Jackington Off!

It Was Inevitable

2006-05-06T18:04:00.000-04:00

Here comes the announcement you were all dreading:

I'm ending this blog. I think the time for Jackington Viego has passed. I'm no longer who I was when I started this blog. I'm still going to be around, under another name, and some of you know where to find me. As for the rest of you, well, it's been fun. If you really, really feel the need to stay in contact with me, or at least keep up with whatever it is I'm doing, I'm willing to break through the fourth wall and reveal myself to you. Leave me your Myspace URL and I'll get in contact with you. Just know that I'm leaving the politics behind. If that was your primary reason for visiting, you're going to be disappointed with my other projects.

So that's that. I'm going to keep the blog up, at least for awhile. Who knows? Maybe I'll change my mind. You're certainly free to hope and check back a few times a month. But, really, all good things must come to an end, including Jackington Viego.

See ya around.

I'm Drunk Right Now

2006-04-15T03:31:00.000-04:00

Hey everybody! Yeah. I've been slacking when it comes to this blog. I have been doing stuff, however. Anyway. I'm really drunk right now. I'm buzzing on rum and champagne. Oh yeah. So I went to see a band at a club and then afterward, the band came back to my place. No shit. They just left, but I had a really good time. So living where I'm living, I'm meeting all sorts of new people. And you know what? They're all liberals. But I don't even care anymore. They all agree with all the conservative stuff I push down their throats. As long as you don't present it as a conservative idea, they'll be open to it. And they'll agree. That tells me I'm right. Yeah. So I'm gonna stop typing now, because I'm having to re-type every single word several times. I'm really, really drunk. I can't even feel my lips.

Texas Democrats Want You Arrested For Being Drunk In A Bar

2006-03-27T18:53:00.000-05:00

Why do we go to bars? To get drunk, of course. That is the purpose. If you happen to meet a hot drunk girl who wants to do naughty drunk things to you, that's a bonus. But you're there to either get drunk, or accompany a friend who is there to get drunk. That is the sole reason for the existence of bars. In Texas, however, bars are now considered jail-bait. They lure you in with the promise of over-priced booze and then arrest you when you actually partake. More than 2200 people have been arrested so far.

Who, exactly, is behind this MADDness, you ask? Texas Senator John Whitmire, a Democrat, and his Nazi regime, the Texas Alcoholic Beverage Commission. John Whitmire, like most members of the Democratic Party, does not believe in freedom. No, sir. John Whitmire believes people should be arrested if they could even potentially do something dangerous.

"Even though a public drunk is not planning on driving, that could change in an instant," John Whitmire said. "There is certainly potential danger."

Next he'll come after you for carrying your keys to your car while completely sober. He will defend this action by saying, "Even though Bob is not planning on getting into an accident, that could change in an instant. There is certainly potential danger."

Or how about, "Even though Sally is not planning on tripping and spilling her hot coffee on little Billy, that could change in an instant. There is certainly potential danger."

Or even, "This newborn baby probably isn't planning on growing up and being a serial killer, but that could change in an instant. There is certainly potential danger. I think a post-birth abortion is the best way to deal with this problem."

Think John Whitmire is the only Democrat behind this? Think again. Kino Flores wants to go even further.

Rep. Kino Flores, chairman of the House Licensing and Administrative Procedures, said he plans to call a meeting next month to examine the commission's work.

"We're looking at it and we're going to be looking at it: Are we going too far, or do we need to go further?" the Mission Democrat said.

What a bunch of scum bags. For the sake of irony, I hope these jerks get killed by drunk drivers.

Folks, we live in America, land of the free. How long are we going to stand idly by while the Democrats take our freedoms away? Think this is only happening in Texas? Just wait. It will be in your hometown before you know it.

I've been really, really drunk in bars and clubs. I've been so drunk that I've climbed into dance cages and pole danced. I was once wasted on rum and cokes and lost track of my friends in a really huge club. I wandered around for half an hour in a hazy blur trying to find them. But you know what? I have the right to do that, because this is America. I posed no danger to anyone. I had a designated driver. I am a responsible human being.

Why shouldn't I be allowed to get drunk in a place that serves alcohol by the bucket load? What, exactly, is the point of drinking if not to get drunk? Are you drinking it because of the taste? Please. The low cost? Yeah, right. You're drinking to get drunk. Or at least a little buzzy. But even that can land you in jail if done in a Texas bar.

I Am Not A Republican

2006-03-13T23:30:00.000-05:00

I, Jackington Viego, am not a Republican. I never really was. Yes, I have always voted Republican. Yes, I am a conservative. But I am not a registered Republican. I never joined the party, and I never will. The recent behavior (ports) of the Republican party has left a bad taste in my mouth. So I'm done. I'm officially declaring myself an independent conservative who strongly supports Bush. I'm certainly not a Democrat, but I can no longer align myself with the Republicans as a whole. Perhaps I'll look more into becoming a Libertarian. I agree with much of what they stand for. But, really, my political beliefs don't fall neatly into any political party, so I'm an independent. I believe in doing what's right, regardless of the political party backing it.

Alien Freaking Invasion

2006-03-08T23:03:00.000-05:00

I arrived home to find a bottle of rum and a 12 pack of Vanilla Coke awaiting my consumption. Consume I did. Rum's dirty little secret is it makes you tired. In addition to the buzzing you'll feel throughout your body, you'll soon sit down and find yourself slipping in and out of consciousness. Not a good time to watch television, but that's what I chose to do. I received less than pleasant news today about my outsourced job. Yeah, I'm still employed. That does not necessarily make me happy. Interestingly, this turn of events will likely result in me making nearly double what I made last year. Sickeningly, that doesn't please me the way one might expect it to. So I drink.

