Happy New Year and don't get trampled at the P&L firing of the Money Cannon.

I've been at this blogging thing for 2 years and change. I've quit once, came close a dozen times more. In the words of John Travolta in that corn fed redneck classic, Urban Cowboy, "Sissy I cayn't quit you". Same goes for this blogging endeavor, which is pointless without you readers. While I may take the occasional break, or posts may come a bit less often, I find that I can't stay away for long. I'm planning on kicking shit up a notch or two come the new year, I've still got a few tricks up my sleeve, and I intend to focus on blowing this joint up in 2010. I'm still uncertain where my other writing activities are headed. I did two short pieces for KC Free Press, and I've got at least a couple more planned. While I appreciate the opportunity the folks at KCFP have given me thus far, I'm still trying to figure out if I'm a fit for that type of format. Either way it turns out, I want to thank Lucas Wetzel and Jay Senter, the editors at KCFP for giving me a shot at a more mainstream venue. They are just getting the ground work laid for what I believe will be a successful publication, and affording me the chance to write for someone beyond the confines of this blog was a big deal for me. Either way I decide to go, I wish them a prosperous 2010.


Now that the formal shit is out of the way, I guess I ought to thank you rubes for hanging in there, taking time out to read, and to occasionally call me on some post you feel was wrong headed. Even though I doubt you were right, I'll give you props for opening your yaps. All kidding aside, thanks to everyone for taking time out to read this bloggy hot mess that is Midtown Miscreant. While I may at times downplay the importance of readers and their comments, truth is, I write for the readers. I'm not going to spout that time worn bloggers claim that "I write for myself". It sounds good, but it's bullshit, and anyone who uses that tired rhetoric is either an underachiever, or delusional. I write in the hopes that people will read it, otherwise I may as well get a diary with a lock on it.


So expect more of the same around here in the new year, and then some. Have a safe and fun New Years Eve, don't drink and drive, don't let some smarmy hipster slip a roofie in your cocktail, and more importantly, bring your asses back here Monday.

Christmas......That's a wrap or rap, depending.......

This is the last post you people are going to see out of me until the New Year---probably. I say probably for two reasons:

1. I'm not completely convinced that I can keep my opinions to myself for that long. So keep checking in between embarrassing office parties, family sit downs, and painful hangovers. You just never know, I might get inspired or bored.

2. I hate to see my hits drop below triple digits. This time of year the numbers go down like Monica Lewinsky at a cigar convention. The least you ingrates can do is take 2 seconds out of your daily lives to bolster my low self esteem.

Either way, you'll most likely need to seek wisdom and spiritual advice from your Pastor, Rabbi, or Shaman, or whatever, in my absence.

The Balloon Boy's parents, Richard and Mayumi Heene, got an early present from Santa. Jail time, probation, and a bill for close to 50 K. Dick got all weepy and shit, apologized profusely. The judge gave him 90 days, gave the lil lady only 20. He also gave Richard until Jan. 11th to spend time with his, soon to be as crazy as he is, kids for the holidays. Let's face it, those kids don't stand a chance in hell for any semblance of normalcy. I look forward to seeing them do some equally outrageous shit in the not too distant future. Something I had not heard before; Heene faked like he went into some kind of narcoleptic sleep fit when he was taking a lie detector test. I think his wife is a cousin of Yoko Ono. They resemble each other, so they must be related, right? What matters is that they are both as crazy as Arizona Road Lizards. God bless em.


Looks like it's gonna be a white Christmas, which neither excites me or puts me in a holiday spirit. I'll have to shovel snow, drive my girl back and forth to work, and the dogs will revolt and refuse to go outside. Anyway, I guess I'm sort of happy for you people with children, or those of you who think you still are. Go play in the snow, just stay out of my fuckin yard while you do it.

I really don't have anything earth shattering to reveal. Just want to wish everyone a merry/happy, Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, or Festivus. Thanks for taking time out of your day to read this shit when you should be working, I'm certain your bosses would approve. See you all back here after the holidays.

Stoopid Tuesday.....Xmas edition

I admit it, even I am not immune to the feel good Holiday story.
Stop the presses.
That first line was pure bullshit. Anyone with half a brain who reads this blog knows good and well I'm not buying in to all of those holiday happy ass stories. I hate to burst any bubbles, but the world isn't holding a moratorium on crazy while the holidays are underway. Yeah, I know that comes as a big shock, what with Fox 4 Paying it forward, Secret Santa's running around, and the guy who hands out used cars to poor folk. Heartwarming stories are nice, but someone has got to keep you saps grounded. So in response to all of the Happy Holiday horse shit, allow me to retort.


An off duty cop is doing security at a Cincinnati middle school basketball game. A fight breaks out between two students after the game is over . The cop does his job, breaks up the fight. As he is taking the two kids back inside the school, over 30 kids, grades 6 through 8 or 9, not sure which, jump on the cop. They not only beat his ass, they try to take his gun. One of the parents even gets in on the act and gets arrested. Apparently they have a pretty bad gang problem in Cincy, and these 30 little shit heels are shining examples of that problem. To the credit of the school district in Cincy, basketball season has been cancelled. KCMO school district are you paying attention here? A school official has taken a stand, it may be futile, but at least they are trying to hold these hell raisers responsible, rather than spewing the litany of excuses that are usually the gold standard for explaining away inexcusable behavior in schools. It's called accountability and repercussions for bad behavior, make a note.


