Shut. It. Down. 9/30/13

I’m tired and worn out from monitoring the shitfest that is Congress, so here’s a post before the lights go out. Yes, I love y’all that much.

Oh and there’s lots of salty language and general pissy-ness in this post due to what’s going on in D.C.

1) **Sarcastic slow clap for Congress.**

The shenanigans that have been going on during the past few days are completely ludicrous, embarrassing and yes, racist. Okay folks…lemme ‘splain one more time: We have a Black President, it’s time to get the fuck over it. The ACA is the law of the land, and acting like a bunch of whiny little pricks because you can’t control everything is so detrimental to this country and not to mention, democracy. What creases me is Congress–whose approval rating is hovering around 10 percent–is being controlled by a minority of dumbfuck ‘muricans who don’t know their assholes from their eyeballs. This seriously makes me wanna vomit.

2) Musical interlude.

3) A great American city is on life support. 

(via HumanEvents.com)

(via HumanEvents.com)

I came across this excellent photo essay today via the Daily Mail/UK.

Ghosts of students past: Fascinating pictures of a derelict Detroit school… mixed with evocative images from its heyday

(via Detroiturbex.com)

(via Detroiturbex.com)

  • Photos of Cass Technical High School in Detroit, Michigan, whose alumni include Diana Ross and Jack White
  • School moved to new building in 2005 which left original facility empty and it was later demolished last year
  • Largest school in Michigan by 1942 with 4,200 students attending eight-storey brick and limestone building

Click through this collection–the photos are stunning and humbling. The sad thing is, this could feasibly happen in every major city in the country if we’re not careful.

4) Hey, being born white is one helluva personal achievement. Where I fucked up is I WASN’T BORN MALE. What a filthy slut I am!

Via AutoStraddle and Jezebel.

Who’s Really to Blame for the Looming Government Shutdown? Sluts.

Yeah, a bunch of dried up white men with shriveled peens who probably haven’t had sex since Reagan was in power, are thinking about my cooch and how they can fuck with it without having to actually fuck it. Talk about a wasted hard-on, but in all seriousness, who would want to diddle these dudes? See, that’s why they’re pissed off–no self-respecting woman would EVAH see any of the conservative members’ members.

Bite me.

5) Apparently, there are folks out there who pay shit-tons of money to watch this.

(via ExtraLunchMoney.com)

(via ExtraLunchMoney.com)

It’s called CAKE SITTING. Yes. It is. True story. Do you really need me to explain it with words? I think not.

(via ixdaily.com)

(via ixdaily.com)

I’ve been looking for new revenue outlets and this might be the one for me. I like to bake and I like to sit. Sounds like a match made in heaven to me!

The Choad Menagerie

You’re probably hoping that this particular post is the McCrabass version of Tennessee Williams’s classic “The Glass Menagerie”, but it isn’t.

Simply put–I am here to crush your dreams once again.

The nice thing is that once I get going on this post, you’ll see why it has been awarded this particular hed.

Who here has heard of Kerry Bentivolio? Anyone? His grand plan is to be the Republican rep in Congress for Michigan’s 11th district which was left vacant after former-Rep. Thaddeus McCotter abruptly resigned in July. He’s not your run-of-the-mill-Republican (whatever that means) either, he’s much more fun. (fun in a herpes-outbreak kinda way)

Kerry Bentivolio (courtesy liberty-candidates.org)

From DetroitYes.com:

On the first day of school last year, Kerry Bentivolio told students in his English class at Fowlerville High School that he had one goal: to make each one of them cry at least once.
……..
Nine months later, school administrators reprimanded him for intimidating and threatening students by grabbing their desks and yelling in their faces or for slamming his fists on their desks.

Oh it gets so much better. Yeah, um…. I’ll just let youse guys read it. From Politico.com

The brother of Kerry Bentivolio says the Michigan congressional candidate, who’s favored to win on Tuesday, is “mentally unbalanced” and could end up in jail.