I'm not an alcoholic, lest ye think otherwise. This was my first drink in a few weeks. So it hit hard. I was drunk within a couple minutes. A new record for me. It being Wednesday night, there was nothing on my plate, so I decided to catch up on some of my recorded television stories. Midway through one of my shows, I realized I was about to fall asleep, so I paused the program. Then I went to sleep. I didn't check the time beforehand, so I've no idea how long I was out, but I distinctly remember what happened when I awoke.

Sirens woke me up. I live in the city, so the sound of sirens and gunfire and screams of rape are common occurrences, but these sirens had a spooky sound to them. They were not normal. They're the type of sirens you reserve for a city leveling hurricane or an alien invasion. I looked around in a daze you can only have whilst under the influence of half a bottle of rum and less than an hour of restless sleep. I stood up and found my legs were not in the mood for menial tasks such as walking. I managed to force them to walk me to my balcony. I opened the door and the noises got louder. I incredulously scanned the horizon, desperately searching for the source of the destruction.

These sounds were clearly meant to alert one to impending Armageddon, so certainly something must me occurring. I saw nothing. The thought entered my mind that I might not be hearing what I thought I was hearing, so I closed the door and sat back down on my couch. But the sounds continued. I couldn't just sit there and let this happen. So I opened the door again. Louder were the sirens. I closed the door again. Then I opened it. The sound continued. Chills ran down my spine as I watched the skyline in utter horror. I walked out onto the balcony and looked down at the streets below. Nothing was out of place. I went back inside and switched to some live network television. Certainly somebody would be at the scene and bringing me the breaking news as it happens. But there was nothing. I turned off the television and put on my shoes. If the picture box wasn't going to help me out, I'd search the streets myself. Then, inexplicably, the sirens stopped. What the hell? Why? I will never know the reasoning behind these haunting sounds and that bothers me. A lot.

And so ends my tale. I watched some more of my shows, doing the whole watch/pause/sleep routine multiple times. I finally gave up and retreated from the living room. Now my buzz is wearing off. But, hey, at least you got an update. Thank the rum.

Cake

2006-02-26T23:18:00.000-05:00

I ate a piece of cake tonight. And you really don't care, do you? But it got me thinking. Why do people eat cake? It's not the cake; it's the icing. Would you eat cake without icing? Of course not. It's just not all that great. But if you did happen to eat a cake with no icing, people wouldn't judge you for it. Sure, they'd think you were a bit strange, but in the end, nobody would care. Now icing, you'd love to eat that by itself. When you make a cake, you probably even sneak a spoonful for yourself. Maybe you lick the knife after you frost the cake. But could you get away with sitting down and eating a tub of delicious icing? Of course not. People would think you were a gluttonous pig. If nobody was looking, you'd still think poorly of yourself. And why shouldn't you? Who sits down and eats a tub of icing? Really. What's wrong with you?

It's the reason we put up with the bread part of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. It's why we eat fries with our ketchup. Macaroni with our cheese. Crab legs with our melted butter. Pumpkin pie with our whipped cream. It's the freaking reason we actually bake cookies rather than simply eat the cookie dough, which tastes a whole lot better and comes already prepared in a nice, portable, tube. People are judging you. You are judging you. All because of what you eat!

I say enough! Do whatever you want! Sit down and gorge yourself on that stick of butter. Fill your gut with a bottle of catsup. Shove spoonful after spoonful of mayonnaise into your mouth. Like egg yolks? Have at them! Chocolate syrup? Drink up! Cream cheese? Who needs a bagel? Grape Dimetapp? You sound sick enough to me!

Well, I thought I had a point. Oh, yeah, support the ports! Who cares if everyone thinks the deal is a bad idea? They're wrong! Don't oppose something just because a bunch of idiots in Congress tell you to. That would make you a sheep. Me? I'm a wolf. Next time I see a piece of cake, I'm scraping off that icing and eating it. By itself. And then I'm eating the cake. And maybe even the sheep. Waste not, want not, after all.

Outsourcing Jackington

2006-02-19T16:09:00.000-05:00

Everyday companies throughout the country outsource jobs to other countries like India, China, and Mexico. Some people like to blame the government for allowing this to happen. Others blame it on corporate greed. For some companies it's simply a matter of survival. Cut costs or go under. In general, people don't like it because Americans are losing their jobs. But it's not just the fact they're losing jobs, it's the fact they're losing jobs to foreigners. Foreigners!

On Friday I found out my job is being outsourced.

Let that sink in.

Okay. Here's the catch. Some damn foreigner is not going to get my job; an American is. Another company is going to be taking over my department. How do you feel about outsourcing now? One American loses their job so that another American can take it. It's kind of like eminent domain.

There's another catch. I might be the American to steal my job. That's right. The new company is going to give me the chance to prove to them that I am capable of doing my job. They might hire me on. I might also apply for another job within the company I currently work for. I might not get either job. I could end up being one of those damn hippies I'm always yelling at to "get a job!"

I knew this year was going to be a year of changes, but I didn't expect this.

Now, if I was a liberal, I'd blame all of this on George W. Bush and then wind up homeless on the streets. But I'm not a liberal. I understand stuff like this happens and it is not the fault of any individual. I am not going to end up homeless. I am going to get a job. Immediately. I will make as much as or more than I am currently earning. As one door closes another opens.

Wish me luck.

