Month: July 2018

Hotel vs. Motel- THE GREAT DEBATE

HOTEL VS MOTEL (DRUMROLL PLEASE)

So yeah I suppose each of them has their own charm, their own pleasures in their own ways. I’m not really which one I like better because well it depends on who I am with (or not with) what it is that I am doing and who I am doing it with.
HOTELS

Hotels for the most part are not my preferrences unless I am by myself and want to remain as anonymous as possible or if I am with a party of 8 or more people, which is not all that often honestly. Basically if it is going to take 3 cars deep of people in order to party I like hotels better.

Unless they are non-smoking.

I’m sorry but at least 10-20 percent (I have no clue of the exact number) of our population smokes and when you add in things other then nicotine I’m sure the number increases substantially. So I believe it is really dumb for ENTIRE hotels to be non-smoking.

First of all, it is really annoying to have to wake up in the middle of the night, put your clothes back on, go down 8 floors in the elevator, parade yourself around in front of the staff and then go outside to smoke with some 50 year old businessman who you’d rather not be smoking with. Of course smokers really have no choice who to smoke with now as we are herded behind ropes and then when we walk one foot away from the “designated area” are told we are commiting an offense. Oh I didn’t know the air over here was completely clean, I mean you know I’m sure that 3 mph easterly wind is not fucking with it.

Then there is the stairwell. The stairwell is a fun place to smoke for about 2 or 3 cigarettes, then when you and 2 other people have had 9 cigarettes and you hotboxed the bitch thoughts of the smoke alarm going off, well this sucks.

And all these hotels with the $150 clean air cleansing fine if you do smoke….well if you want to get around that find a prepaid card that will let you charge the room to it or a credit card you are about to go bed on. Instantly your room is smoker friendly!!!!!

Hotels do tend to have onsite restaurants, gift shops, overpriced cigarettes (on occasion), and Internet access.

Of course most hotels do have the “FUCK OFF MAID” thing to put on the door. Not all motels do.

MOTELS
Which leads me to motels…..not all motels have the “FUCK OFF MAID” door thing. Usually this tends to be the ones with maids that are mainly non English speaking and do not understand the words FUCK OFF. Of course, I wouldn’t say that to a maid. I’d probably come up with something more clever that she wouldn’t understand like, “Get the hell out of my bodybag or I like my room like I like my meat. Raw.”

And they always come at the most inopportune time like when you are having sex or while you are doing something in the bathroom or while you are doing shots or well you get the point, maids have an innate ability to arrive when you are either taking care of bathroom stuff or fulfilling one of your vices.

There does seem to be a much greater selection of amenities in the rooms of motels then hotels though. Like I have a microwave, a refridgerator, a set of burners AND glasses and dishes here. These people obviously know that if you are staying in a motel obviously you don’t have the big cheese to go out and get lavish meals.

Also large groups of people are much better for hotels, as if you’ve been to 4 or more motels, you probably will encounter the hawkish owner who watches your every move and if anymore then the amount of guests you said are in the room for 2 minutes or more calls the room or does something assy.

Of course if you are in it for a quickie, you gotta love the motel but I’ve been retired from that business for quite some time.

The maid is about to bomp on the door and I’m sure I missed 3000 things to bitch about but I do have to say this. Even though I like hotels slightly better, I have to say I just picked a winner. There is pizza and beer in the lobby tonight!!!!! How can you top that???

So if anyone is reading this, tell me your pick…..

My personal favorites for hotel is the Borgata in Atlantic City, home of the most comfortable bed in the universe, 50 cable channels (a near record for a hotel), food, spas, bars (none gay though-oh well), and well of course gambling.

Motel is the Swiss Cottage in Niagara Falls,NY. You can’t beat 70 channels, a fridge, a microwave, 24 hour coffee, donuts for breakfast, $35 a night rooms, and an average of less then 4 bugs killed in your room per week. Oh and a staff that minded their own business when I had ummm company, maids that spoke English, and well a $20 tip to the maid instantly transformed my room into a smoking room with her donning me the gift of her industrial sized ashtray. Amen sister. Amen.

By SpaceDog 

Treacherous Toyota and Prius Propaganda

10 years ago Toyota introduced the World to The Prius, and simultaneously perpetrated one of the greatest Scams the American Public has ever known. Toyota struck with the Prius right as the GIANT FUCKING MONSTROSITY SUV craze was dwindling due to rising gas prices at the time.

Also people still felt guilt as hell about their part in fucking over the Earth with their glutinous consumerism so the terms “Going Green” and “Carbon Footprint” were just taking hold as they slowly entered the American Lexicon.

So of course Toyota formulated a 3 Prong Attack strategy to get as much as possible from their new vehicular sensation. Toyota wasn’t fucking around either, they were going for the Long Haul.

The first Point in Toyota’s 3 Point Plan was the most obvious which was to capitalize on Prius Hybrid Hype like a son of a bitch. Toyota made sure as shit to Advertise and EXPLOIT THE SHIT OUT the unparalleled gas milage, and the interests of the new surge in Environmentally Conscious Customers.

Bottom Line: Toyota did its best to Flood the fucking market by getting as many Prius’s on the road as humanly possible. Toyota was effectively Force Feeding their Product to the American Customer. The word Hybrid was on the tip of everyones fucking tongue.

But really thats no fucking different than any other Car Manufacturer with Cars to sell. Nothing new there. Toyota luckily had hit the PR jack Pot, BUT as I said Toyota was in it for the Long Haul.

Toyota wanted not only to capitalize on the 1st series Prius’s they wanted to help cement the future sales of subsequent future Prius series.

