SomethingSoWrong

Happy 500th Blog SomethingSoWrong

That’s right…we actually made it to 500 posts. Un-fucking-believable, eh? So, in the spirit of celebration, we’ve chosen our favourite 3.2% of posts to share with you. Enjoy!

Rifleman answers frequently asked questions about Ash Wednesday


Rifleman tells a story about driving to work


Custardstyle tells us about the homeless


Custardstyle and his love of tacos


Why the 2 Live Crew are geniuses


Destro drops a line to Cobra Commander


Fat Nasty!


You’ve Worked Hard…You Deserve a Bentley


Cartoon Greatness


Rifleman and his family versus some fucking emo kids


Condoms are interesting


‘Shank Takes a Ride


The President is Racist


Duke of G.I. Joe gets interviewed


The Dallas Stars and their crazy third sweater


I Hate the Fucking Gym

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5I0U4P9Imis]

…because President Bush might be…

Leaving the poker party, late as usual, two friends compared notes. “I can never fool my wife,” the first complained. “I turn off the car’s engine and coast into the garage, take off my shoes, sneak upstairs, and undress in the bathroom. But she always wakes up and yells at me for being out so late and leaving her alone.”

“You’ve got the wrong technique, my friend,” his buddy replied. “I roar into the garage, slam the door, stomp up the steps, rub my hand on my wife’s ass, and ask, ’How ’bout a little?’ and she pretends to be asleep.”

Several years ago, upon my return from my first trip to Toronto, I wrote an a sarcastic article for my previous website portraying Canada as a totalitarian country along the lines of North Korea. This article was carried over to SSW where it has languished–mostly likely unnoticed, for years. Then on Saturday, I received the following hate mail about it, which I will dissect following the complete email.

I find your article, behind the icy curtain ignorant, feeble minded and incredibly un-educated…
According to your american media, we are a bunch of hairy northern oafs…
too bad that statistics show that we are far more educated, we have a far lower obesity rate, and harsher immigration policies. You obviously did not do your research, and as my Aunt is one of our border controls, there is no possible way that we would even remotely refer to our country as a republic…that is illegal.
Also, we rarely ever use the word, “Eh”.
Stop paying so much attention to your propaganda media, and look at the actual statistics and facts…which were pretty much proven to be true by your lack of intelligent matter situated in your article, as well as your “holier than thou” American attitude.

And statistically speaking, American chicks are fat.

Response
I find your article, behind the icy curtain ignorant, feeble minded and incredibly un-educated…

First off, you must be both feeble-minded and incredibly un-educated that you can’t recognize parody and sarcasm when you read it. This article is obviously not real…any moron can see that. You make me wonder if Rick Mercer wasn’t, in fact, joking when he said in one of his segments that “80% of Canadians are retarded”. Actually, I know that’s a joke, because pretty much every Canadian I’ve ever met has been intelligent and witty, with a gift for self-deprecating humo(u)r. You mus be the only overly-serious, vaguely-retarded Canadian in the entire country.

According to your american media, we are a bunch of hairy northern oafs…

Umm…you should probably capitalize “american”, especially since I’m making the effort to capitalize “Canadian”. And what the fuck is a “caf”? You know, in all my years of listening to, reading and watching “american media”, I’ve never once heard Canadians refered to as “a bunch of hairy northern cafs”. And I’m pretty sure that a Lexis-Nexis search would back me up on that.

too bad that statistics show that we are far more educated, we have a far lower obesity rate, and harsher immigration policies.

Show me the statistics.

You obviously did not do your research,

Well, of course not…it’s fucking parody. My research was driving from Buffalo, NY, to Toronto. If I were actually writing an article for something like National Geographic, then, yeah, I might have done some research.

and as my Aunt is one of our border controls, there is no possible way that we would even remotely refer to our country as a republic

So, your Aunt is one of those unpleasant people I have to deal with every time I fly to Toronto? You must get your own unpleasantness from that side of the family. And of course I know it’s not a republic…by definition, a republic has autonomous rule by the home people, such as here in the United States, where we gave up the notion of having a King or Queen a couple of hundred years ago. And don’t go saying that “Canada’s not a monarchy…it’s just a member of the Commonwealth”…in my book, if you have royalty on your money, you’re a monarchy. Oh, and it’s incredibly lame that you have to borrow the queen of another country to be the Queen of Canada.

Also, we rarely ever use the word, “Eh”.

You’re right about this…On my several visits to Canada, I’ve rarely heard it. However, it’s become such a cliched element of Canadian culture, that I would’ve been remiss not to include it. Even Canadians make fun of it, such as Rick Moranis and Dave Thomas as Bob and Doug McKenzie, eh?

Stop paying so much attention to your propaganda media, and look at the actual statistics and facts…which were pretty much proven to be true by your lack of intelligent matter situated in your article, as well as your “holier than thou” American attitude.

I don’t generally pay that much attention to our “propaganda media” here in the States…in fact, and I imagine you’ll find this shocking, I tend to get most of my news from the BBC and–gasp–the CBC. (Thanks to Sirius). And once again, this was a work of parody and sarcasm…it wasn’t intended to be a real travelogue. As for my “holier than thou” American attitude, that was part of the humo(u)r in the article–parodying the typical attitude Americans have when visiting other countries. But that point was apparently lost on you.

