No.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, for the love of God Almighty, not again.

Look, I’m not one to go into politics real heavily. I don’t align myself with any particular party as a whole. I’m bipartisan, and vote for whoever I think is the more competent, qualified, ideal candidate, period.

For the record, I do not really care for George Bush. Yeah, I was in favor of the war in Iraq, but that was while under the assumption that the country was harboring WMDs. We all know now that appears to be a major inaccuracy. Bearing that in mind, I feel we did a good thing (liberating a nation from a dictator) for the wrong reason. Time to get our guys and gals the fuck outta there.

But like I was saying, I don’t like Bush as a President. He did what any President would’ve had to do after September 11th, plain and simple. Despite the glaring differences, Gore would’ve had to do the same thing. Why? Because a non-response would’ve resulted in the most intense backlash imaginable.

Besides, laying low and bending over for another 747 Enema to one of our landmarks is just stupid.

So let’s not go so far as to say that Gore or Clinton would not have responded the same way. Anyone would have done what Bush did. Anyone would have enacted retaliation.

I don’t find Bush to be a competent man by any means. He has surrounded himself with the right advisors, I will give him that much. However, I really don’t think this nation can withstand another four years of the man without some serious, serious repercussions.

So obviously, I looked towards the Democratic candidates. Well, all of them except for Lieberman. I think we all know he was gonna tank. I was leaning towards John Kerry well before Howard Dean auditioned for Skid Row during his caucus speech. And now with Kerry gaining some serious motherlovin’ ground, the last few weeks have been looking up, in my eyes.

Until Ralph.

Y’know, the term “nadir” refers to a low point. While the spelling might be off by a mere vowel, Ralph Nader is just that. A political low point. To me, he is the lowest common denominator, a washed up hippie idealist who has refused to claw his way out of his pipe dreams. Does he make good arguments about corporate America? Sure. Is he realistic in his vision of our nation? Not by a long shot. Old Ralph likes to envision a utopian society completely devoid of corporate interference and the threat of international imperialism.

Ralph, drop it like a hot potato right now. It’s a nice idea, but we’re too far gone to ever completely reverse the flow. You’d do yourself well to just try and let the current carry you where it wants and learn to deal with it like the rest of us. Certain things are not going to change. They may improve, but they will always be in place. If you think you can make a difference, pull your ostrich-like skull out of the ground, spit out the grass, and cast your eyes upward to that giant yellow ball in the sky like the rest of us have. Welcome to real fuckin’ life.

Speaking of grass, which I’m sure you’re quite familiar with, let’s talk about the Green Party. Where have they gone, Ralphie? What’s wrong, why can’t you front for them anymore? Maybe it’s because you’re an ungrateful dimwit who pretty much bankrupt them in exchange for an extension on your 15 minutes of fame? Maybe, Ralph. Maybe.

So now you’re running as an Independent. I think it’s pretty much official. Much in the same way Michael Jackson is the modern-day Howard Hughes, Ralph Nader is now the Ross Perot of the 21st century. A wrinkly little gremlin of a cult leader with small stature and big dreams who seems hell-bent on throwing a wrench into the cogs of the political machine.

Because that’s what Nader is, folks. He’s a spoiler, plain and simple. I know, there was plenty controversy surrounding the 2000 election without him, but he certainly did not help matters. OK, you know what? Fuck political correctness, I’m just gonna come on out and say it plain as day.

Ralph Nader sabotaged the 2000 Presidential election, and he’s gonna do it again in 2004.

Y’know, this may sound a little X-Files of me, a little too “conspiracy theory,” if you will, but don’t you find it awfully convenient that Nader just happens to rear his little mutant head precisely when the Democrats are gaining ground? Let’s be honest, we know he’s gonna take way some of Kerry’s votes, and that does not bode well for John. I mean, he’s been quiet ever since the 2000 election, not really hinting at running for Prez, and now all of a sudden he throws his hat into the circle? Well I’m certainly convinced.

Ralph Nader is on the Republican payroll, and you can take that to the bank.

Don’t like what I’m saying? Too fucking bad. Think he can make a difference? Wake up. Think he has a snowball’s chance in Hell? Think again. Nader is the nadir, no question about it.