Now we all know how much a Car Dealership fucking sucks. Their inconvenient as hell, and the Most EXPENSIVE when it comes to repairs. Toyota’s second part of their plan was much more devious than just selling the shit outta cars while pissing gas on the PR fire as it were.

Toyota moving quietly and staying of the Radar started to recruit any and all  graduating Mechanics who had been trained to work on hybrids to their Dealerships. See by poaching all the new hybrid mechanics Toyota set up a system that made the customer HAVE TO USE THE DEALERSHIP REPAIR SHOP because their were virtually NO HYBRID Mechanics working outside of a said Toyota Dealership.

The Bottom Line: Toyota was creating its own monopoly of Hybrid Mechanics.

Now the 3rd and final part of Toyota’s plan for longevity was the most underhanded yet. Now you have to remember that Hybrid Cars were a brand new technology, and like with anything new people were a bit afraid of it. The main thing that the Public seemed fixated on was the Hybrid’s High Voltage Battery.

In the Brain’s association game it hear High Voltage and immediately draws a parallel to the High Voltage wires that run along Telephone Poles and similar shit. We have all seen the bright orange warning signs before that read “DANGER HIGH VOLTAGE WIRES” usually with a Triangle with a lighting bolt zig zagging through it. SO right from the get go the fear factor is in play.

Toyota preyed upon this psychological fear until it reached an Urban Legend Level. The fear is pretty basic. Its the fear that some how or some way (especially if your a Auto Mechanic) will come in contact with the High Voltage Battery and electrocute themselves to an unpleasant death.

Yet like all things the fear evolved getting worse with each subsequent version. It got so out of control that it created paranoia through out the entire Automotive Mechanic Industry.

As if to say if a unfortunate Mechanic came in contact with the High Voltage Battery that he/she would be electrocuted to the point your skin burned. And your eyes explode as your intentions shoot out your ass like a fucking shot gun show down at the High Voltage Hacienda.

Not only that but due to the accident at hand the Mechanics entire extended family would contacts full blown Aids, their House would burn down, their car would blow the hell up,the mechanics friends would all die in horrible ways, and their dog would be picked up by Animal Care and Control and Euthanized.

Like I said this perpetuated fear of the High Voltage Battery not only urged the Public, BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY it reenforced the idea Toyota had set out which was “Only a Trained Toyota Dealership Mechanic can Work Safely on a Prius. This discouraged the competition from even entertaining the idea of even trying to learn more or less work on Prius’s.

The GOOD NEWS is Toyota’s Hybrid Mechanic Monopoly and the Age of High Voltage Battery Paranoia is slowly but definite End. Now that a growing variety of Toyota’s competitors have Hybrids of their own Toyota is no longer Unique.

Also the issue with the poaching of Hybrid Mechanic Grads is phasing it self as well. As more and more future and graduating Mechanics get into the Hybrid repair field Toyota can’t hire them all. Not enough money and, not enough Toyota Dealerships to continue an on going attempt to preserve the dying monopoly.

Well some cliches are cliches for a reason (their true) and Toyota learned that with the clique “All Good Things Must Come To An End.”

  Thanks for Reading,

Les Sober

Insane Text Exchange

WARNING TO ALL READERS: OBJECTIONABLE MATERIAL

This is the most recent and most entertaining Text Exchange between SpaceDog and Myself. Enjoy.

SpaceDog: U need to pull up your pants and clean up your voicemail. Did u know that men with unclean voicemail are 95% more likely to contract Syphilis and 180 timeshare likely to infect their partner? Its horrible i tied my own tubes. But i feel like u get Syphilis more than me hence my text. Multiple shots in trader joe’s to be the most Portlandia crime ever.

Les: First I’m not wearing pants so Ah-Ha! I like my voicemail FILTHY like a Pecker. 180 times that’s it?!!! GREAT now my Crabs have Syphilis AND HERPIES! Shots at Trader Joe’s SHOTS! SHOTS! SHITS!

SPaceDog: Lol

Les: Headed home from Porn Shop, gonna grab some Pickled Eggs, and Budweiser, Hit you up when I get back to Base Camp (Named after all the Cocaine Smoking or Free Basing going on there.)

SpaceDog: I just like gay hulu and i get a massive cock. ok cool.

Les: Also to get rid of Crabs soak Your Junk in Vodka and then cover it in sand. That way the Crabs get Drunk and Stone Each other to Death.

SpaceDog: Id like to do that to get my crabs to work again, between 20 year old Tweens doing vaginal stretches and the male lifeguards moving out of masturbatorial range my life has been no bed of roses. Im just watching cool gay stuff online.

Les: 

Les: Worst Dick Pix EVER. LMFAO!

SpaceDog: There goes that orgasm…clean your voicemail. I dont mind not talking to you i do mind being drunk and not being able to Express my freak.

Les: Gave my voicemail a well needed Bourbon Enema so Speak Your Freak.

Thanks for Reading,

SpaceDog & Les Sober 

From Catastrophe Into Conundrum to Conclusion

A few posts back I mentioned My Car took a complete shit on me rendering it useless. I ended up getting it to a Garage where they replaced the Alternator so sucked, but no big deal. I then picked the Car up and drove the 2 hours back home. That should have been the end of the fucking story. Its My Car so it was far from being over.

A day after I get My Car home the goddamn CHECK TRANSMISSION Light starts blinking like an epileptic on Meth. I took it home, parked it, and waited for a chance to take it to my Home Town shop. I finally got My chance on Friday of that week, and I took it in.