It's Raining

2006-02-16T23:44:00.000-05:00

The rain is coming down like crazy right now. It's kind of cool to hear it from so high up. It's like, the rain is fresh from the clouds with a couple hundred feet less experience than the rain that has the misfortune of hitting the ground. I sometimes wish rain was alive and had feelings. I wish every drop would scream in fear as it falls through the air, knowing it's going to splatter as soon as it hits something. And I wish we could hear those screams, because life would be so much more interesting then. And just like that, as quickly as it started, like a sudden, unexpected shotgun blast courtesy of Dick Cheney, the rain has stopped.

I Have Not Abandoned You!

2006-02-09T00:17:00.000-05:00

Sorry about my absence the past few days. Truthfully, I needed a break. I still need a break. I'm feeling burnt out. It's a shame, really. I've got this pretty new blog and nothing particularly exciting to write about. I was tempted to draw some sort of Mohammed cartoon and see if I could start some violent protests. That would be interesting, now wouldn't it. Yeah, I think I might still do so.

I should probably have some fun stuff to talk about after the weekend, so hang in there! I will say, in my personal life (though not my blogging life), I've started the new year off right. And that's the real reason I haven't been here entirely. I'm trying to enjoy my last few years in my twenties. I'm gonna go out with a bang, even if that means spending less time on the internet and engaging in ultimately meaningless debates. But I'm not going to cut you off completely. As long as Jackington Viego lives, so does this blog. And that's a promise you can take to the bank.

I'm Feeling Pretty Good Right Now

2006-02-03T23:56:00.000-05:00

I've had a bit to drink (rum!) and I'm feeling warm because of it. I've been talking on the phone (something I normally hate doing) for almost an hour and a half to a new friend of mine and we've totally hit it off. She's great. You really can meet cool people on the internet, especially when you're not looking, as I wasn't. I'm going to predict the future now: I see good times and lots of happiness. I'm considering dropping the daily updates idea. It's been fun and all, but personal relationships should probably take precedence. If things work out with her that's what's likely going to happen. Mourn not the loss of daily updates; rather rejoice in my happiness.

Sometimes It's Okay To Kill

2006-02-02T23:13:00.000-05:00

I was at work. Lunchtime was approaching. I ordered a pizza. I left to go pick up the pizza. I needed cash so I stopped at the bank first. After getting my cash I got in my car. I couldn't back out because a thousand idiots kept walking and driving behind my vehicle, despite the presence of my reverse lights indicating that I wanted to leave. After an hour of this nonsense I finally managed to leave the parking lot. I drove down the road and got stuck behind a car driving fifteen miles per hour under the speed limit. I hit my horn. The driver of the car slammed on the brakes. I then got into the turn lane and sped past the car with my middle finger up. I got to the parking lot of the pizza place. I saw a spot I wanted to back into. There was an oncoming car and I allowed it to pass me so that I would have room to back into the space. The driver of this car then stole my space. Now, after all that, I ask you, would it still be a crime for me to kill the driver of that car? Because I did. The bitch is dead now.

I'm Going Out For A Bit

2006-02-01T21:44:00.000-05:00

I've got an unplanned event to attend, so I likely won't be able to make a decent post tonight. If anything interesting happens at the event I'll tell you all about it. Have a good night.

Picture Of The Day

2006-01-31T22:54:00.000-05:00

City Driving Isn't So Bad

2006-01-30T19:33:00.000-05:00

People everywhere don't know how to drive. But there are varying degrees of driving ineptitude. In the city nobody uses turn signals. In the suburbs they do... as soon as their turn begins. Or worse yet, for three miles before they turn. In the city drivers tend to go above the speed limit, but only slightly and that's still too slow for me. In the suburbs fifteen below was normal.

There doesn't seem to be a fast lane on the city highways. Everybody just drives slow. But at least the pace is constant. My old route required lots of patience and understanding. I mean, how can people be expected to not get in a car accident every morning? That's an unreasonable request. Trucks tend to use every single lane, despite the fact it is illegal for a truck to drive in the left hand lane for an extended period of time. In fact, they will all drive right next to each other like gay cowboys and block the entire highway. Why do they do this? There are no cops. None. The only time I've ever seen a cop on my commute is at the scene of an accident. It's the complete opposite of my previous drive. One can make a valid argument that the more cops there are, the more accidents there will be. People slam on their brakes in the presence of cops. That causes accidents.

Overall, my drive is much better in the city. There seem to be more bad drivers in the city, but when they get in an accident they simply speed off rather than block the road whilst exchanging insurance information and waiting for the police to arrive. It's very considerate.

One thing about the city that I still find incredibly annoying is the presence of one way streets. Oftentimes I'll look at a map to figure out which way I should take to get to a new destination. Maps don't tell you when a street only flows in one direction. Finding a new route on the fly is really fun! I haven't gotten lost so far, though, so I'm not doing too bad. When all else fails, find a highway and go back home. There are signs everywhere telling you which direction to take to get to the nearest highway. They're kind of like fire exits. When the shit hits the fan, this is how to get the hell out!

I'm Surrounded By Liberals

2006-01-29T23:15:00.000-05:00

I've been hanging out with a lot of liberals lately. A lot. They're all over. In fact, it's nearly impossible to find a conservative around these parts. I saw a car the other day with a "W '04" bumper sticker. I assumed they were lost and offered directions on how to get back on the highway.

Normally I'd attempt to put liberals in their place, but I'm trying to build some relationships here. You know. Friends. So when politics have come up recently, I've kept my mouth shut. It's difficult. Really, really difficult. Most of them have no clue about where I stand politically. They probably just assume I'm one of them. So I just sit back and listen. I take it all in.