Fuck you, Ralph Nader. You’re a punk. You are the O.J. Simpson of the political world; a psychotic, twisted murderer who got off the hook before, and will probably get off the hook again. You’re a political assassin, and there’s a special seat reserved for you in Hell, right between Michael Eisner and the guy who invented the Pog. I cannot wait to tinkle on your tombstone, mutant.

Goodnight, and have a pleasant tomorrow.

Normally, I’m not one to talk about my family on this blog. In fact, to my knowledge, I’ve never really gone into my family life on ye olde Landshark. Well, all you need to know is that I love my family to death. But I’m here to tell you about one person in particular that I’m crazy about.

Grandpa Frank.

Now Grandpa Frank recently passed away. Last month, in fact. I grew up with him, and he lived with us pretty much up until the last few months of his life. I had this very unique connection with him… It wasn’t your typical “Obiwan Kenobi/Luke Skywalker” type relationship. He didn’t offer up any sage advice, never taught me how to drive standard or anything like that. He wasn’t really an outwardly emotional guy. He was a longtime truck driver, proud of his Teamsters Union membership. He had an affinity for cars, trucks, and all things automotive. One of his most beloved memories of the last few years was a trip to the Peterbilt factory down south. Because of his rough lifestyle during his youth (drinking, smoking, sleeping around, etc.), he wasn’t one to say “I love you” too easily.

But he showed his love for me in his own way. As a kid, he’d drive me to school, Toys “R” Us, the comic book shop, wherever I needed to go. If one of my toys broke, he’d work double time to fix it. He was good like that. When I got older, he got into the habit of slipping me money, normally a $50 bill, for no particular reason. We had a sort of unspoken understanding with one another, and that was just fine by me.

I won’t go into the emotional details of his last few weeks, but I will tell you that since he passed, I’ve had the most amazing dreams about him. And I’m here to share one of them with you right now.

Earlier this week, I dreamt that I was on the hit Discovery Channel program American Chopper For some reason, I .was on tour with the Teutels and the entire O.C.C. crew at a bike show, admiring their sleek custom motorcycles and shooting the shit. At one point in the dream, I mentioned how I wished my grandfather could’ve been alive to see it all, as he loved that kind of stuff. Paul, Sr. asked what he did for a living, and I responded by telling him he was a truck driver. When I mentioned the company name, Sr. commented, “I used to know a guy who worked for them… Frank. Tough old bastard. Knocked me on my ass about 30 years ago in a bar fight.”

That’s right. It may only be a dream, but Grandpa Frank beat up Paul, Sr. And you know what? I wouldn’t doubt if he could’ve done it in real life.

Miss you much Grandpa. Now and forever, you are the man.

Goodnight, and have a pleasant tomorrow.

Thank you!

True story.

Tuesday, before my Strategic Management class, I was watching Around The Horn in the student lounge, when a tiny, cute blonde girl from said class sat next to me. There was little communication, but I just couldn’t help but notice how cute she was.

So then we’re in class, somehow we got on the subject of dams and the government (just don’t ask), and she commented that when the job market was down, the government would infect the population with AIDS to create more jobs. Someone asked what would happen if a cure for the disease was found, and she commented that there already was a cure, the government was just keeping it under wraps.

I turned to one of my younger classmates, who had also noticed she was cute. Under my breath, I said, “She doesn’t seem so cute anymore.” He replied, “No, she doesn’t.”

True story.

Goodnight and have a pleasant tomorrow.

I am not a shill.

I may be getting my MBA in marketing, but I don’t like to use this blog as a podium to shill things I like. I am quite content to allow everyone to form their own opinion of what is good and what is not. So think of my meager opinions as recommendations.

To quote Captain Barbosa from Pirates of the Caribbean, they are, “more what you’d call ‘guidelines’ than actual rules.”

However, for once, I am telling everyone here, I have found something that everyone can enjoy. Something that everyone can appreciate. Something that every single carbon-based life form with a shred of intelligence and a pulse can love.

The Nerds.