The receptionist asked the obligatory “What can we do for you?”, and My Wife told here verbatim “The Check Transmission Light is Blinking so we brought it in.”

Now because it was around 2:30-3:00 pm they stated the obvious that the Car wouldn’t be gotten to until Monday. See I live in a Micro Podunk Town out in the Woods, and around here Mechanics (among many others) are Closed all Weekend.

I called the Shop late Monday afternoon to get a progress report if you will. The Receptionist said He (the Mechanic presumably) was playing catch up as best he could. Now I don’t know for sure but she kept saying “Him” as if they only had one Mechanic which would make sense around these parts. My confusion comes from the Fact that I’ve seen a couple of Mechanics who apparently work there, and its a 8 bay Garage. Who fucking knows  anyway.

I decided not to call Tuesday because the Mechanic obviously was over whelmed with work at the moment. Wednesday was the 4th of July so they were closed which again around here thats just par of the course.

I called them on Thursday, and still the Mechanic hadn’t had a chance to look at it. The receptionist did mention that the Mechanic had had a few free minutes, and was going to run some quick diagnostic test, BUT the machine he was going to use had a dead battery so that was the end of that.

She then let me know the Mechanic was working his ass off Monday, and Tuesday he was at “The Funeral”(this is a prime example of Mirco Town Life. I mean the Receptionist just assumed I knew the person or I at least knew who the hell they were, that they had in fact died, when the funeral was, and that I very well might be attending.), and Wednesday was a National Holiday. Point being its Shitty Timing.

Come Friday I call ONCE AGAIN, and the Receptionist tells me the Problem is the Transmission. WELL NO FUCKING SHIT SHERLOCK. My Wife told her exactly that when we dropped the fucking thing off A WEEK AGO YOU ASSHOLE. That wasn’t all though there was more bullshit coming.

The Bullshit I’m referring to is what the Receptionist tells me next. She tells me that “They” will do SOME Transmission work, BUT there are certain repairs they won’t touch with a ten foot fucking pole. And lucky Me My Car had one of the issues “They” wouldn’t fuck with.

She then refers me to a Shop a few towns over about 45 minutes away that they’ve had a long and extensive relationship Blah Blah fucking Blah. The problem is once again its Friday afternoon so My Wife was working and by the time she got off the Transmission Shop would be closed. And once again we found that the Transmission Shop was CLOSED all weekend.

I parked my Car at a near by piece of property owned by a Family Member. I didn’t want to drive the fucker because I didn’t want to exacerbate the issue just like you wouldn’t want to aggravate an injury.

Come Monday I drove my Car to the Transmission Shop. We walked in the office to find no one there. After standing there for 10 minutes like an Asshole a Shop Mechanic popped in to say the Office Guy is out test driving a customer’s car and will be back soon. This pissed me off to the point I went outside for a smoke to avoid acting like a real dick.

As I finished my smoke a greasy looking guy pulls in, and I assume this is this MIA front desk dude. As I’m walking back the office the Guy calls to me. I walk over and he asks me whats up, and I precede to tell him my transmission light was on I took it in to “I’m not mention their actual name” Shop and they said they wouldn’t do the needed repair so they sent me here.

This asshole looks me dead in they eye and says “We don’t work on Transmissions.” WHAT THE FUCK, YOU OWN A TRANSMISSION ONLY SHOP SO PARDON FUCKING ME??!!! I again feel a over whelming rage coming over me so I told him my Wife was in the office.

We went in and apparently there was a possible issue with the type of Transmission my car had.This is what had led to the Odd statement made by the Greasy Guy, BUT IN REALITY My car had a absolutely STANDARD TRANSMISSION so YEAH THEY COULD FIX IT.

Why the Greasy Guy jumped the diagnostic gun I have not a fucking clue.

I left the car there where the Greasy Guy would run further diagnostics and a drive it to see 1st hand what was going on. What lowered my blood pressure was when the Greasy Guy said he’d do the diagnostics for free. That saved me $90-$120 right there.

Later that Morning The Greasy Guy called me. He told me he couldn’t get an exact pin point on the problem with the Diagnostic Machines so He was going to have to remove the Transmission and “Tinker with it” and take a look.

He then told me how much he charged for this and it stopped me in my tracks because the additional charge was utterly going to fuck up my financial set up as it were. I got lucky again when he informed me that that money WOULDN’T be an ADDITIONAL COST as it would be put words the price of the repair.

I talked to the Greasy Guy Tuesday who said he had NO IDEA who the hell I drove my Car to his shop. See once he removed the Transmission, and opened it up a shit ton of its parts fell the fuck out all over the garage floor. The Transmission was THRASHED.

He said he could rebuild it, and that would fix any and all Transmission issues. I called my Wife to confer. My Wife and I had been spending our free time wondering if it could be repaired or did it need to be replaced all together. At the same time we were playing the “Price of Repair Vs. Getting a New Car in the Battle of Whats The Best Financial Strategy.

I asked The Greasy Guy if he did do the repairs or whatever would the car be reliable (in all due favor its a Older Car) or would investing the money in a New Car be a better Idea. No one wants to make the mistake of holding on to an aging car and end up dumping way too much money into its ongoing list go repairs.

The Greasy Guy said outside of the shitty Transmission that the car was in great shape, and would be good car for quite awhile on. I then authorized him to repair it, and He said he’d be in touch.

I waited but didn’t hear shit Wednesday and din’t bother calling either.

I called The Greasy Guy Today and he reported that the Transmission had been rebuilt, reinstalled, BUT the Mechanic working on it gave it a test drive and had heard an unusual noise. The Greasy Guy was going to test drive it himself, and then put it back up on a lift to take a look. He said he’d be in touch in a couple of hours.