Am I being a curmudgeon? Probably. So here's a story from the North Kansas City school district, sure to warm the cockles of your heart.

The North Kansas City school board voted Monday night to keep a children’s book in school libraries despite the concerns of a parent.Board members decided to retain the book “And Tango Makes Three” by Peter Parnell and Justin Richardson in a 3-2 decision after more than an hour of discussion.

The book is about 2 male penguins who raise a baby penguin. I haven't read the book, and I probably won't, not that I have a beef with gay penguins, I don't. According to the Star, a parent got his shorts in a bunch over the book and wanted it banned from the library. Dixon, who addressed the board last week, said he opposed the book because he didn’t believe it was age-appropriate for young children and didn’t follow the district’s policy on human sexuality education. He also said he thought the book tried to indoctrinate children about homosexuality.
Scarily, two board members agreed with this mouth breathing homophobe. As a public service, I'd like to just dispense with all of the niceties and cut to the chase on this one. Parents, if your child reads a children's book about two gay penguins, he wont run out and start dressing up like Perez Hilton, or she won't go all mannish on you, start wearing dockers and get one of those spiky hair cuts. The book I assume is trying to teach young children about diversity and acceptance of those who might march to a different drum. I'm no doctor Spock here, but I would think that teaching a child early in life that not everyone is exactly the same, would be a good thing. Of course the other option would be to insulate your child, let them learn from the knuckle draggers when they hit Jr. High. If the penguins start shoving their wings up one anothers ass, doing X, and trolling Penn Valley Park let me know, otherwise, shut the fuck up. Little Joey ain't gonna run out and start blowing his classmates because of a kids book about ghey arctic flightless birds. Penguins are flightless, aren't they?


Okay, now that I've derailed the Merry Christmas train, I'll leave you with this video. It's Christmas goodness. It's all about the spirit of giving.

Fast Eddie Friday.....End of 2009 wrap up....

Not really, there are too many people regurgitating the Best Of and Worst Of shtick, like we all don't know that this past year was as fucked up as a soup sandwich. So we will just carry on here like it's another day. Here we go fat man, fast and loose.

“This is similar to the O.J. [Simpson] trial in that it is race, it is a star athlete and there’s a young blonde woman,” D.L. Hughley

People are jumping all up in D.L. Hughleys Koolaid for comparing the reaction of folks over the Tiger Woods hot mess to O.J. Simpson. Nothing invalidates accusations of racism like showing your own racial bias. That's exactly what D.L. has managed to do. There is no comparison to Tiger and OJ, other than the color of their skin and their taste for blond headed pink toes. OJ cut the throats of 2 people, Tiger only cut his own. Are there white racist types who are tickled shitless over Tigers fall from grace? Of course. The big problem with Hughely, other than the fact that the guy just ain't funny, is that he is showing his own prejudice by making the Woods thing, a Race Thing.


Let me give you an example of why the Tiger Woods mess isn't about race. Derrick Thomas. Black, sports figure, 7 kids by 5 women, and people love the guy. White, black, doesn't matter, folks love them some DT. Thomas probably bagged half the sports groupies in the city, spread his seed far and wide, killed his passenger on the fateful day he crashed. White sports fans think DT is the best thing since sliced Wonder bread. Tiger's fall from grace and the nonstop coverage has nothing to do with his skin color, and has everything to do with the media. People love to watch folks fall from high places. Though most won't admit it, they kind of want to see that guy on the High Wire lose his balance and take a spill.


Tiger always carried himself above the fray, he was composed, stand offish, never involved in any kind of drama. When he slipped, by way of slipping it to a bunch of Waffle House and Hooters waitresses, the media jumped on it like a fat guy on a bowl of bacon grease ice cream. Tiger, much like D.T. was bigger than race, he had more white fans than white detractors. Just because there is a segment of society who are racist, doesn't mean the majority of white people are of a similar mind. You don't shoot the whole litter because one or two pups have fleas. Hughley did just that, and he is a race baiting douche bag for doing it. O J was a killer, the only thing Tiger ever killed was the hopes of anyone who played against him, big fucking difference.

"I can't be angry," he said. "People had a job to do back then. It's just sad the way the outcome was." James Bain.
James Bain is a happy guy today, after 35 calendars he is free for a crime that he didn't commit. DNA evidence cleared him of the kidnapping and rape of a 9 year old boy in 1974. He stands to receive 50 k a year for every year he was locked up, that comes to 1.75 million. Bain spent his 20', his 30's, and his 40's, in prison for a crime he didn't commit. Think about that, he spent the best years of his life in prison. The fact that he could make the statement he made speaks volumes about the caliber of this guy. Make no mistake, once the newness fades from being a free man, the anger is going to kick in. Thirty five years in a Florida prison, dealing with the baggage that comes with being a convicted child molester, knowing every night as you lay awake in bed, you are innocent. That's a hell of a thing to deal with. Now he steps in to a world he witnessed unfold through television. There was no Internet, no cellphones, AIDS was unheard of, the Vietnam war was still underway when he was locked up. Bain is a stranger in a strange land. He deserves all the luck and best wishes in the world. He should be every news magazines Man of the year. Anyone who can smile and claim to be free from anger after losing 35 years, is a better person than most of us will ever be.