“I’ve never met anyone in my life who is conniving and dishonest as this guy,” Phillip Bentivoliosaid, according to the Michigan Information and Research Service   (subscription required). “He’s my brother so it’s hard to talk about this, but I believe that if he gets elected, he’ll eventually serve time in prison.”

Kerry Bentivolio is the Republican candidate in Michigan’s 11th district, running to replace Rep. Thaddeus McCotter, who failed to secure enough valid signatures to qualify for the ballot.

Kerry Bentivolio is a Santa Claus impersonator and reindeer farmer. He made headlines after old court documents surfaced quoting him saying he had a “problem figuring out which one I really am, Santa Claus or Kerry Bentivolio.”  He’s running against Democrat Syad Taj.

Philip Bentivolio said that in 1992, he helped his brother build houses in Arkansas and Kerry owed him $20,000. This month he told Kerry he would go to the media with the story if he did not get paid, and Kerry then said he called the FBI and the Little Rock Police Department.

“He told them that I told them that if he didn’t send me money, I was going to kill myself,” Phillip Bentivolio said. “I couldn’t believe it.”

Kerry Bentivolio said that his brother has “serious mental issues” and that the FBI was looking into his brother’s request for repayment 20 years after the fact.

Kerry Bentivolio reminds me of the crazy uncle you see once a year at family gatherings. And, because of your strong sense of family coupled with WASP guilt, you’re forced to spend “quality time” with him which will ensure that the karma train doesn’t mow you over during a future run. Watching him pound Jack & Cokes would be similar to watching cement harden. He also strikes me as the type of uncle who gives the female relatives WET KISSES, but not on the cheek, oh no! Them smooches are bound for your beak, hon, and it’s best just to let it happen then start pounding French 75s to help douse the image of his maw careening toward your pucker out of your mental Rolodex. Um, I speak from experience as a matter of fact.

Back to the feud de Bentivolio Brothers. Holidays are probably rough at the Bentivolio manse. Also, I’m quite verklempt on the whole “I don’t know if I’m Kerry Bentivolio or Santa Claus” bit. It’s .. it’s … it’s just …. yep.

I’m gonna go on the record and say that if Obama was a white dude, this shit wouldn’t be spewing forth from the Mayor of 9/11 and his ilk. I’m waiting for Rudy to take credit for the clean-up of NYC post-Sandy. You know it’s gonna happen and here’s a pre-emptive ‘shuttie’ to him.

Conundrum

Help me out here please.

Which one is Donatella Versace and which one is Iggy Pop?

Any luck? No? Well, me neither.

Ok, here’s another.

Holy Former Heroin Addict. I still can’t tell.

Maybe it’ll help if I separate the two, study them individually then try again.

Here’s Mr. Pop:

Those photos don’t do dick for me.

Hang on….

Wow. Jennifer Aniston sure hasn’t aged well. Poor thing. Hon, if you want to look good as you age, you can’t be a dullard. Sadly, Ms. Aniston has the personality of a footstool–but that’s a possible future post.

Back to Mr. Pop — who I dig, by the way. One of the best performers ever — I suggest you spend the moola and see him. Totally worth every damn penny.

He was totally hot once — a total US–UGLY SEXY. Sidenote: We have the same hairstyle here.

Ok, now I’m beginning to see the difference. Iggy has less nose & facial hair –but probably not much –than Donatella. Also, Donatella has a teefus issue. You’d think she woulda taken some of the scratch she used to pay for her plastica to get her teefus fixed. They have doctors for that you know. Good ones too.

Now I’m really confused. My brain hurts.

I need a palate cleanser.

Oh that did it. Much better. Palate cleansed and then some. Thank you, Mr. Irrfan Khan. You’re so pretty.

Not QUITE done with him yet. Funny, he resembles someone with whom I’m closely yoked.

Well played, Bollywood, well played.

Digression can be a bad thing from time to time.