At this point in the game I was loosing my fucking mind. WHAT could possibly be the Problem now? Its been over 2 weeks total I’ve not had my car and Our Micro Town doesn’t have Public Transportation in any form whatsoever, No Taxi or Professional Car Services, and No Uber so without my car I’ve been isolated out at the Lake. All I can say is CABIN FEVOR IS VERY FUCKING REAL.

The Greasy Guy called back an hour or so later to tell me everything had been sorted out and that I could pick up my Car tomorrow anytime after 10:00am.

I couldn’t be Happier.

Thanks for Reading,

  Les Sober

Day Whatever THE FCK!!! Gay People Suck I’m Going BACK INTO THE CLOSET and Having a HOUSE PARTY!

Yes I am having a house party and I’m going back into the closet!!!!!

Why would one do such a thing???? Because shouldn’t I be marching in some parade next summer with my new 6 pack abs, my tan in a bottle glistening off my chiseled face, and my buttocks slightly showing it’s well formed, yet well used shape???? Because I am not like them……..ahhhhh………!!!!!!!!!!!!!FUCKADUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Should I expect any more by people who ask me what designers I wear, call me cub or bear when I’m larger or call me slut when all I’m doing is looking at someone to decide if I could possibly be attracted to them (or if I’m just doing a deathstare to figure out why I’m doing the deathstare)? By the way sorry to the guy I’ve been deathstaring at the gym, I know there are plenty of better guys to stare at but for some reason you have won the deathstare…. Enjoy it’s a privilege, not a right. 🙂

I guess I just don’t relate. I will never be one of those people that can just live in one world or the other. I live in the real world, reality, whatever you want to call it. The only time I really leave that place is when I’m drunk. If most people went to say Cabo San Lucas when they drink, I’d have to say I go to an underground prison probably in either Siberia or China. Somewhere in that next of the woods……

So maybe my expectations are too high??? Maybe it’s only like one of 100 gay people who would answer the question, “What shows have you seen lately?”, with a band or two and not have Liza Manilli included in the answer. Maybe I’m the one who is flawed, who doesn’t really see the point of gay pride parades, doesn’t watch a show obsessively because it features gay people in their various worry lines, or doesn’t have a little random flag on the back of their car (although if the lesbian didn’t take all the clever bumper stickers i may have one, but I think some random fag shoved it up his ass)…..

Anyway my expectations are not too high. They really do not even exist. I just know for some reason that I do not relate to very many gay people. I like GOOD music, not crap. I like sports, mainly baseball and football, which is two more sports then everyone but the lesbians…..I don’t parade myself around. I think I’m a homophobe.

Is that even possible? A gay homophobe? Well if it is I guess I’m the closest thing there is to one. I really do kind of live on my own plane of existence or planet or whatever the fuck you call it. For those of you that say I just need to get laid or have a drink and get over it, I’ll fuck your mom, key your car, and tie you to your bedpost and make you watch Cats for a week straight.

“Oh no I said straight. They are coming to take my gay card. Quick hide in the closet!!! Do it like Anne Frank…..and be as quiet as Helen Keller.”

“OK if they come just queff your vag, that will distract them.”

“Oh no but what I just exfoliated. What if they take my gay card give it back then want to fuck? Then what the fucknations do I do??? Wait, quick I know strap that dildo on and distract them with that while I sneak out the back. NO NO NO. They’ll be lookin’ to do me in the back. I need to hit it in the front!!!!!!”

———————————-

Kegs of beer for one for all
Bra straps like to tumble and fall
Neotrails blaze into the night
Choose the forsaken
Amen need church need jesus
Fuck that man I ain’t that uptight

Lalalalala. So ummmm can I possibly be a homophobe? I once hung out with Neonazis but I was like 16 and dumb and for some reason they didnt kill me….. Dur durrrr durrr dur dur…..

By SpaceDog 

The Views of Vikings

As I mentioned in a Liquor synaptic storm I mentioned  (in the previous post) that today I would be posting something pertaining to the Vikings.

First off Vikingistic is not a recognized word, but English is such a half assed shit language I see there no reason Vikingistic should’t be a viable word.

Vikingistic: Having the Attributes or Likeness to or of a Viking/Viking Culture/Viking Life Style.

Now on with the Post.

I think a brief refresher on exactly Who and What Vikings were in Reality. Over decades of Hollywood Movies and Television Shows have been given one hell of a make over/rebranding.

According to Movies/T.V. Vikings are portrayed as  Stoic, Brave, and Honorable Nomadic Warrior Explorers. This couldn’t be FARTHER FROM THE TRUTH.

Vikings in Reality were complete Savages who’s bloodlust was unmatched. Vikings spent their time Drinking, Fighting, and Fucking through countless conquests. Vikings were brutal Barbarians that raped and pillaged anyone or anything that crossed their path. True the Vikings were explorers, BUT NOT in the traditional sense.

Vikings unlike say Charles Darwin for example traveled far and wide to Discover new Cultures, Animals, Sea Life or Plants. Vikings did the EXACT OPPOSITE. Vikings traveled for one reason, and one reason only to Rape, Pillage, and Destroy ANYONE they might come across,(and take their land for Viking expansion and EnSlaving Women and Children that is if they decided not to butcher them for the sheer fuck of it.)

Vikings though (more than likely due to their Lifestyle) had a total acceptance of Death, They had no Fear of Dying. This has been immortalized in the saying “Today is a Good Day TO DIE.”