The world is about to end, Armageddon is fast approaching. I'm not hardly bullshitting here.
So what are the signs you ask? Wars. Plagues. Locusts. Nope. I'm sitting here watching it unfold as I write this post. Martha Stewart is making brownies. With Snoop Dogg. D O double G, Snoop Dogg. Martha has on a red Christmas sweater, Snoop is clearly high, Martha just put 12 ounces of chocolate in the recipe, Snoop made a weed joke. Snoop just put his whisk in the bowl and said he was gonna "get up in there and twist it around" Yes , Snoop just made a sexual advance on Martha. I suggest all of you people make peace with God, or somebody, because the world is coming to an end.

Have a safe weekend. And if you haven't already, head over to KC Free Press to read my latest opus.

I've got a new Urban Blight piece over at KC Free Press

Be sure to take a look at the pics. I think there is going to be a slide show inserted into the article although there isn't as of this posting. I may run some of the additional shots they don't use, later today over here. And my profile shot looks like I'm either in a police line up, or standing in front of a firing squad. The writing on the other hand, Top Shelf if I do say so myself. You know I hate to toot my own horn, but Toot Toot.
Go give it a read here.

Punching your own ticket........

The local news outlets ran a short spot yesterday about a suicidal man running out in front of a Semi in Olathe. Needless to say this guy was serious as a heart attack about ending his life. A tractor trailer moving at 65 mph will most definitely put an end to your day should you be looking to end it. I can only imagine at the impact it had on the truck driver, and as harsh as it may sound, I think the greater tragedy is the driver being used as an unwitting means to a troubled persons end. As far as the dead guy goes, his suffering is over, the trucker on the other hand will carry that moment with him for the rest of his days. The story brought to mind some of the people I have known who took their own lives or honestly attempted to do so. Lets face it, some people can fuck up anything, even something as simple as killing themselves. Even I have considered what I would do if I was suffering some incurable condition, wondered if I'd be able to cash in my own chips, by my own hand, in order to put myself out of my misery. Sadly for some, the answer is , No, probably not. In fact, I believe I'd probably drag shit out to the bitter end, go out kicking, and screaming, demand to be hooked up to whatever machines they have. Hell if they could only keep me alive by putting my disembodied head in a jar, I'd probably opt for that as opposed to the alternative dirt nap. Frankly, I'm not as arrogant as most devout Atheists or religious folks, I really have no idea what if anything is on the other side, and I'm in no big rush to find out. My plan is to live forever, which isn't a real solid plan considering I smoke like a fuckin chimney, and kind of have a short fuse. Not a good start towards immortality, but what I lack in healthy habits, I make up for in stupidity, so I've got that working for me.


I did time with a guy named Donny, he was a stand up guy, well liked, had a pretty wife and 3 cute kids who dutifully visited him every single week. He was one of many convicts who did their time with one foot behind the fence, the other foot in the free world. You might think that weekly visits and daily phone calls to the wife and kids while you are doing time would be a good thing. You would be wrong, especially if the guy in question has a lengthy bit. Wives stick around for a year, two, maybe three, rarely longer, girlfriends, well they usually kick rocks before you get 6 months under your belt. Of course every married or attached convict believes that rule doesn't apply to him, his woman will stick like super glue. Every Saturday and Sunday morning, communal prison bathrooms are monopolized by inmates getting ready for that family visit. They line up 3 deep at every sink, if you want to wash your hands, you'll need to do it in a utility closet. Donny was one of those guys in line at the sink. Then comes that fateful day when mom and the kids are a no show. Even a hard case like me would find it sad when these guys end up walking around all hang dog , running to the phone every ten minutes, only to hang up after the call isn't accepted. Invariably some wise ass will take the guy aside, or worse just blurt it out in front of everyone. They'll usually say something like; " What, you think she quit liking dick when you got popped?". Prisons full of classy guys like that. Misery loves company, and prisons are chock full of miserable types.


So when Donny found himself standing near the entrance to the cell house, waiting for his name to come over the intercom, he was deeply disappointed when it didn't happen. Donny had a fresh dime to serve, 10 years is a long, long , long stretch for anyone who has to serve it, and it's an eternity for the people they leave out in the world. Donny was a square world guy, I never knew or asked the details, but his case involved some kind of accounting fraud, he was a bean counter, crunched numbers, got greedy, or tried to get slick, ended up in a place he knew nothing about.
He stopped playing handball, quit going to the chow hall, started doing the lone perp walk around the track in the yard. The lone walk around the yard is a good way to spot the deeply depressed in prison. Which is not to say everyone who walks that track is depressed, hell I walked by myself all the time, and while I was far from giddy over my prospects, I was a long way from throwing myself off the third tier. I was just antisocial, go figure. The difference between a guy who was walking alone for the solitude, and the guy who was doing it because he was depressed is fairly easy to spot. The depressed Donny types walk about as fast as a 3 legged turtle, they shuffle more than walk. Heads down, hands in pockets, and every couple of laps they might stop by the bank of phones, only to resume their slow shuffle after a minute on the phone, another unanswered call under their belt.