Way to be a stereotype…
Hope that works well for you, and it appears that the CBC seems to be quite accurate in their satirical representations of Americans.

And you complain about our “propaganda media”.

And statistically speaking, American chicks are fat.

Our food is better, what do you expect?

I don’t hate Canadians…in fact, most people that know me would say that I’m rather fond of them. And I don’t hate Canada either. If I hated Canada, would I have visited it at least once a year for the last six years? Would I have a Canadian flag in my bedroom? Would my favo(u)rite hockey team, after the Dallas Stars, be the Maple Leafs? Would I have written as-yet-unpublished novel that takes place in Toronto and promised myself a maple leaf tattoo upon publication?

I don’t think so.

In fact, I’d love to have a nice summer home somewhere on the shores of the Great Lakes in Canada, such as in Niagara-on-the-Lake. I’d love to be able to get some Timbits and a double-double whenever I wanted or pick up a two-four of Sleeman’s on the way home from work.

If I didn’t know any Canadians, your email would make me think all Canadians were overly-serious, blind to humo(u)r, vaguely-retarded fools, but luckily, I know better. And I will continue to patronize Canada as a destination.

As most of you know, I call the great(?) city of Dallas home. Actually, that’s not true…I live in Valley Ranch, a semi-autonomous enclave of Irving, but it’s just easier to say “Dallas” when asked where one lives. Everyone has heard of Dallas, thanks to a little show called Dallas. A show so fucking popular around the world that there is even a Dallas theme park of sorts in Romania. It portrayed the greed, the glamour and the glitz of an oil-rich city and the corruption of the power-elite, a perfect commentary on the Eighties.

And now, plans to film a Dallas movie have been announced. And here’s where things start to go wrong. If you were the head of a Hollywood studio, who would you hire to direct a movie that is essentially a over-the-top look at the quintessential “American Experience”? A great American director, such as Martin Scorsese, John Sayles or even Robert Rodriguez (bonus with that one, as he is a real, live Texan). Instead, though, the studio has hired Gurinder Chadha, an Indian-English director whose biggest film so far is the funny Bend It Like Beckham. A great film, certainly, but nothing on the scale of Dallas. What kind of moron thought this would be a good idea? Maybe she can pull it off, but I’m really starting to have my doubts.

Next, if you were going to film a movie about people who call Dallas home that takes place in the city of Dallas and its immediate surroundings, where would you film it? Dallas, of course. For months, we’ve been hearing rumours that the movie would be filmed elsewhere. For instance, while ‘Shank and I were chatting with one of the lovely bartendresses at the Imperial Pub in Toronto, she casually mentioned that she’d heard that the movie would be filmed there. My immediate thought was “heresy”. And not that good kind that gets you excommuniated from the Holy Roman Catholic Church. No, I’m talking about the kind of heresy that insults me and my fellow Texans to our very souls. Toronto, while one of my favourite places in the world, is no Dallas. First of all, the cities are entirely different. Dallas is a spread out homage to the car culture, with great freeways and massive parking lots, with a lot room to grow outward, thanks to no real natural barriers. Toronto is New York, if the Swiss ran New York. Built up instead of out, but clean and modern. Vibrant downtown. Real history and culture, instead of conspicuous consumption. Definitely un-Dallas-like. The differences go on-and-on…Toronto definitely couldn’t stand in for Dallas. Would the CN Tower double for Reunion Tower? The Air Canada Centre for the American Airlines Center? The Eaton Centre for the Galleria? Toronto Mayor David Miller for Dallas Mayor Laura Miller? Standard units for the metric system? Quebecois French for Mexican Spanish? I don’t think so. Then, of course, there is the problem of Lake Ontario…you’re not going to pass that off as White Rock Lake–it’s not called a “Great” Lake for nothing.

Fortunately, the producers decided against Toronto. Unfortunately, they did settle on Baton Rouge, Louisiana, which, while similar to Dallas is an oil town, is much smaller and more white-trashy. But at least it’s part of the United States…and somewhat adjacent to the Dallas area. Somewhat. If you squint and have a very active imagination.

And then there’s the problem of the cast. John Travolta as J.R. Ewing? Jennifer Lopez as Sue Ellen? Goddamn this movie’s going to be a disaster…First off, John Travolta can’t help not sounding vaguely retarded, and J.R. wasn’t retarded…he was a evil, manipulative, cold-hearted asshole. The only thing that Travolta has going for him in this area is that he’s a Scientologist, and evil, manipulative and cold-hearted asshole describes most Scientologists rather nicely. Jennifer Lopez as Sue Ellen…hmmm…she’s Latina…how many Latinas have you ever known with the name “Sue Ellen”? None? Thought so. Besides, everyone knows that J.R. Ewing would never marry a Latina…employ them as maids, maybe, but never actually marry one.