A party spontaneously formed at my place the other night. I'm still not quite sure how it happened. The important thing is the girls outnumbered the guys. So we're all drinking and well, drinking, and suddenly politics is the topic of the day. After a few rounds of Bush bashing, Hillary Clinton running for President came up. I was pleased to find my hatred of Hillary was shared by my not conservative peers. That gives me hope for 2008. I hope Hillary Clinton runs. Many of them said they'd vote for a Republican before they'd vote for Hillary.

After that we moved on to lighter topics and I could once again share my opinions. Maybe one day I can tell them my secret. One day...

Welcome!

2006-01-28T23:48:00.000-05:00

Welcome to the new blog, Jackington Off! This blog is a direct continuation of Jackington Viego - Power Through Irreverence™. I've brought along all of my best and funniest posts. The rest are still available at the old site and will be indefinitely.

All posts that were written before I moved to the city are considered "Classic Jackington" and are labeled as such. If you're relatively new to my blogs, now would be a good time to go through the archives. Only the best posts are there so there's no crap to wade through!

Unfortunately with the move all comments had to be lost. You'll just have to leave new ones. I've switched from using HaloScan to Blogger's default commenting system. The reason I've done this is because HaloScan removes your comments after a few months if you don't pay for their service.

A lot of work has gone into creating this new blog, so I'd appreciate your comments. There's more to it than you think. Just try refreshing a couple times to see. ;) I've tried to keep the design simple and fast loading. Let me know if you have any troubles.

My first real post will go up tomorrow in celebration of the Chinese New Year. I'm going to do my best to keep all future posts high quality. That's my Chinese New Year's resolution.

Who Turned Off The Global Warming?

2006-01-25T23:44:00.000-05:00

I'm sitting here in my tower with a space heater between my legs and I'm freezing. It's just really, really cold. I'd forgotten what January was supposed to feel like. We've been having fifty degree days and now, all of a sudden, the weather thinks it's okay to just drop the temperature on me. Not cool. Not cool at all. Er... wait. Anyway, what with the price of natural gas being what it is, it's just too expensive to heat the place with the furnace for extended periods of time. And the three layers of clothing I've covered myself with are insufficient. If I stop posting it's because the hypothermia got me. Don't take it personally.

I Had Busy Evening

2006-01-24T23:44:00.000-05:00

This evening I went grocery shopping and I did the laundry. There was no drinking involved and nobody got hurt. Between these things I managed to find time to watch The Aristocrats. The movie was not as funny as I thought it would be but it was certainly worth watching. It is a documentary about a joke. A dirty, horrid, filthy joke. A joke I have myself told in the past. I try to keep my posts here relatively clean (not that I haven't crossed lines before, but, I mean, there is a limit) so I won't repeat it here. Not that I could. Reading it is not much fun. It's all in the delivery. If you see me in person, and some of you will, feel free to ask me to tell you the joke. I will. But don't say I didn't warn you. It is absolutely filthy. Anyway, if you're not easily offended give this movie a rent. There's a short South Park clip in it that is totally hilarious. It's not something from the show, so unless you've downloaded the clip (Illegally! Shame on you!) you probably haven't seen it before. Gotta go now. There's more laundry to do. My room smells like vanilla.

That Damn Bitch Stole My Money!

2006-01-22T17:45:00.000-05:00

As you all know, I went out drinking last night. Bar hopping. We were out, having a good time, whatever. So we wind up in this one bar. I go to order some drinks. One of my friends hands me a few bucks to pay for his. The total comes to $11.

I look at the pile of cash I have. I have a bunch of singles, but not eleven of them. I also have a twenty. Then, being the kind of person I am, I realize I don't want a pocket full of singles. I just don't. So I get clever. I hand the bartender $21 with the goal of getting a ten back rather than a five and four ones. So she takes my money, walks over to the cash register and deposits it. Then she walks over to another customer. Notice something missing? I got no change back. I call her back over and ask for my change. "You gave me eleven dollars," she says. An argument ensues. She refuses to give me my money.

My recourse here is nothing. There is absolutely nothing I can do. I could ask to speak to the manager, but who do you think the manager is going to believe, the bartender or the guy holding a (now very expensive) rum and coke? Yeah. My friend encourages me to take his empty beer bottle and hurl it through the glass cooler behind Bartender Bitch™. I was drunk, but I was not that drunk. Jail time was not one of my New Year's resolutions.

I made sure to tell the people around me about the Bartender Bitch™. I also told people outside after we left. And now I'm telling you. Don't go to Cosmo's in Covington, KY. Ever. If you happen to be in the area, however, go in and spread my tale of woe. And call the bartender a bitch if she's there. She had long brown hair and thinks she's hot. I'll pass. As for me, I've learned a valuable lesson: bring a fat wad of singles to the bar and pay with them. Exact change only.

Ha Ha!

2006-01-18T23:46:00.000-05:00

Remember that woman who claimed to have found a finger in her bowl of Wendy's chili? It's been known from the beginning that she was a dirty liar and now she's getting what she deserves: nine years in prison. Her husband was sentenced to twelve. Yes, they deserve it. The sentences are not unreasonable. What is unreasonable is that you can get less time for committing murder. Still, it's nice to know a couple more scum bags are off the street and rotting away in a prison cell.

Things Are Coming Together

2006-01-17T23:17:00.000-05:00

Everything is starting to feel normal. My mail is now showing up (after a couple phone conversations with the post office). I've been eating pizza every night. Things feel right.

Now, to answer the question below. All the guesses were too high. What? Do you guys think I'm an alcoholic or something? ;) Come to think of it, maybe I am. I've had alcohol thirteen out of the first seventeen days of this year. Anyway, I had six shots of rum because I ordered three double rum and cokes. They were expensive and it probably wasn't worth it. Since the bar is within walking distance, my best bet for the future is to drink a whole bunch first, then go to the bar before the alcohol takes effect, order a single drink, and act like I'm a lightweight. That should work. Did I mention they have free pool?