Donny got his hands on a bunch of Placidyls. You can get just about anything in the joint, although women, guns, and ladders are hard to come by, drugs on the other hand are readily available if you have the means. I know it was Placidyls because the Screws found a few still in his pocket, and they took a guy to investigative ad seg, said guy being known to pedal the pills known as Green Meanies. One Placidyl will make you higher than Cooter Brown, two will put you to sleep for a day, more than that will probably kill you. All indications were that Donny took more than enough to kill a small elephant, or a large fat guy. I was playing Pinochle in the day room of the unit, it's just another day, nothing special. Pinochle is the card game to gamble at in the joint. You cant play Texas Hold Em in the joint, gambling is a big no no. It's not like you can be tossing chips out on the table. So pinochle is a good alternative, you have to keep track of a boat load of cards, it's a game that weeds out the mouth breathers and dead beats. You get a fairly smart partner, and hopefully play two guys who are less adept at keeping track of the cards. I remember the guys we were playing were card slappers and shit talkers. Two black guys. Now before you go all PC and call me out as a racist douche bag, let me explain something about prison stereotypes, they are mostly true. Black guys tend to slap the cards down on the table every time they play. Dominoes, forget about it. Nothing is more distracting than some clown smacking a domino down on a steel topped table, and shouting out Christine Fifteen, or some other nonsensical rhyme. It's just something that black guys do in prison to distract you so they can lighten your pockets in a game. Pinochle is played with 4 decks, cards ain't cheap. Nothing will get under your skin like a guy bending your cards and talking shit while he does it. It's a tactic to get inside your head, and I can attest to that shit working pretty swell. I remember we were losing, I'm telling one of the guys to quit dog earing my cards, and getting kind of pissed about it, when my partner starts staring off over my head.


In the free world if someone is looking off in to the distance over your shoulder, while they should be paying attention, you chalk it up to the person being distracted, or rude. In prison when someone starts looking at something going on behind you, you best turn around to make sure you aren't about to get clubbed with a mop wringer. Getting your melon peeled down to the pink meat will really put a crimp in your day. So I look behind me, all's good, then I look up. Donny is stumbling along the second tier in his state issue boxers, he is kind of blue, shit running down his leg. It's not a pretty sight, and I won't make light of it. In fact, seeing an otherwise good guy in that kind of distress makes you sick to your stomach. He takes a few more steps, and face plants on the concrete. The hacks see the guy go down, he has brown liquid pouring from the side of his mouth. They call a nurse over, she arrives 5 or 10 minutes later, too late. The guy is dead, his wife is off the hook, the world keeps spinning on its axis.

Hey MM, thanks for ruining my breakfast and making my day all morose and shit. What's your point?

I'm not real sure I have a point, imaginary critical dude. Except maybe this; When a person runs in front of a semi, eats a bunch of pills, or chooses to check out in any of the multitude of ways there are to kill one self, my initial reaction is, "Damn, that's sad. I wonder why they did it." Then I have a second reaction, I feel a little more alive, I appreciate being here. My life looks none too bad. Life is too short as it is, no need in hurrying things along. Clearly that's not a sentiment everyone shares. As for me, I think I'll get one of those electronic cigarettes, maybe try to quit smoking. If I ever hit the lottery, maybe I'll take a trip to a Swiss clinic, try those baby goat gland injections . I hear they'll make you live to be a hundred. That's a good start.

Dogs don't ride piggy back..

Most of you have heard the old joke about the kid walking through a park with his Gramps. They encounter two dogs humping, like dogs are known to do. The kid takes notice and points it out to his Gramps. The old guy explains that the dog on top has an injured leg, and the one on bottom is helping his friend to the vet. The kid replies " That's a damn shame, try to help a guy out and you get fucked every time". While that may be an inappropriate joke, especially for you malingerers who are reading this at work, the sentiment of the joke is alive and kicking. Case in point number one; A Newspaper vendor in Boston unwisely gives a panhandler a hot cup O joe instead of money, which is what said panhandler wanted. The bum then throws the hot coffee in the guys face. While the vic is screaming in pain from being scalded, the bum turned robber, rifles through his pockets. The newspaper dude goes to the hospital, while derelict coffee tosser goes to jail.


I bring this up because it reminds me of an encounter I had last week with a local beggar lady who can be found posted up at the intersection of 31st and Van Brunt. I see her there all the time, standing on the little island that separates the east and west bound lanes. Now I'm not against giving a little money to homeless people, I'm not a completely insensitive prick. That said, I don't like being played for a sucker. Last week I'm driving the girlfriend to a doctors appointment, we pull up to the intersection previously mentioned, and there she stands. She uses props sometimes, on this particular day she has a cane. I've also seen her carrying a crutch, and one time she had a walker. "Way to go MM you douche nozzle, now you are saying a cripple uses a crutch as a prop".

Easy does it imaginary voice of righteous indignation, lemme splain.

I once witnessed this hustler in beggars clothing, leave her spot and her walker, cross the street to join an equally shabby looking fellow to imbibe a sack encased adult beverage. She walked better than I do. In fact she half walked, half trotted back to her station after she took a snort. Other days I've spotted her at her corner, completely unencumbered by any kind of cripple stick. Granted she isn't exactly committing a major swindle, still it goes against my grain to get played. Back to the other day. We had the bad luck to get stopped at the light, beggar lady taps on my window, thrusts the cane out in front of her for dramatic effect, and tearfully, sans the tears, pleads for lunch money and bus fare. Had I been alone, she would have got bupkis, but my girlfriend is giving me the fish eye, while simultaneously getting all misty eyed over the cane lady.
I didn't manage to survive the last 50 years without realizing when to call and when to fold. So with a sigh of resignation I reach into my pocket, I've got a 10 spot, and a single buck. Cane lady is checking my meager bankroll, I hand her the dollar, you would think from her reaction I handed her a dog turd. She then explains to me that the bus costs more than that, and she wants to get some grub from the Mickey D's before she goes on her imaginary bus ride. My girlfriend reaches into the console, hands crazy Mary a fist full of quarters, I get the fish eye from both sides. The light changes, I tell Bagzilla to back her ass up, and speed off.