This past Friday was, for me, a pre-Super Bowl religious experience. Y’see, there’s a hot joint in New Haven called Toad’s, maybe you’ve heard of it. Every few months, they play host to perhaps the most hilarious cover band I’ve ever seen. The Nerds. These cats come out wearing horn-rimmed glasses and covering everything from Poison to DMX. And lemme tell ya, they do every song dead on. They are without a doubt the greatest cover band I have ever seen, and the humor is just so key with them. Here’s a list of some of the songs they played:

- Guns N’ Roses, “Sweet Child O’ Mine”
- AC/DC – “Back In Black”
- AC/DC – “You Shook Me All Night Long”
- Bon Jovi – “Wanted Dead Or Alive”
- Kenny Loggins – “Footloose”
- Outkast – “Hey Ya!”
- Jet – “Are You Gonna Be My Girl
- Metallica – “Enter Sandman”
- Aerosmith – “Walk This Way”
- Eminem – “Lose Yourself”
- Journey – “Separate Ways (Worlds Apart)”
- Charlie Daniels – “The Devil Went Down To Georgia”
- Blink-182 – “All The Small Things”
- Lit – “Worst Enemy”
- Queen – “Bohemian Rhapsody”
- Led Zeppelin – “Heartbreaker”
- Faith No More – “Epic”
- Rage Against The Machine – “Killing In The Name”
- The Four Seasons – “December 1963 (Oh What A Night)”
- Def Leppard – “Pour Some Sugar On Me”
- DMX - “Party Up”
- Poison – “Talk Dirty To Me”
- Cream – “Sunshine Of Your Love”
- Tom Jones – “It’s Not Unusual”
- Ozzy Osbourne – “Crazy Train”
- Don McLean – “American Pie

And believe it or not, all that is just the tip of the iceberg. They played two sets for a grand total of more than three hours. Truly a sight to behold.

You can visit them here and download a few samples. You can also check their schedule to see when they’re coming to your neighborhood.

And when they do come to your neighborhood, you’d better go see them. Because every time you don’t see the Nerds when they come to your neighborhood, I’ll club a baby seal. You wouldn’t want that, would you?

And before I go, the Internet community is currently bound to mention Janet Jackson once every hour, so I’m doing my bit now.

Goodnight, and have a pleasant Janet Jackson.

What the hell is this? I tuned into the game last night to see the Pats win, and I get softcore nudity?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for softcore nudity, but there’s a time and place for it. Football does not fall into that category, friends.

Lemme put it this way… I was definitely not expecting to see Janet Jackson’s breast on live TV. And like I said, I gots nothin’ against softcore nudity. The occasional stray mam is fine by me. Normally.

Howevah, this comes off to me like just another sorry attempt by MTV to get some cheap publicity for itself. Pa-frickin’-thetic.

Think I’m taking the whole “conspiracy theory” thing too far? Then why is it the network was quick to issue an apology, calling the incident “unplanned,” yet within minutes of the broadcast, posted the following headline on MTV.com:

"Janet Jackson Got Nasty at the MTV-Produced Super Bowl Halftime Show."

The article goes on to state, “"Jaws across the country hit the carpet at exactly the same time. You know what we're talking about ... Janet Jackson, Justin Timberlake and a kinky finale that rocked the Super Bowl to its core."

Talk about trying to milk it. Insert your own breast pun there.

First it was the Britney/Madonna kiss. Hey… wasn’t that Aguilera chick involved, too? I honestly don’t recall. Anyhoo…

First it was “The Kiss,” now it’s “The Breast.” Don’t give me that “it wasn’t planned” batshit. Those two dinks knew just what they were doing. They knew that everybody would be talking about it today.

Well mission accomplished. And yes, I’m pissed that I’m giving into their deviousness. But when something’s gotta be addressed in a completely unfiltered way, I’m your go-to guy.

Seriously, you really think if Justin “got caught up in the moment” that Janet would be so slow to react to it? Ladies, lets try an experiment. Let’s broadcast a live feed to every house in America, knowing full well that at least 85% of the population is watching. Let me pull down part of your top to reveal one of your breasts (because lets face it, revealing both would just be trashy), and lets see how quickly you react. I guaran-damn-tee you, you’d move faster than Jesse Owens on speed to cover that puppy up.

Need more evidence it was planned? How many women actually wear this thing on a day-to-day basis?

So now the FCC is getting in on the act. And you know something? Good. For once, I applaud their fascist censorship ideals. Not because I consider this incident inappropriate (although lets face it folks… it kinda was), but because I just don’t want nudity to become shameless self promotion.

Keep the shameless self promotion at skimpy, ladies. Y’gotta leave something to the imagination.

Coming soon, a report on the greatest cover band ever.

Goodnight, and have a pleasant tomorrow.