Rude Awakening

2006-01-12T23:02:00.000-05:00

I was sound asleep last night. You know, having a good sleep and everything. Getting my rest in. That sort of thing. I was having dreams I can no longer remember. But you know how an outside sound can infiltrate your dreams and change them? Then everything seems wrong. So wrong you wake up dazed and confused? That happened to me. Last night. I awoke to the sound of the police yelling into a megaphone.

I shot up in bed and looked around. What did I do? Why was I being yelled at? Wait. They're not yelling at me. They're not saying, "Come out with your hands up!" They're saying "Driver! Step out of the vehicle!" That's not me because I wasn't driving, I was sleeping. In a bed. I looked out the window. In the middle of the street was a car surrounded by several police cars and armed cops. My first thought was, "Holy shit!" My second thought required action. I moved to a different window. One where I could see my car. It was safe, for now. That is, until the bullets started flying.

But the bullets stayed inside their chambers. After about ten minutes of yelling, the driver eventually stepped out of the vehicle and gave up. A wise move as death would certainly have resulted, otherwise. Then they started yelling at the passenger! "Passenger! Step out of the vehicle! Turn around, put your hands behind your head and step backwards toward me!" The police then arrested the passenger. After confirming there was nobody else in the vehicle, the show ended.

I have no idea what those fine, upstanding citizens, who were almost certainly innocent and victims of racial profiling, were accused of doing, but it must have been very bad, indeed.

Now, don't get me wrong, my neighborhood is not like that. See, this is simply where the chase ended. I have no idea where it began, but it must have been far away due to the number of police that managed to get in on the chase.

Anyway, it all feels like a really strange dream, but I'm quite certain it was real. Living in the city is, at the very least, interesting. Yep. I'm buying a gun.

Yep. The Post Office Sucks. For Sure.

2006-01-11T23:51:00.000-05:00

So mail started showing up at my new place. For two days. Then it stopped. No more mail. Then yesterday I got an e-mail from my insurance company telling me mail they had tried to send me was returned to them. For no reason whatsoever. That's just great. If I don't get mail tomorrow I'm going postal. I swear it.

My Mail Is Now Arriving And I Still Hate The Post Office

2006-01-05T23:49:00.000-05:00

I arrived home today and found some of my mail had been delivered to my new address. Joy. But that was not my ultimate goal. No, sir. I want a P.O. Box. I simply don't trust that my mail is safe in the unsecured mail box provided in my building. Today I went to the post office to get one. If security was my concern, I won't have a problem here - even I can't get into the box! They gave me one of those boxes with a combination lock that features letters rather than numbers. I guess keys are no longer good enough. The combination they gave me doesn't work. That's just perfect. The best part? I can only be helped by some woman who works in the morning. Guess what, post office assholes? I work in the morning. I can't be at the post office trying to figure out how to work the decoder ring on the box when I have to be at work. Jerks. The point of a P.O. Box is convenience. There should be somebody who can resolve my problems during regular post office hours, not just in the morning. If somebody can sell me a box, certainly somebody can be there to resolve box related difficulties. I now understand why postal workers go postal. Their fellow employees are morons.

This Is Where I Live

2006-01-04T22:13:00.000-05:00

I don't often do things like this, but I thought I'd give you all a partial view of my new place. This is a view from my balcony. Who wants to come over?

I Hate The Post Office

2006-01-03T22:37:00.000-05:00

I submitted my address change to the post office last week. I have yet to receive any mail at my new address. Where the hell is my mail? What is the post office doing with it? Nobody knows. All I know is I'm pissed. Whatever is going on, it's unacceptable. I need my mail. Who can I sue over this?

What A Way To Start The New Year

2006-01-01T22:37:00.000-05:00

One of the first things I did in 2006 involved removing alcohol (among other things) from my system the same way it went in. That didn't feel good. Not one bit. That's what I get for going so long without having a drink. I'll try not to let it happen again.

But the end of 2005 went very well. I had fun at the party. Friends gave me gifts which I probably didn't deserve but I'm thankful for anyway. I got to recite lines from He-Man. But I forgot to make a New Year's resolution. So I'm going to do that now.

In 2006 I will make every aspect of my life better. That's a tall order, for sure, but I think I can do it. Why not, right? The only excuse for not doing so is laziness. That's something I'm really good at being, so if I can solve that problem I can solve every other problem I might have. You know who made me lazy? It was Jeeves. Now that he's not around and I have to do everything for myself, I've been slightly less lazy. So, in a way, Jeeves is saving the day again. I'll miss the guy. I've heard he found a better job helping someone far richer and lazier than myself. To Jeeves!

I Have Found A New Place To Live

2005-12-10T20:35:00.000-05:00

The deals still need to be finalized and the papers still need to be signed, but I have found a place... in the city. I've been living in the middle of nowhere for the past several years. That's all about to change. I'm moving into a building downtown. I'll be in the top floor of the building, with a deck that has a view of the entire city. I will look down from my building and gaze upon my new neighbors, who will be rich, poor, and everything in-between. Things are about to get interesting. I will, of course, let you know about some of the more entertaining things that are certain to happen to me.

Of course, living downtown has some disadvantages, one being an increased likelihood of being victimized by crime. I will be combating this on the homefront by installing security cameras and training beasts such as pitbulls, rottweilers, and ligers to guard the premises. I'm also considering a roof-top sniper, but that might be crossing the line, not to mention expensive.

What I would like to know is, should I carry a gun? We have a nice little thing called conceal and carry. That means I can pack some heat. Do you think I should?