Yeah, yeah, I know, I sound all petty, miserly, and curmudgeonly. After all it's only a buck and another 3 or 4 in change, but that isn't the point. I like my bums to be honest, or at least not try to play me for Joey Lunch Meat. Times are hard, the bums don't exactly retire on the money they guilt people out of, and they most likely don't spend it on bus rides, dining out, or cat food for the pot luck hobo dinner later that night. I get the point, they have lived hard lives, they are less fortunate, homelessness is an American tragedy. Just don't try to hustle me with sob stories, fake canes, or half melted bags of M&M's, like the guys who are always pandering on the corner for some shelter/religious group. Yeah, I'm a pessimist, but you can bet your ass I'm not going to hand some guy a hot cup of coffee then act shocked when my face starts peeling off. Had I been alone, cane lady would probably have not seen a penny , let alone one of my eleven dollars. Had I broken down and given her the buck and she started to complain, I'd probably have snatched it out of her mitt, told her to go pander on the Plaza instead of 31st and Van Brunt.


Cheeseburger Jerry of Westport and Plaza infamy was one of those classic mad bums. He would ask you for money and if you gave none or not enough, he would follow you down the sidewalk, yelling and raising hell because you were a tight ass. Not for nothin, but Jerry had his clock punched a few times, although I found his shtick to be humorous. Out of towners on the other hand probably were scared shitless by the crazy sawed off bum berating them as they fled into the nearby Saks or Sharper Image. Anyone shopping at those now defunct Plaza stores probably needs to be harassed by mad bums, but that's not the point. The point is, how about some manners when you try to lighten a strangers pockets. My personal favorite bum was the guy at the top of this post. I snapped his pic last year on the corner of 39th and S W Trafficway. I also slipped him a 10 just based on his humor and level of honesty. The guy was a marketing genius. I'll guarantee you he brought in more with that sign, than all the canes, walkers, melted M&M's, and bad attitudes combined.

Fast Eddie Friday....repeat.

I've got a slew of stuff going on today, so I'm not going to get to Fast Eddie Friday. I apologize in advance, but hey, shit happens. In its place I offer up a post from last Christmas. This car is still around, I see it from time to time, and it seems to have more crap packed in it each time I see it. I'll be back on Monday. Have a safe weekend.

I know I posted shots of this classic automobile a few months back, but they weren't anywhere near as good or detailed as these. This time I got interior shots. As always click them to make em bigger. Feel free to point out any hidden treasures you come across while looking at the inside of this 4 wheeled testament to hoarding. I realize these aren't traditional Christmasy type pictures. I know this is the time of year when I should be putting up more lame examples of The Plaza Lights, or snowy landscapes. Fuck that, in case you hadn't noticed there is way to much of that Peace ye merry gentlemen bullshit proliferating WWW Dot Land. So consider this the lick of salt and bite of lemon in your Holiday Tequila shot.

Shit gets worse, he actually drives this car around town.

This is a stick up. I'll take a mixed bucket and 3 pudding parfaits please.

Criminals today, I just can't figure them out. They are either becoming dumber by the minute, or else they are fearless, I'm going to opt for the former. Case in point, the 3 nimrods who took down a Kentucky Fried Chicken on 85th just west of Wornall. The case is a couple of days cold, still, it deserves taking a look at. Here's the skinny on it; 3 masked douche bags storm the KFC, one armed with a shotgun, another was also armed, clown number 3 was carrying a backpack, and had a hella appetite. So they rob the registers, master criminal number 3 empties the drive thru register, picks up a box cutter, and then orders a bucket of chicken. His 2 partners see a cop car drive down the street, get spooked, make like trees, and leave. The 2 knuckleheads run across the parking lot of a price chopper, encounter an off duty , moonlighting cop, the cop wonders why one of them has a shotgun, shots are fired , mayhem ensues. Meanwhile, back at the KFC, the 3rd genius is waiting on the chicken he ordered. That's right, he is waiting for some chicken. He realizes his pals have left him, then he asks the folks he is robbing where the other 2 went. He then flees the scene, taking the money, and a big ass red and white striped bucket O chicken.


I forgot to mention, the three would be crooks were wearing KC ball caps in contrasting colors, one black, one blue, and one red. Because whenever robbing a chicken joint, ya gotta look tight.
First of all, the fact that the robber had to wait on some greasy yard bird just confirms that KFC's service really sucks, it's one of the reasons I rarely eat there. I hate waiting for sub par fast food, besides KFC fouled me out and pretty much ruined my future dining experience with those nasty ass KFC bowls that look like someone just scraped garbage into a bowl. Seriously, who mixes shit like that together, gravy and cheese for chrissake, it's like replacing tomato sauce on a pizza with vanilla pudding or something.

Back to these 3 nimrods. You have to wonder what the pre robbery plan went like. I imagine it went like this:

Robber 1 " I'll empty the registers up front, while one of you does crowd control, then one of you can hit the drive thru register".