Now Vikings didn’t say that shit to look tough or like a bad ass before battle they said it for an actual reason.

Vikings believed their Nordic God’s had scheduled the exact time, date, and day of their Birth. AND Those same God’s had also scheduled the Time, day, and date of their Death.

Another Key Viking belief was that a TRUE (and only appropriate) death for a Viking Warrior was to Die in Battle. For if a Warrior died in Battle not only did he die an Honorable Death, BUT he would be rewarded as well.

The reward for dying in battle was that the deceased Warrior’s Spirit would be transported to the Halls of Valhalla (The Viking Version of Heaven/Paradise) where a Viking could indulge in all that he loved while living. This meant his Spirit would spend eternity Drinking, Fucking, and Fighting.

Bottomline: Vikings Loved Violence and Hedonism to such an extreme that even in Death a Viking could spend eternity doing EXACTLY as He had Lived..

Believing this apparently led to the total acceptance that death is inevitable thus one shouldn’t be concerned about it. This is the concept that I’ve been mulling over recently.

With My inevitable demise due to my shit heart, the Doctors who want to run me around like a fucking Lab Rat, and Still come to the same conclusion PLUS the fact now they want to continue to their Frankenstein shit cutting me open again I have to ask myself is it worth it?

Obviously Dying isn’t the only option, BUT when I ask is it worth this is what I mean. If I get all this medical mumbo jumbo done yes I will live Longer anyway you look at it. My question pertains to Quality of Life.

Is it worth all the bullshit, time, pain, and most of all MONEY if after I spend my life strapped for cash, living pay check to pay check barely scrapping by because I’m buried under mounting of mounting medical bills.

Point: Do I want to spend my elongated life utterly stressed out and poor as shit due to massive medical bills? Sounds like financial fucking Slavery to me. (“We’ll save your life, FOR A HEFTY PRICE.” that is so fucked up I can’t believe I’m typing it.) This is America and CAPITALISM has turned Life Saving Medicine into a FUCKING BUSINESS full of Greedy motherfuckers.

So were the Vikings Views on Death really the best way to deal with one’s Mortality? Who the fuck Knows, Not Me.

Thanks for Reading,

Les Sober 

ITS 11:56 WTF Do They Want of Me?!

Sorry no pictures, this is what the fuck it is and nothing more. I have adapted a Vikingistic (not a real word but damn well fucking should be.) view of things. I digress as you can read all bout that shit tomorrow.

Its not a matter of IF My shitty Heart kills me, thats a fucking Granted its only a matter of When. Fuck I could be dead by the time your read this, or well dead by the time ANYONE sees this.

I’m intoxicated and insane, fuck is this all about, and fuck do they want?! All these fucking people most of whom I have no fucking clue who they are keeping calling. Calling to Collect, Calling to Verify, Calling to Solicit some shit.

They want to continue the game of Fuck Me Frankenstein and Add more shit to compensate for the Bum Fucking Ticker. Its for Insurance purposes They Assure Me. Assure Me of What? My Fucking Death.

They pump me full of Pills, Restrictions, Regulations, The inevitable Rules.

Fuck That. The shit I’ve seen, the Shit I’ve Done, this shit should be NO FUCKING SURPRISE.

They say what doesn’t KILL YOU make You Stronger. My Question why is all this shit trying to kill me? Fucking A. I’m NO SAINT, but fuck Me. If you believe in Karma and I for one Do We can all safely assume I was motherfucking Hitler in my last life. My life is dodging or dealing with infinite SHIT STORMS.

I’m not a Gambling Man, BUT if I have to bet on my fucking Life, yeah I’m fucking going to try and Rig the Deck for all its fucking worth. Don’t Get Me Wrong, BUT I have my conditions like Jesus in the Electric Chair.

I’ll do Anything as well as Its On My Terms.

Fuck. Sorry No Pictures.

Thanks for Reading,

Les Sober. 

 

Life and Death in Architectural History

For the most part most of people today are well aware that during the Victorian Era (June 20, 1837 – January 22, 1901) Society and People in Large were absolutely OBSESSED with Death. This led to a variety of practices that can seem by todays standards to be outrageous, Bizarre, Morbid, and just plain Sick.

Some of these unusual practices pertaining to Death in the Victorian Era were as follows. Postmortem Portraits meaning ( Note: prior to 1839 all Portraits were PAINTED by hand) the relatives of the Dead would dress the Deceased and stage them in in Life Like poses for a Photograph, Especially Infants and Children.

There was also the practice of Wearing the Hair of the Dead. The hair could be put in a locket or more commonly made into a piece of Jewelry such as Brooches, Bracelets, Rings or Chains.

Another was the practice of Covering Mirrors. Once the family member died all mirrors in the House were immediately covered. This was done because if a mirror in the House fell and broke it was a sign someone else in the Household would die soon as well. Also to avoid bad luck the clock(s) in the house of the Deceased would be stopped at the exact time of their passing. Lastly when the body was removed from the premises it had to be carried out Head First so that it wouldn’t beckon other members of the Living to Follow.

Now if SEVERAL family members of the same family died EVERYONE and EVERYTHING that entered the Family Home would be wearing a Black Ribbon to PREVENT THE DEATHS FROM SPREADING FURTHER.

For my last example I will use the practice of taking all Family photos and turning them face down. This was to prevent the Deceased’s Spirit form POSSESSING Relatives and Friends alike.

Back in the Victorian Era Funeral Homes had very little to do with Death other than selling Coffins, and possibly providing the Grave Digging Service too. So when it came to such things as a Viewing/Wake it fell solely on the Families shoulder’s.