What Next?

2005-12-02T23:44:00.000-05:00

Everything just seems to be piling on. Lately it's been one thing after another. At the moment I'm being forced to make some difficult personal decisions. I don't know exactly what's going to happen or what I should do. The only thing I know for sure is in less than a month my life will be completely different from anything I've ever experienced before. I could wind up being happier living a simpler, yet in some ways much more complex, life. Or I could end up in a pit of despair from which I will never return.

I've also been giving considerable thought into just selling off all my non-essential stuff and living my life on the road, drifting from town to town, and experiencing all that America has to offer. If I had more money saved up, this would actually be a viable option. But the reality is, it's not. Money aside, I'm not even the type to do something like that. I don't like most people. I do my best to avoid them, with the exception of my friends. It's not really that I'm anti-social. I love hanging out with people. My problem is I notice every single flaw. Every single annoying habit. Every single personality quirk. People, in general, drive me nuts. I do realize, of course, that I am not perfect. Far from it. But I am who I am. Something in my genetic code tells me to be very selective about who I associate with. I don't want to be this way, but I am. I wish I could just walk up to complete strangers, introduce myself, and make a quick, if short-lived friendship. But I can't. I look for quality. If I don't see a future with a person, I won't even make an effort. I like doing things right the first time.

It is this perfectionist attitude that has gotten me through life so far. I tend to do things right and make few mistakes. But in order to achieve that, I will usually take the easy way out. I'll rarely take risks. This has gotten me moderate success, and I've been satisfied. But I don't feel as though I've achieved anything. I haven't gotten what I've truly wanted. I'm not sure what it is I want, but I know it's not what I have.

Now I'm here being forced to make difficult decisions with little time to choose the safe and perfect path. There is a clear safe and easy option and there is a far more risky option. I want to take the risky option. I can see good things coming from it. I can also see a future life of misery. With the safe option I'll wind up back in a similar situation to what I previously had. But I don't think I want that anymore. What I'm really looking for is option C: None of the above. It just doesn't exist.

I'm Being Evicted

2005-11-29T22:23:00.000-05:00

My bomb shelter has gone way over budget. So much, in fact, that I am now completely broke. I'm going to lose the mansion and probably have to fire Jeeves. I'm currently in the process of finding a new place to stay. I have about two weeks to get my stuff out and leave. I'll try to let you know in advance, but if the updates stop it is because I don't have internet access. This really sucks. Yes it does, indeed.

Classic Jackington: Come See The Face Of Evil

2005-11-28T19:14:00.000-05:00

Would you defend a man personally responsible for the deaths of hundreds of thousands of people? Would you defend a man who raised his sons to rape as many women as they wanted? Would you defend a man who brought attacks upon his own country by never once giving a straight answer when asked about his country's possession of WMDs?

Well, this man would. His name is Ramsey Clark and he is a former U.S. attorney general. Take a good look at his face. It is quite creepy and disturbing. In fact, it is quite difficult to look at. The reason for this is because Ramsey Clark is evil. Evil blackens your insides and consumes your soul. Prolonged exposure to evil will eventually manifest itself in your physical appearance. Look into his eyes. You can easily see Ramsey Clark is a soulless man.

Mr. Clark has joined Saddam Hussein's legal defense team. Two of Saddam's lawyers have been murdered since his trial started. And, well, I hate to say this but, they deserved it. You see, when you defend evil people bad things happen to you. This is not the same as an attorney defending a murderer or a rapist. Those attorneys don't believe their clients are innocent. They're not defending them out of the goodness of their hearts. They're doing it for the money. Plain and simple.

Ramsey Clark is not defending Saddam for the money. He is not defending Saddam because he is a court appointed attorney. He is defending Saddam because he believes Saddam Hussein should be set free. He doesn't believe Saddam committed any crimes. That proves Ramsey Clark is an evil person. The act of defending Saddam is not what made Ramsey Clark evil; he was evil long before that. This is just the proof. Rest assured, Ramsey Clark will soon be burning in hell for his crimes against humanity, as will Saddam Hussein.

Take a look at the photo again, especially the eyes. Burn the image into your retinas. There are more evil people in the world. It will help to know what they look like. You can see a person's soul by looking into their eyes. The lack of a soul is the first sign of an evil presence. Soullessness occurs long before evil mangles the physical body. Use this knowledge to avoid evil people. Remember, though it may be morally okay to kill an evil person (just as it is okay to kill zombies and vampires), it is still against the law, so don't kill these evil people unless you can make it look like self defense.

Who am I to decide if Ramsey Clark is evil? Let's do this the old fashioned two choice democratic way. Have your say by voting in the new poll over on the right.

This is a reposted story which was originally published here. The contents may have been altered and external links may no longer work.

Classic Jackington: Wow.

2005-11-15T00:33:00.000-05:00

This is insane. A blind and deaf woman is suing her doctor for her suffering because she never should have been born. Yeah. You read that right. Now read the whole thing:

In 'wrongful life' suit, disabled woman blames doctor for letting her be born

By Emanuella Grinberg
Court TV

A blind and deaf Australian woman who claims she never should have been born is suing a doctor for a lifetime of suffering in the country's first "wrongful life" suit.

Alexia Harriton, 24, is seeking compensation from the doctor who misdiagnosed rubella in the first trimester of her mother's pregnancy, claiming Olga Harriton would have aborted her had she been aware of the potential birth defects arising from the illness.

Lawyers for the Sydney woman argued in Australia's highest court Thursday that Dr. Paul Stephens is liable for the costs arising from a lifetime of medical treatment that Harriton needs to survive.

His negligence resulted in the birth of a child who is "profoundly disabled," a media spokesperson for the law firm representing Harriton told Courttv.com.