Robber 2 " I'll do crowd control"

Robber 3 " I'll catch that drive thru register, anybody seen my gun"?

Robber 1 " Snap, I almost forgot, somebody grab a bucket of chicken, and some of those pudding parfaits. This blunt is makin me hella hungry,Yo."

Robber 3 " Original or extra crispy, G"?

Robber 1 " Shit, mix it up homes".

Robber 2 " Can I wear the blue cap? It matches my hoody".

Robber 1 to Robber 3 " Don't forget to grab some of those wet naps".

Robber 3 " Anybody seen my gun"?


If these idiots had better taste in food, they would have been caught at the scene. Imagine if they had robbed a Sizzler. Don't judge, Sizzler has one of those soft serve ice cream machines. Anyway, the cops could have caught them easily if they were in line behind the family of tater hogs that always seem to show up at Sizzler just ahead of you at the buffet. I mean how do those people get so much starch on one little oval plate? I was at a salad bar behind that family, they filled their plates with bacon bits, olives and potato salad, must of had a half pound each of bacon bits alone.
Where was I?
Oh, right, the robbers.
Luckily none of the KFC employees were hurt, nor was the cop. Unfortunately, the cop wasn't much of a marksman, he fired 14 rounds and apparently managed to hit bupkiss, nada, nothin. How anyone short of Stevie Wonder could miss hitting 2 stooges in puffy coats, not once but 14 times is beyond me. Sometimes living in Kansas City is like a bad Disney movie, like Shakiest Gun in the West, or the Apple Dumpling Gang. I miss the old days, when bad guys were just after the money, and cops could at least hit em in the ass after 14 tries.

My first slice of literary greatness is now up.

You can read it here!!!! While you are there, take a look around. Then come back and tell me what you think.

Zhu Zhu is America's Godzilla.......

Zhu Zhu the fake hamster is apparently THE hot toy this xmas. I'm not sure what makes this fake hamster better than a real one, at least where kids are concerned, but kids are kind of odd nowadays anyway, so go figure. ***Disclaimer*** I don't mean your kids, I'm sure they are perfectly normal. Anyway, some consumer watchdog group came out with the annual panicky warning about how Zhu Zhu the fake hamster was dangerous, because it contained TIN!!!!!! Insert your own blood curdling scream here. Tin, since when did a little tin become a dangerous thing? Half of the toys I played with were made from tin, and most likely dipped in 24 carat lead paint, and I managed to survive. I'd like to suggest that there are far more dangerous things than a tin part or two stuffed up some fake hamsters ass. For example, just the fact that there is such a thing as a fake hamster, that it is named Zhu Zhu, and that kids are actually clamoring to get one of the fucking things. The consumer group has now issued a retraction, so Zhu Zhu is safe, technically, although it will probably turn your male children into ballerinas if you allow them to play with anything named Zhu Zhu. Not that there is anything wrong with that.

One summer I spent with my grandparents in Oklahoma, I had a Gopher for a pet. That's right, a Gopher. My Grandfather caught it in one of those live traps, and unbeknownst to him, I liberated the furry little fucker, and transferred it to an old birdcage. Let me just go on record and say that I was only 8 or so, and wrongly assumed that a gopher was just a wild cousin of the hamster. It's not, in fact it's not even close to a hamster, it ain't even in the same neighborhood as a hamster. For starters, gophers are mean as hell, and they have the teeth to back that shit up. My experience with gophers was limited to watching the 1960's era cartoon Go Go Gophers. The Go Go Gophers were Gophers, natch, but they were also Native American. They lived in Teepee's, wore Indian headdresses, and shot bow and arrows. No doubt that shit would not fly in todays politically correct, hyper sensitive atmosphere, but back in the day people were too busy worrying about the Russians turning us all in to a giant xray, and we just didn't have time to get offended over kids cartoons. Anyway, the gopher was a shitty pet, and after several attempts to tie a string around its neck like a leash so I could take it for a walk, I gave up and set the ungrateful prick free. I also once caught a baby bat and kept it in the same birdcage until my Gramps saw it and freaked out. But that's another story.


People wrongly believe that I don't like kids, even my girlfriend has made that very same accusation. Let me just say, I am hurt, wounded to the very core of my being, that someone so close to me would make such a hurtful accusation. I like kids, okay I tolerate kids, alright, kids kind of get on my nerves, but that doesn't mean I don't like em. I just don't understand them. If you take a pygmies picture with a Polaroid, they will freak the fuck out, think you just captured their soul, and will probably chop your head off and boil your ass in a big black kettle. It doesn't mean they don't like you, they just don't understand the concept of cameras. That sums up my feelings on kids, I just don't get kids today. I don't understand how any self respecting, booger picking boy, can play with a fake hamster named Zhu Zhu.

Last night I had an epiphany, it all became clear. I'm pretty sure that Zhu Zhu is made in China. Zhu Zhu is the Chinese equivalent of the Russians trying to turn us all in to x rays. How so MM? Well I'll tell you, How So. The Chinese are pretty close to owning us as it is. There are so many of them over there that I'm certain they are running out of room. First they try to kill us off by selling us food products that were chock full O cardboard. When that didn't work, they tried to turn our children in to morons by serving up toys swathed in lead based paint. We caught on to that shit after a few years, which is a good thing, because I think that shit was working. Now they are taking a new tact. Turn our male children in to pussies.