Based on what we have seen by the first example (Death Portraits) you better believe a Viewing/Wake was deemed absolutely necessary, BUT the question was “Where the hell do we Keep and Display The Dead?!” Without the services of Today’s Funeral Homes Families would hold the Viewing/Wake (which could last several days) in their house.

Since you couldn’t display a body in the kitchen, Houses when they were built had a Parlor Room. This room specific and really only purpose was to display Dead Family for the Viewing/Wake. And yes the name Parlor was a shortened version of Funeral Parlor.

Over time of course Funeral Homes realized their was a shit ton of cash they were missing out in in the Death Service Field. Slowly Funeral Homes came to resemble those of today offering a SLEW of Funeral options, but most importantly They had their own Viewing areas for Wakes. Thus Parlor’s found themselves unemployed and thrown out on their collective ass.

The issue that confronted POST Victorian Era Architects (and Society as a whole) was the lingering stigma of The Parlor. As we all can image as long as houses were built with Parlor’s the vision of Dead relatives on display would haunt the room’s reputation until the end of Time.

What comes next is NOT AN EXACT nor ANYWHERE CLOSE HISTORICALLY ACCURATE retelling of how The Parlor problem was Fixed.

One day on January 1, 1901 the American Architecture Society met for a special conference that was being held for the sole reason of coming up with a viable solution for the Prevalent Parlor Problem. The conference was held in a small town of Mortuary located on the outskirts of Death Valley in Sunny California. They unanimously agreed at the time that the Town name and Location were quite appropriate, and if your going to have a convention dealing with Death best to have it in a beautiful Sunny State full of Bleach Blonde Surfers?!!

Any who the morning was a complete wash, no one could see to come up with even a half decent answer to the Parlor Problem. By Noon everyone’s blood sugar was in their ankles so the Mediator called 60 minutes for Lunch hoping after a good meal the Men’s mental faculties might actually yield a solution.

As the Conference was breaking for Lunch a young attendy (an Architectural Student from Erroneous University in Pluskin the East end of South Dakota) by the name of Eger Herberts over heard two fellow attendees conversation on the said subject of Lunch. One Man had asked the other where exactly should they go for Lunch today. The 2nd Man replied he thought Lunch at The Lively Leprechaun Kitchen and Bar would be a good idea. To that the First Man said “Ah Food and Drink under one roof now thats Living!”

Right then Eger had his Epiphany and immediately ran over a pushed the conferences Emergency Stop Button. Once The Emergency Stop Button was pushed all in Attendance had to Stop dead in their tracks, and await instruction. Once everyone was motionless and silent Eger announced his answer.

“What’s the OPPOSITE of Death? Life! LIVING! We rename it a LIVING ROOM, Thats POSITIVE as all get out Right?!”

After the Shock and Awe wore off it was put to a vote right there on the spot and as a result the (Funeral) Parlor was REBRANDED as what we know of today as yes a Living Room.

Thanks for Reading,

Les Sober 

Day 30 – Death, Doom & The Beyond

I have been at a incredible impasse the past few days, after not being at one for the better part of a month. I have tried to maintain a balance of thing in life, for once any single task, hobby, or overindulgence consumes me, it can quickly become the main and only focus of a given day.

So I played games all day and wasted away yesterday. Was just empty. Then it hit me.

I mean I know when Michael Jackson died, all the people that liked to scream pedophile or scream molester, well mainly all the people that just like to scream, suddenly were screaming the holy train of praise. There are always people that mainly want to hear themselves scream all the damn time.

I do not understand this whatsoever. I can be quite loud and outgoing at times, I can be quiet and passive (yes I actually can hahaha) but for people who toot their horns nonstop just for some airtime to benefit themselves due to the misfortune of another is frankly appalling.

So I stopped to think the other day…..luckily I had quite a long time away from others and the clamoring going on in their heads. Lucky enough to be able to enjoy a nice day out in the sun and lucky enough to actually shut off my own random thoughts that we going on. I had a few disheartening thoughts about things going on in my personal life and then a few happy ones. Back and forth over the great volleyball net of life…..

The thing that got me the most upset though was relatively simple. It is simply a question:

Why are people so satisfied with mediocrity?

The question stuck in my mind for a long time, longer then most and when I tried to push it away it fought back really hard to the point that tears ran down my face. It just became really sad to me that so many people go from being overzealous teens who can conquer the world or anyone or anything they choose to being complete shells of their former selves.

OK so sure, yeah, it is good to grow up a little bit, but when does growing up mean losing hope, when does growing up mean to not take those risks, and when did it mean that your big idea of a weekend out is fish and chips at long john silvers?????

I’m not saying that everyone needs to go out there and find a cure for cancer or that everyone needs to be so fiercely competitive that they will mow down everything and everyone in their path to succeed. A little something in the positive direction would be helpful. Not hiding beyond all your vices and masks and shortcoming and just being. It’s hard to just be. Take the harder road.

Though if you know you want to be a hard ass waste of time and space, then at least provide the world with something. Make them laugh. Humor makes anyone more attractive, because I have not many anyone who does not like to laugh yet and I’m three thousand years old. I should know about these things by now.

Yeah so basically if you are miserable, have no desire for anything more (at all, i mean you have to stop wanting like cock and ice cream and chocolate even) , and are not funny please do us all a favor and end it now…..

Because there are plenty of people who are not here that would die (well come back to life actually) to be in your shoes to have just that one more chance. To do something nice for someone, to share one last smile, to relish the laughter. To just be.