Ici Madame Versace — she’s been committed to memory. Ok. Got it. Good. Finally. Ready to move on.

Aaaaaaaaaand I’m back to square one.

 

 

The Versatile Blogger Award

I would like to thank whomever thought of this award, and for giving a kid from a West suburban, upper-middle class background a chance! I don’t know where I’d be without a stable family, a good education and the opportunities awarded to someone of my class.

Today, I sit at my MacBook Pro before my two cats, a messy apartment, “The Town” showing on HBO for the gazillionth time, a winner of the Versatile Blogger Award. Who is responsible for bestowing this honor upon McCrabass? Why it’s none other than the fabulous Sandra who writes the faboo blog, She Can’t Be Serious.  This also means that someone chose my blog as one of their 15 featured blogs. My mission, along with walking the Earth and ridding it all things bad with my Ouiser Boudreaux wisdom, is to pay it forward by honoring 15 blogs I find to be apex of awesome.

During my tenure as an award recipient, I must agree to the following conditions:

1) Thank the person who gave me this award and link them back to their post.

2) Share 7 things about myself.

3) Pass this award along to 15 recently discovered blogs and let them know about it!

First, about McCrabass..

1) I worked in Hollywood for a long time in post-production. I actually worked in the field I got my degree it–a first for many and very rare in this day and age. I left because I got tired of being treated like crap by a handful of people who had all the power–undeserved power. Being yelled at by someone because their Starbuck’s wasn’t foamy enough is a big bowl of wrong. I don’t care how many men you blew to get your job.

2) I’ve had the chicken pox twice, and have been bitten by a Black Widow Spider once.

3) When I say no, I mean it.

4) Contrary to what the public seems to think, I don’t think clipped cat hair would make a good sweater.

5) I could watch “Godfather Pts I & II” over and over again. Same with “Just Wright.” Somewhere between those three choices is sanity.

6) The most unusual job I ever had was editing porn.

7) If you tell my parents about #6, I’ll have to hunt you down and cover you in cock rings.

Now, for the blogs I dig and are now also worthy recipients of the Versatile Blogger Award. Some are funny, some more serious, but they’re all worth a look. Please check them out–I know you’ll find something within them you enjoy. If not, you’re dead inside.

Geneva Daily Photo

Squathole 

If Weather Was a Dick, It’d be …

Candy Coated Rose Petals

Office Crap

Tortoise off On a Wild Hare!

Robert Loerzel 

Samalamadingdong

Poorly Dressed People 

Lame Adventures

Sally Duros

Throw Grammar From the Train

What’s With *Today* Today

Bindy Fry’s Itty Bitty Brain Basket

MarkCz

I’ll probably add more over the next few days. Until then, please read them. Hell, even subscribe to them. They’re worth it. Trust me!

My Spartan Vacation

In life, there are certain absolutes: death and taxes. In South Haven, Michigan the certain absolutes are mediocre, overpriced breakfasts served by slovenly waitresses, and middle-aged, smarmy guys sitting behind you at said breakfast making unoriginal, frat boy (read: douchey) comments. Also, Lake Michigan makes for lovely swimming outside of Chicago and nudists don’t care who see their naughty bits swaying in the lake breeze.

Today was day two of our Michigan Adventure. We arrived at the little cottage in Coloma (yeah, I’ve never heard of it either) mid-day Friday, dropped our stuff then set out to explore the area. So far, our fave town name/slogan is “Covert: A Community on the Move!” And no truer slogan was ever written because it is a place of low-activity, therefore, it’s void of blog material.

Loch Michigan

Another sort of-absolute is the farther you go inland, the probability that every 5th house is a meth lab, rises. The view from the house is lovely – it overlooks a very serene Lake Michigan – something I’m not used to seeing in Chicago. See, the Lake Michigan I’m used to in Chicago is always in a pissy mood, which probably stems from all of the sewage that is dumped into it after every heavy deluge. Why the city and state are unable to come to a workable solution to that issue is beyond me. All I know is that I would never swim at any of the Chicago beaches for fear of catching cholera or Ebola. No thanks – even though my ovaries will never be used for their intended purpose, I still want them to be healthy. If I swim in Lake Michigan in Chicago, that’s not a guarantee.