Think about it, you start out playing with cutesy little fur balls with funny sounding names, next thing you know we have an entire generation that is softer than medicated cotton. The Chinese can then do a couple of fly overs, air drop some rubber snakes and mice. The new generation will run away screaming, and the hordes of Chinese will swarm our coasts, taking over the country without so much as a shot being fired. So do your part, buy your kid a Tonka truck, or a toy gun, or at least a violence filled video game, but for the love of God and Country, do not buy your kid a Zhu Zhu. If you fail to heed my warning, don't blame me when you spend your golden years eating cardboard and watching your grown son prance around in tights while dancing the Nutcracker and quoting Mao.

James (Jimmy Ray) Smith....Requiem for a Heavywieght.

I've written about my Uncle no fewer than three times , and his presence can be found in nearly every post I write, if you know what to look for. This past Saturday, the world became a little less interesting, Jimmy Ray slipped from this mortal coil. Though the vast majority of you never met him, you probably feel like you knew him from what you have read here. I thought you all would like to know, and I feel like I owe him a few final words.

If I only learned one thing from my Uncle it was this; Don't mince words, say what you believe, and stand on it. When I was in my early twenties, from time to time I'd go have a few drinks with Jim after he closed his place down for the night. One night stands out, he had just bailed me out of jail a week or two prior to that night. I had a few in me and was starting to feel guilty for screwing up once again. The conversation came around to where my life was headed, we both knew the answer, he probably knew better than I did at that point. I think I started to give my word about how I was going to go straight, clean up my act. He stopped me about half way through and told me not to make promises I wasn't going to keep. He told me that the only thing you have in this life is your word, it's the one thing that can't be controlled by anyone, and nobody can separate you from it. He said " A man says a thing, and he stands on it like a rock, no matter what. When you die, you want people to look at that hole in the ground, and say there's a man in there".

That's what they will say about Jimmy Ray. There's a man in there.

Fast Eddie Friday.......Here we go, fast and loose...

BIG DRUG BUST IN BELTON!!!!! Well, kind of, sort of, not really. KCTV 5 has been blowing so much smoke up the collective ass of their viewers, we all may need to get get an anal bleaching just to remove the smoke stains. The big drug bust was conducted on a discount smoke shop, that's smoke as in cigarettes, not smoke as in Hippy Lettuce. So what was this GREAT BIG HUGE ASS RAID all about? Hookahs, maybe some blown glass pipes, the same shit you find in most discount smoke shops. One would think that the Belton cops would be a little more concerned about the 4 or 5 trailer parks that house meth labs, or any number of crime problems that the rapidly growing suburb faces. But back to KCTV 5, home of the scary voice over guy, the big investigative reports, that ominous voice, promising to open your eyes to some dastardly shenanigans going on, right under your nose. The station that brought us allegations of patients being raped in hospitals, allegations that sound horrific as all get out, but have produced zero charges, . They reported on A DANGEROUS RING OF SHOPLIFTERS!!!!!!!! Start out with scary voice guy, throw in some security footage of people stealing shit from a store, viola, you have yourself a major theft ring. The problem is, these people are just boosters, shoplifters, a time worn tradition carried out by millions of petty thieves and klepto housewives, ever since the first caveman opened up a Rocks R Us. Nothing really to see here folks, move along. It seems that the crack investigative news team is about to go the way of the Dodo bird, according to BLC's, John ( the voice of conscience and scolder of unethical bloggers and newsies) Landsberg.


Speaking of unethical bloggers, yours truly will be debuting his freelance, yuk yuk, writin skillz this coming Wednesday , the ninth, when KC Free Press goes on line. Here is the press release. Now if you are expecting me to drop a bunch of gratuitous eff bombs, you'll probably be a little disappointed. I'll be doing some stuff on Kansas City spots you may or may not be aware of, my first piece, well, I guess you'll just have to wait like everyone else. I'm also going to cover some crime related news and stories, that is if I make it past the editorial staff. Look for me to break some stories in the future that the mainstream media has overlooked, but not right out of the gate. I'm taking a few baby steps before I try to navigate the steep staircase of hard hitting journalism, or something. So make sure and watch as I either grow into Kansas City's own Hunter S Thompson, or spiral into a tailspin, crashing and burning, my hopes of being a paid writer dashed by my one trick pony skills. Either way, it should be a hoot, and at least half of you people will see your wishes fulfilled. That said, nothing, and I repeat, nothing will change here. I'll make you laugh, cry, think, shake your bulbous heads in amazement at my audacity and lack of class. Hey, it's what I do, and why you come here. Still, I'm looking forward to trying my hand at something new, just to see if I've got it in me. I appreciate the chance to stretch my chops, so thanks to the folks at KC Free Press for that.
Have a safe weekend.

You can't make a Saint from a Shit Heel.

I usually stay away from sports topics, it's just not my thing. But every now and again sports fans puzzle me, toss in the media and you get a bowl of stupid soup that I just can't resist. For example, the willingness to swoon over an athlete while ignoring all of the negative aspects of his life. Let me give you an example; Derrick Thomas vs Tiger Woods.