Written By Spacedog 

Malice The Band That Almost Killed Us All: PART 4

April 1st: Heading into April with the umpteenth line up (consisting of Izzy Sane on Vocals, Mitch Fury on Drums, Maxi Padd on Bass, and Davie Scum on Guitar) met for a band meeting at their manager Harold Slickmann’s Villa in France. Once the entire band was assembled at Stickman’s French Villa they had a proper high end Wine and Cheese Pairing.

During the festivities the band decided to become a Honky Tonk Hillbilly Blue Grass Band. They also unanimously to donate 75% of their earnings to Charity, and Join Green Peace to occupy the time between Tours.

Also while they were at it Malice cured Cancer, Discovered the Secret to Immorality, had a conversation with all the Various Dieties of the World, Ended War, Fought Famine in third world counties, and traveled to the center of the Universe.

(Just Kidding April Fools)

In reality the band hung out at Slickmann’s house lounging around the Pool Day Drinking, and some light Day Drugging until they all got bored and did Ambient Shooters to sleep the rest of the Day.

April 3rd: The band met up at Dinky Kitty Recording Studio’s to quickly record a new EP called “Mental Metal Meltdown” before hitting the road heading out on a 27 day 27 Shows mini Tour promoting the EP. This was Razorback Records idea.

They figured why waste time you could use making money on anything else. Leisure was an Alien Concept to them. And since Malice wasn’t scheduled for their first World Wide Tour until the May 1st Razorback came up the the Ep Mini Tour Package Concept to keep the band productive and (Financially) Prosperous. Plus they figured with a band like Malice keeping them on the shortest of leashes was best for everyone involved.

Malice knocked out the entire EP in 5 hours flat. The Ep featured the songs “Beer Belly Blues”, “The Ease of Sleaze”, “Liquor, Ladies, and Lingerie”, “Sucking Down a Six Pack”, and “PsychoCycle”.

The second side would feature 4 Songs by their opening band during their upcoming World Wide Tour in May The Assholes. The Assholes were a notoriously infamous Underground Punk-Metal band from Detroit known far and wide for their overt aggression.

April 5th: After a 48 hour hangover Malice were in Razorback Records Conference Room for a Unscheduled meeting. Slickmann entered the room accompanied by the band’s long time Lawyer TR McCoy, and took a seat at the head of the far end of the conference room’s large tacky table. A few minutes later Razorback PR Rep. Lila Lascivious entered cold and emotionless as ever her Poker Face in full play.

Lila announced that Malice’s Mini Promotional Tour shows would all be “Secret” (unannounced or promoted or advertised no doubt to save Razorback more money on overhead expenses.) Shows each would be held in an “Untraditional Location”. This could be for example in an Abandoned Factory or some shit like that, but it was all an elaborate promotional campaign by Razorback to amp up Malice’s Street Cred. with Fans, and help spread the mythos of Malice. Lila finished her presentation by informing the band that they would be given the location of the Venue 1 hour before the show starting with tonights initial show.

At 9:00 pm Slickmann received a phone call in his Hotel Room from Lilia, and was told tonights show would be housed in an Abandoned and allegedly Haunted Insane Asylum named  The Leviticus Von Trundle Asylum for The Criminally Insane.

The show was a complete fucking flop. Razorback hadn’t “Put the world out on the street” (remember this is Pre Smartphones, Pre Internet, and Pre Social Media SO word of mouth was actually physically face to face or over the phone (Landlines and Pay Phones) to work.

Their was also a great deal of misunderstanding  as to what the fuck “Mental Metal Meltdown Mini Tour” actually was. See what happened was that the expected audience of Malice fans turned out to be mainly a larger group made up of rather confused Ghost Hunters. The Ghost Hunters thought the Show was some sort of Paranormal-Con type situation so imagine their surprise to instead of finding Ghosts the found Malice rampaging through the Entire EP.

Malice was than a little pissed off by the entire catastrophe that was that nights impromptu pop up concert. They not only played to a small handful of actual Malice Fans they also avoided selling any merchandise which Malice felt was an insult to injury.

An Utterly irate Slickmann called Razorbacks PR Rep. Lila and demanded a meeting immediately first thing the following Morning. After such a shitty show Malice vanished into the night to ingest intoxicants till the Hallucinatory Cows Came Home.

April 6th: Once again Malice found them selves in Razorback Records well used conference room along with their manage Harold Slickmann, and their Lawyer TR McCoy. Lila the Razorback PR Rep. assigned to Malice entered the room a minute or two accompanied by 6 well groomed, grey haired Record Executives in very expensive suits.

As soon as Lila and her associates sat down Slickmann still quite enraged from the previous nights cluster fucking launched into conversation like a NASA Rocket. Slickmann demanded Razorback release Malice from their current contract as Malice were utterly unhappy with Razorbacks, and were seeking  new Record Label Representation.

Lila listened to Slickmann’s wild rant and then presented Razorbacks position pertaining to the matter of Malice and their freshly started mini tour. Razorback insisted the show was a travesty true, BUT was anything but intentional. Malice and Razorback up until now how been amicable, and thus Razorback refused to terminate their contract with Malice.

TR McCoy requested to speak to the Head of Razorbacks Legal Department in private. Razorback agreed and walked McCoy to the Head of their Legal Department’s office. After 20 minutes or so McCoy returned with Bernard B. Burbler in tow.