Harriton's lawyers claim that Stephens had a duty to Olga Harriton and to her unborn daughter to inform her of the risk of the infection passing to her child.

"Had the rubella been diagnosed, Olga [Harriton] would have exercised her lawful right to terminate the pregnancy," court documents state.

The suit says Harriton, 24, who was born mentally retarded, spastic, deaf and blind, is in need of constant round-the-clock care from which she "can look forward to no improvement" in the future.

Harriton's attorneys asked Australia's Court of Appeals Thursday for unspecified damages associated with Alexia's "rubella affected life," including the costs of special care, medical expenses, housing and other expenses, according to a press statement. The lawyers would only speak to Courttv.com through their spokesperson, Kerry O'Shea.

A statute of limitations prevents Harriton's parents from filing the claim, making the case the first in Australia to be filed against a health-care specialist by a child born with congenital defects.

Harriton's suit, which was initially filed in 2002, was denied by lower courts on the grounds that the doctor did not breach his duty to the mother or the child.

"The defendant has not caused the infant's injury but merely failed to prevent its birth," Justice Timothy Studdert wrote in a June 2002 judgment.

Studdert also cited rulings from foreign courts, including the United States, which addressed the esoteric difficulties of putting a dollar tag on "the value of non existence" as compared to the costs of living with a disability.

"Whether it is better never to have been born at all than to have been born with even gross deficiencies is a mystery more properly to be left to the philosophers and the theologians," the New York Court of Appeals wrote in a 1986 decision rejecting a similar "wrongful life" claim. "The implications of any such proposition are staggering."

A similar claim had greater success in California, where the state appeals court found that a testing laboratory was responsible for the medical costs associated with the care of a child whose parents were not informed of the potential for a certain genetic disease being passed onto the fetus.

Alongside Harriton's suit is a similar claim from a 5-year-old Australian boy who was born with permanent brain damage and cerebral palsy after doctors failed to detect a blood disorder present in his father's system.

Keeden Waller's parents have filed suit on his behalf, claiming they would have sought out other methods of conception had they been aware of the potential for birth defects.

Waller's claims were also heard Thursday in conjunction with Harriton's, after a New South Wales appeals court rejected both their claims in 2004 in a 2-to-1 decision.

Those justices also said it was impossible to determine whether no life was better than a life of suffering, or to assess liability for that suffering.

Appeals Court Chief Justice James Spiegelman also found that the doctors did not breach any duty to the children.

The dissenting justice, however, found the doctors' negligence especially grave in light of the fact that the disabilities were easily detectable and preventable.

The High Court is expected to render its decision in the next few months.

Somebody should sue this woman's parents for extreme stupidity. Ignoring the merits of the case for a moment, the lawsuit itself is illegal. This woman, being blind, deaf, and retarded, has absolutely no idea what a court is. She has no idea what it means to sue somebody. She did not file this lawsuit. Her parents don't have the right to file a lawsuit for her. She doesn't want to sue because she doesn't know what that is. She likely doesn't know what anything is. She has never experienced anything other than taste, smell, and touch. That's it. She can't sue. Period.

Moving on. "Wrongful life?" Are you kidding me? If she doesn't want to live, she should kill herself. Of course, she doesn't know what life is. She doesn't know what death is. She doesn't know anything. She doesn't think she never should have lived. Her parents think that. If she was that much of a burden, they should have given her up for adoption. You don't get to change your mind about it twenty-four years later. I'm sorry. You don't. They made the decision to keep their deaf, blind, and retarded child, not the doctor.

Now, this might sound heartless, but I've often thought about what I would do if I had a retarded child. The conclusion I came to was that I would give it up for adoption. That doesn't make me a bad person. It makes me realistic. I'm not the type of person who has the patience to deal with something like that. The child will be much better off with somebody who wants to care for a retarded child. Those people exist. I'm not one of them. Neither are this girl's parents. After 24 years of regrets they've decided to make somebody pay.

Even if the doctor misdiagnosed the problem, he is not responsible. It happens. Doctors misdiagnose stuff all the time. How many people have died of cancer because the doctor didn't find it in time? Is that the doctor's fault? No, it isn't. This is not malpractice. It is not the same as leaving a surgical instrument inside of a surgery patient. It is not the same as prescribing an inappropriate medication. There was no cure for this problem, other than death. The doctor could have done nothing to prevent this, other than abort the child.

Let's look at this from that perspective. Richard Johnson, 65, goes in for a checkup. He hasn't been feeling well lately. It turns out he has a terminal illness. There is no cure and the disease kills one hundred percent of patients within ten years. Somehow the doctor misses it. Over the next several years, Richard Johnson gets worse and worse. He's in quite a bit of pain. Finally, around year nine, Richard Johnson gets off his stubborn ass and visits another doctor. This doctor figures out what's wrong with Richard and tells him he's got less than a year to live. The doctor also tells Richard that he's had the disease for at least nine years. His previous doctor should have caught it. Richard thinks back over the last nine years. He thinks back to all the pain. He thinks back to the thousands of dollars of over-the-counter painkillers he purchased. He then thinks about how there's no cure. Richard Johnson sues the first doctor because, in Richard Johnson's words, "I would have taken my life nine years ago if I had known I was going to die a slow, painful death. Give me four hundred and fifty billion dollars so that I can at least enjoy my last year of life. There's no point offing myself now when I'm so close to the finish anyway."

Sounds ridiculous, right? Well, so does the real case. If I was the judge in this case, I'd sentence the parents to some jail time for bringing such a ridiculous lawsuit to court. I think twenty-four years sounds about right.