So there you have it…Dallas is looking more-and-more like it’s going to suck the big one. I’m just hoping that J.R. gets shot and dies really early in the film–maybe that’ll make it worth seeing. Maybe. But probably not.

As some of you know, occasional blogger Minotaur went and got some chick knocked up. By “some chick”, I mean his wife and by “knocked up”, I mean pregnant.

And, as some of you also know, Minotaur is my brother, which means, of course, that I’m going to be an uncle. Good ol’ Uncle Rifleman. Or, as I was called by Minotaur and his wife a while back, Rich Uncle Moneybags.

You see, apparently Minotaur and wife (not to be confused with McMillan and Wife have this kee-razy notion that I am somewhat well-off. Sure, I do have a money bin that I’m constantly defending from the Beagle Boys and I’m always having to outwit Magica de Spell in her wily schemes to steel my Number One Dime, but this doesn’t mean that I am a wealthy man.

But I digress. Watching your younger brother get married and have kids can be kind of depressing if you yourself haven’t found that right person and settled down. Fortunately, I’m not ready for either (though I suppose I’m slowly getting there). The best part about Minotaur having a kid is the fact that I get to give my mother shit about being an old woman now. Yay!

Minotaur and wife are supposed to find out today if said child will be a boy or a girl. Personally, I’m kind of hoping it’s a boy, so Minotaur will get some of that old-fashioned karmic payback for being such a hand-full for our parents back in the day. Our mother is hoping for a girl, but thinks it will be a boy. I told Minotaur they should meet our mother halfway and have a flamboyantly gay son. I couldn’t tell if he thought that was funny or not. Probably not. Or maybe he did…he was the one, after all, that coined the phrase “funniness negates wrongness”.

Either way, they’re going to have to name it. To assist, I have compiled the following list of suggestions:

Potential Boy Names

Sue
Geofferson
Tedward
Thor
Jor-El
Toulouse

Potential Girl Names

Penelope (long “o” so that it rhymes–sort of–with “cantaloupe”)
Elizabeth Regina
Scout
Juwanna
Katrina Rita
Ethel

Anyone else have any suggestions?

It’s hot. Or, as Dan Rather would say, “it’s hotter than a junebug that’s wandered onto a barbeque pit”. Or something like that.

The poor air-conditioner in my apartment can barely keep up…getting up from the leather sofa requires a spatula…in fact, I’ve just about taken to spraying Pam onto it before sitting down.

But this is mostly typical for Texas…we’re somewhat used to it and we somehow survive. 104°? No big fucking deal. What gets me are the people in places like New York, who are complaining because it’s a mere 90° out. I’d fucking kill for 90°.

Truth be known, however, I do like it cold. ‘Shank and I spent a week in the great city of Toronto in March and, let me tell you, it was fucking awesome. The warmest it got the whole time we were there was about 35°, though for some reason the Canadians insisted that this was actually only 3° (they claimed that they were using something called the “Metric System”, with distances measured in “kilometres” and weight in “kilograms” and money in “dollars” and presidents in “prime ministers”–it sounds to me like the terrorists have already won in Canada).

I’ve always liked it cold. In college (or what the Canadians, using their “Metric System” would call “University”), during the time I lived on-campus and didn’t have to pay the electric bill, my roommate and I would usually keep the thermostat pegged at about 55° (strange that it went this low). It was like a meat locker in our room. Frost would appear on anything that didn’t move. We could see our breath as we exhaled. Inuit would show up for seal hunts. It was great.

After getting out into the “real world”, I was forced, by monetary concerns, to keep the thermostat at a much more reasonable, and affordable, 72°. Still cool, but not cold. But livable, nonetheless. Unfortunately, there are still about two months out of the year that it’s just too damn hot, and the A/C runs constantly, struggling mightily to keep up, but never quite getting the place cool enough. There’s only so much you can do to counteract it, too. You can try sleeping naked on top of the sheets, but that doesn’t help much. Keep fans running, though they seem to just only blow around the hot air. Drink cold drinks. Have your local industrial coolant company pump liquid nitrogen into your house. And still, you sweat.

The good news is that it’s almost August. Just a couple of more months until it’s bearable again. And I can’t fucking wait.

In the meantime, I was thinking of visiting Toronto again to cool off and maybe hang out at the Imperial Pub, drinking cold pints (or, according to the so-called “Metric System”, cold 473 millilitre containers) of Sleeman’s or Molson Canadian. Alas, a quick check of weather.com shows that it’s currently 91° there (or 33° in the “Metric System”). So maybe I should consider heading a bit further north to Iqaluit, Nunavut to visit my old Inuit friends, where it’s a nice-sounding 44° (7° in the fucking “Metric System”).

A man was walking one day, when he came to this big house
in a nice neighborhood. Suddenly he realized there was a
couple making love out on the lawn. Then he noticed another

couple over behind a tree. Then another couple behind some
bushes by the house. He walked up to the door of the house,
and knocked. A well dressed woman answered the door, and
the man asked what kind of a place this was. “This is a
brothel” replied the madam.

“Well, what’s all this out on the lawn?” queried the man.

“Oh, we’re having a yard sale today.”