McCoy presented the compromise that he and Burbler had come up with. 1st Razorback would cancel the next 12 shows (starting with tonights scheduled show) of the tour to allow time for Fans to find out about the “Secret Show(s)”.  2nd last nights show would be a write off on both ends since arguing would waste time and produce zero results (so Malice wouldn’t be “compensated” in any way for the hassle of last nights fuckfest AND Razorback wouldn’t seek reimbursement for the shows expenses or damages or for violation of contract.) 3rd and last of all after the current Mini Tour Malice could and would be renegotiate and reevaluate  their contract Razorback to assess wether or not  Malice and Razorback could continue to work with one another.

Malice begrudgingly accepted the terms and the deal was official, but Malice wasn’t through as they felt they needed to make their mark as it were. Izzy followed by Mitch and Davie strode over to the group of Razorback Record Executives, unzipped their flies, and proceeded to piss all over the them as the ran willy nilly around the conference room table horrified. Meanwhile Maxi who had drank 2 bottles of Exlax mixed with Gin jumped up onto the conference table, and took a massive 4 Gallon Explosive Diarrhea Shit all over it.

Security was called and a fist fight broke out between the Security Guards and Malice. No one was hurt because no one could land nor throw a decent punch due to the conference room being hosed down by a excessive amount of Urine and Feces. Malice and the Security Guards alike just tried to lunge at one another (in an attempt to grab the opposing party), but they all just ended up slipping and sliding all over in the bodily fluid covered floor.

Malice finally gave up and went home with the entire band smelling like over flowing Port-A-Potties.

April 7th: To help elevate the on going tension with their Record Lable Slickmann decided to book a Luxury Get Away to St. Troy in the Caribbean for the next week. Malice arrived in St. Troy in their Private Jet around Noon, and arrived at Oasis in the Oasis Resort. Slickmann had in the name of Privacy Booked the entire Resort to elevate the stress from the Press.

The first thing Malice did once they arrived at their Suits was to call everyone they knew and invite them to what Malice had dubbed “Rock’n Resort” Mega Party. The next order of business was arranging the almost none stop flights to and from the States shuttling all of Malice’s Guests back and forth.

Here is the Summation of Malice’s Vacation (AKA Rock’n Resort Mega Party)

April 8th: Malice charters the largest Yacht they possibly could to continuously circle St. Troy for 24 hours straight. Malice had additional Guests brought out to the Yacht on Jet Skies. The raucous Party got the attention of a local amateur Pirate Crew who moved on the Yacht like Fleas to a Dog.

Once the Pirates arrived they were mistaken for Guests in themed costumes and invited on board. The Pirates being thoroughly confused as No One they had ever attacked had remained throwing a Party. After a couple of Mojito’s the Pirates thought since they were now Guests at the Party it would be rather rude to Pirate and Pillage the Yacht at this point. Thus a good time was had by all.

April 9th: Mitch Fury went surfing and was accidentally killed. From what the Authorities said based on Eye Witnesses interviews the following. Mitch was surfing a gigantic wave having the time of his fucking life when the wave caught up to him. Once the wave was on top on him Mitch was thrown in a quite elegant arch through the air directly into an awaiting Great White Shark’s Mouth. The Local Police’s closed the case labeling it a extremely rare instance of”Suicide By Shark” (Its like “Suicide by Cop” but with a Great White Shark.)

April 10th: Malice in lou of the tragic death of their drummer knew they had to keep the band going, and began flying out Auditioning Drummers. The search for the new drummer was going badly to say the least, and Malice was entertaining the idea of just using a Drum Machine. Thats when Rock Harder the legendary Drummer who had played in such bands as Arch Enema, Poisoned Ivy, The Savages, and PileDriver. Needless to say Harder was hired on the spot without every playing a single beat.

April 11th: Slickmann wanted Malice to practice as much as they could during the trip to break in Rock Harder their new Drummer. So Slickmann assumed the responsibility of dealing with Fury’s ashes. See Mitch wanted to be cremated so the band had a Tiki Hut Beach Bash were Mitch’s body had been incinerated  in  the Bon Fire. Mitch being a such an Ocean Lover Slickmann had opted to give Mitch a Burial at Sea by spreading his Ashes out in Open Water. The Boat Left the Marina at 9:37 am headed towards the Bermuda Triangle (because Slickmann thought that be pretty fucking Metal) and was never seen again.

(Above: ^Bite The Turnbuckle ^)

April 12th: To deal with the second horrible death of their trip Malice went into the rain forests of St. Troy and Drank GALLONS of Ayahuasca. Malice then walked down their was to a splendid waterfall and spent the day talking to Trees.

April 13th: Malice got a call at 5:57 am from The American Embassy in Tokyo Japan. To their utter surprise Slickmann was in fact Alive. He had been found by Commercial Fisherman just outside the right side of The Dragon’s Triangle in the Pacific Ocean. The Dragon’s Triangle is reportedly Asia’s Bermuda Triangle. The best Hypothesis the Japanese Physicists could come up with at this time based on the data they had collected was this. Slickmann had entered the Bermuda Triangle and in it accessed some sort of geographical portal that transported Slickmann half way across the Earth. Their additional ideas were just plain ridiculous.

April 14th: After a trip that included the death of their old Drummer Mitch Fury, the hiring of Fury’s replacement Rock Harder, a Bon Fire Cremation, Hallucinating in the Forrest, and the temporary and mysterious (not to mention totally unexplained) disappearance of their manager Harold Slickmann Malice was ready to get the fuck out of St. Troy. Malice boarded their private Jet and flew home to New York (the bands current resident City) on an uneventful Flight. The inflight Movie was Tommy Wiseau’s Cult Classic “The Room”.

Stayed Tuned Readers for Malice The Band That Almost Killed Us All PART 5

Thanks for Reading,

Les Sober