The first night, I over-served myself, which made for bumpy sleepy time. I couldn’t sleep at all. Plus, it was wicked hot in the bedroom. Not a good combo. So, breakfast the next morning was a rough landing. We ventured to Captain Nemo’s in South Haven. Big mistake. The restaurant was hot and crowded, and it took an act of Congress to get the waitress’ attention. When she took our order, with about as much enthusiasm as an intern sent into lance boils on a New Orleans hooker’s overworked ass, we all looked at each other knowing we were in for a long morning. The topper was the coffee was meh AND the only sweetener the Captain had in abundance was Sweet N Low.

What made the wait tolerable was the running commentary by the three gents sitting behind us. From what I gleaned from their mutterings was that they had just played golf and were now ready for breakfast. Fine. I get it and can relate. However, that’s where the similarities disappeared. Apparently, one was having major tum-tum issues and “wanted to fart but couldn’t trust it’ll be quiet.” I alerted my fellow travelers of the fart issue, which prompted one of them, my sister Liza, to text one of our sisters and alert of this verbal gem. I alerted the other sister in New Jersey and her response was “Klassy.”
‘Twas.

During breakfast, the potty-mouth triumvirate worked on a verse of the Hokey Pokey with the word “pecker” inserted (shut UP) in the appropriate place of the song. The vision of them ‘shaking it all about’ is now stuck in my mind and I’d give anything for a lobotomy.

After breakfast, we high-tailed it to Saugatuck. We drove up (the other) Lake Shore Drive and took a gander at all of the lovely homes. The sad reality is that every other house is for sale. You know things are bad when the rich have to start dumping their lakeside vacation homes in order to keep food on the table. Too bad I don’t have a big, fat farmer wad of cash stuffed in my mattress, otherwise I’d seriously consider buying one — they were that lovely.

When we finally arrived in Saugatuck proper, we were unaware of the “art” fair going on which made parking difficult and the streets crowded. We wandered around and I bought a shirt. Big thrill. But in general, the shopping blew donk. All of the women’s clothing offered was one step beneath Chico’s. Yep—it was that bad. I won’t go into it because I want y’all to have happy visions of Saugatuck.

After Saugatuck, we headed to Holland, Michigan. Nice place, but not as quaint as Saugatuck. After Holland, we needed to stock up on hard liquor, which isn’t an easy task here in Michigan. You see, there are stores that sell only beer and wine. Fine. But, if you want the good stuff, you have to go to a liquor store. Why Michigan can’t figure a way to sell all three in the same place then tax the hell out of it is beyond me. The local liquor store is a depressing place I’m told, but it has a world-class selection of printed porn. Now I know where to go when I need some new reading material. Or just reading material in general. However, next time, I need to find an alcohol that mixes well with this.

Mmm.. tastes great with sippin' whiskey

After a desperately needed dip in Loch Michigan, during which we spied our el nude-o neighbors (“Wang dang doodle”), hanging out in their yard. Our landlords had warned us of the neighbors’ clothes-free ways but that didn’t stop us from giggling like a bunch of kids. Before you get all Judgey McHolierThanThou, you would’ve laughed too. You’d be dead inside if you didn’t emit at least one chuckle.

Sunday was worship-free as always. We did our own praising to the good lord by seeing how far we could wade out before our heads disappeared underwater. Our guesstimate was 1/4 mile.

The rest of our stay was uneventful and relatively booze-free — that’s not a complaint, just an observation. Sunday night, we dined on pizza that could pass muster in some parts of Chicago. We learned from some cool neighbors to avoid South Haven at all costs in the future and that it’s nice living in this area year-round.

We’ll be back, probably sooner rather than later.

The view from there