to sleep with a ten year old boy? A STARVING ten year old boy?

A woman built for the media orders a salad and picks at it. A real woman savors her food, she evidences sensuality. Something that’s hard to see, but all men pick up on. The same way it’s hard to quantify why vinyl sounds so much better than CDs. You just FEEL IT!

From Bob Lefsetz, a cranky old A&R/Music industry guy.

He sums up something I’ve been saying for years. Yeah, I know I’m not the only one. But, it’s something that’s been on my mind alot since a conversation at work last week. One of my coworkers is in his late 20’s – and has never had a girlfriend. Here’s the deal – he’s more bear than Brad, if you catch my drift. Yet, if a woman is more the 5’5″ and 120lbs – she’s “unattractive”, and would never do. IMNSHO, he has reduced the field of possible applicants for the position of girlfriend to less than one percent, because of his buy-in to the media’s ridiculous female image. First up, there the problem of finding a breathing human who actually looks like that – when the “models” don’t even. They’re made up, strapped in, taped up and photoshopped beyond belief. They have surgery, injections, eating disorders. They are made, not grown. Add to that that that type of superficial female human will generally have the same falsified “ideal man”, and the shaggy haired, bearded 5’10” 250 pound guy has a negligible chance of ever meeting MS. Right.

When I mentioned that, his response was, “Oh, so I should just settle for someone who doesn’t meet my standards, then.” No, dude – your standards are unrealistic. Examine them and adjust them to the real world – or follow the road of plastic surgery, extreme dieting and move to where the “pretty people” live. Change yourself one way or the other.

I told him that some of the coolest chicks in the world hang out at Renn Faires – and his response was those chicks are all fat and scary. Yep some women at Faire are definately obese. Some horrendously so. Most are not. And if by scary, you mean unafraid to be themselves, to assert themselves, to be interested in more than soap operas, hair salons and keeping house, yep.

Bah. Fuck drag racing. I’ll stick to rally racing. Curves, hills, valleys and interesting scenery along the way. The journey becomes the destination – and the long winding road is the best way to get there.