In this city, Kansas City, folks love DT. I'm okay with that, and really could not care less, that is until they start canonizing the guy, talking about what a superlative human being he was. Here is a press release from the KC Chiefs regarding the retiring of Thomas #58. The money quote and the sentiment that Thomas fans chant like a mantra " A stalwart in the Kansas City community, Thomas was named the ‘93 NFL Man of the Year for his philanthropic efforts. Thomas’ “Third and Long Foundation” is still active in the Kansas City community, continuing the reading and scholarship programs he began."

Thomas did some good deeds, he may have had a good heart. He also drove like an idiot, killing a passenger in his vehicle. He also fathered 7 kids with 5 different women. We aren't talking one or two or even three indiscretions, we are talking about a guy who ran around spreading his seed like that apple tree guy Johnny. He wasn't a stalwart of the community, he wasn't Mother Theresa. He was a majorly flawed human being, a hell of a football player, who did a few good things in between a string of irresponsible behavior. Hey, Pablo Escobar did plenty of good shit, in between flooding the U.S. with coke and killing presidential candidates and judges. I'm not saying DT is a Columbian drug lord, I'm saying his good deeds don't nullify the fact that he is responsible for another mans death, and 7 kids from 5 different women. While he should be applauded for his play, and credited for his good Samaritan behavior, the second coming of Christ he ain't. To build the guy up to near sainthood insults the intelligence and sets a poor example in general. It sends the message that you can behave irresponsibly, ruin lives, as long as you toss some good shit in every now and again.

"Hey Pot, meet Kettle. MM what gives you the right to besmirch the name of our fallen hero? You were a thief and a crook, plus we hear you are uglier than a mud fence."

That's right Skippy, I was all of that, and a bag of stale chips. Should I win the lottery tomorrow, and use the proceeds to save starving pygmies in Borneo, the good deed won't negate the twenty or thirty years of dirt. I can keep my nose clean, I can become the most stellar human being on the planet, but I'll always have that sordid past. That's how it should be. Here in the real world there are no do overs, just ask Tiger Woods. Tiger is probably the most famous sports figure of our time, he carried himself with class and kept his name out of scandals. No string of baby mommas, no drunken meltdowns on TMZ, he never bit off Phil Mickelsons ear, and he gave more to charity than 100 Derrick Thomas. But he screwed the pooch, he got caught dirty, and you can bet your putter he won't ever completely distance himself from the scandal.

The thing people overlook when they are busy making a saint out of a shit heel, is the message they are sending. Impressionable kids see a guy like Thomas or Woods and they admire their ability, they want to emulate these guys. When we swoon over sports figures, pop culture figures, or bad guys, it only confirms what these kids are thinking, it sends the message that you can do some shitty things and people will still think you are the greatest thing since breast implants. You could dig back through my archives and probably find a post where I've called Tiger a good role model for kids, and he was, right up until he got caught dirty. Children should look to their parents, grandparents, maybe their teachers, as role models. The problem with that is sometimes those examples aren't present or deserving. I don't have a solution for that one, what I can tell you is that it's as wrong a priest at cub scout camp to build up guys like Thomas or Woods as stalwart people, based on their ability to play a game, and willingness to drop some crumbs to the less fortunate, while ignoring their major character defects, which in the case of Thomas left one man dead, and 7 children fatherless. So applaud the guy as a ball player, but spare me the "stalwart human being" bullshit.

Pretty in probation, or Ugly will get you 6 to 20.

So I stumbled upon this website, Bad Teacher, while checking up on some of the douche bags that comment on the KC Star. Basically the site lists teachers, bus drivers, janitors, anyone who happens to work in or for a school and has sex with a student. Missouri has 33 people listed, Kansas is lagging behind with only 22. The difference in sentences is striking, and as you might expect the length of sentence, if any, varies based on the sex of the teacher, and on the degree of attractiveness. In other words, the hot young female teachers usually get probation while the fugly females and most of the males get an entire collection of Encyclopedia Britannica thrown at em. Let's take a look.

Alison Peck, a 24 year old band teacher from the Springfield area, was blowing a 14 year old boys bugle, even had a motel rendezvous with the kid after she was charged. She got probation.

Teresa Engelbach, 22, of Pevely, Missouri and a former substitute teacher and volunteer track coach at Senn-Thomas Middle School. She also had a taste for 14 year old boys, and received probation.



Cathy Heminghaus, 47, of Ferguson, Missouri a former Special School District teacher at Ferguson Middle School, had sex with a boy between 14 and 16. She is doing a six year stretch. She also isn't much to look at.

Male teachers in general received harsher sentences regardless of how they looked. I didn't check up on Kansas teachers, but I've got feeling the results would be the same. I'm not breaking news here, we all know that pretty, young, white teachers, more often than not get off with probation, while homely female teachers and most male teachers get jail time for similar offenses. Using your classroom as your own personal meat locker is wrong. Your looks and sex shouldn't have any bearing on the case, yet time and again we see that it does. Here's the rub, even I find the act less abhorrent when its a younger, attractive female teacher, and a teenage student. My mind tells me it's just as wrong, should be punished just as harshly, but I don't find myself as outraged as if it were a middle aged male teacher. Now I'll be the first to admit, that is some fucked up thinking on my part. while many may not admit as much, I'm far from alone in this. So I'm interested to hear what you clowns think. Sound off, but be honest, I'm really curious as to why people view one case worse than another based on the appearance and sex of the teacher. I have a feeling female readers will have a different view than most male readers, if everyone is being honest.