This is a reposted story which was originally published here. The contents may have been altered and external links may no longer work.

Classic Jackington: I'm Going To Make A Bomb Shelter

2005-11-14T20:04:00.000-05:00

One of my credit card companies has raised the limit of one of my credit cards to an excessively high amount. Now, since I'm a responsible type of person, this extra credit is largely inconsequential. But it got me thinking. I could actually use this credit for something I've always wanted. I've wanted this since I was a small child dreaming of bombs dropping from the sky, viral plagues ravaging the human race, and packs of roving, irradiated mutant zombies who eat the flesh of the living. Any one of these scenarios is likely to occur during my lifetime, so my object of desire is at once lustful and necessary.

I have always wanted a bomb shelter. Not just one of those ready-to-install-buy-two-get-one-free dealies from the fifties, but something that could withstand a ten-thousand year nuclear holocaust. I'm talking a huge complex about a thousand feet below the surface. This bomb shelter will have it's own self contained, renewable power source, dozens of living quarters capable of housing a few hundred people (gotta be able to repopulate once the radiation levels drop), enough weapons to take down an entire army of invaders, full surface and subterranean monitoring stations, radio receivers and transmitters for contact with the outside world, entertainment rooms with giant projection screens, surround sound, and movie and video game libraries, a quarantined full service medical facility with doctors on staff, and a kitchen stocked with enough food and supplies to last thousands of years.

With my new credit limit, my dream can finally come true. I've just ordered Jeeves to set my plans into motion. I will be creating a list of names of those who will be permitted to survive inside my bomb shelter. It is important to note that if you are exposed, your admission will be denied, despite being on the list. Let me know if you want in. It's first come, first served, with the exception of the favoritism I will show certain people.

This is a reposted story which was originally published here. The contents may have been altered and external links may no longer work.

Classic Jackington: What? Were You Expecting Another Fluffy Animal?

2005-11-10T23:58:00.000-05:00

I know you all loved the fluffy animals, but there is always too much of a good thing. So today you will get no fluffy animals. Instead you get me. I may not be fluffy but I can still keep you warm. Unless you're a dude. Not that there's anything wrong with that...

Today I'd like to tell you about a guy I knew back in high school. I wouldn't exactly say we were friends, but we'd hang out on occasion. The guy was a complete asshole, but never to me. He was one of those guys who loved to mess with people. Usually he'd just pick a target who wouldn't fight back. He'd have his laugh and move on to his next victim. He used to drive around in a beat up old 1972 station wagon. The thing was a piece of crap. I caught a ride with him a few times and I can't recall ever arriving at our destination without the thing breaking down along the way. Armed with this information, the guy never should have gotten into the situation he found himself in. This is the story of Kenny Paulson.

Kenny Paulson cruised down the street in his dad's 1972 station wagon. Outfitted in a pair of thirteen dollar sunglasses and a fake leather jacket, Kenny was the epitome of cool. As he'd pass the ladies on the street he'd slow his car, roll down the window, point his finger like a gun and give them his famous, "Hey, tiger!" The ladies would respond by playing hard to get. But Kenny knew. One day he'd have them.

But Kenny didn't just save his hey tigers for the ladies; he'd hand them out to the guys, too. Most of the guys would just shrug it off. Kenny Paulson was an asshole. Kenny Paulson was looking for a reaction. If you ignored Kenny Paulson, he'd go away.

One day Kenny noticed a couple of incredibly large, shirtless men standing in a driveway. And by large I don't mean fat. These guys could snap Kenny in half like a twig. Kenny didn't care. He was in his dad's 1972 station wagon. They'd never be able to catch him, should it come to that. Kenny slowed his car, rolled down the window, pointed his finger like a gun and gave them his famous, "Hey, tiger!"

The large, shirtless men ignored Kenny. That wasn't going to work for Kenny. Not today. Kenny stopped his car. He tried again. "Hey, tiger!" Again there was no response. It was time to bring out the big guns. "Why don't you guys put on a shirt? You look like a couple queers!" That worked!

"Do you have a problem, kid?" asked the larger of the two large, shirtless men.

"There's no problem, tiger," answered Kenny.

"Then keep driving," said the other large, shirtless man.

By now there was a line of stopped cars filled with angry, impatient drivers, behind Kenny. But Kenny didn't care. He was an asshole. "I'll move when you two queers put some clothes on," Kenny said.

The two large, shirtless men gave each other the "let's go kick the shit out of this guy" look. Kenny noticed the look and knew when enough was enough. The men walked toward Kenny's dad's 1972 station wagon.

"You have a nice day, tiger," said Kenny as he stepped on the gas. There was no response. Kenny's station wagon had broken down. "Move, damn you, move!" Kenny yelled at the car in vain.

The two large, shirtless men arrived at Kenny's vehicle. They opened up the door and pulled Kenny out. He screamed for help but he couldn't be heard over the angry honking of car horns. With a gentle precision the men escorted Kenny into their house. Kenny knew he was in trouble when he saw a painting of a naked man hanging over the love seat. These men would be the first and only people to respond to Kenny's famous "Hey, tiger."

The poor guy was never the same after that day. He became a quiet loner. He stopped messing with people. One could say Kenny learned his lesson.

For years I wondered what made Kenny change. He never told me while we were in school. I finally managed to pry this information out of Kenny when I ran into him a couple months ago. I have no idea if it's true or if he's gone back to messing with people, myself included. It doesn't matter. This is for you, Kenny.

"Hey, tiger!"

This is a reposted story which was originally published here. The contents may have been altered and external links may no longer work.

Classic Jackington: Today's Fluffy Animal

2005-11-09T22:49:00.000-05:00