Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Utterly Unrelated Non Sequiturs

(Non sequiturs are unrelated by definition, so perhaps the title to this piece also qualifies.)

(You have to know by now that any piece of mine beginning with a parenthetical is likely to be trouble. I don't suppose you'll find this one to be any less than what you might expect.)

I've finished the clean-up project. The sidebar has been denuded and...

(Before we go any further, or farther, or mother, and I promise that's the last time I'll ever use that joke, an aside to Nick: I go to your site and get a warning that you might be trying to infect me with hideous viruses. I have no idea concerning the truth of that warning, and perhaps I have an overly sensitive computer, but that's why your link has now become part of the past. Sorry! You might want to look into that...)

... and I have also cleaned out much of the rubbish from my past postings. I got rid of 45 or 50 of the things, and everything that remains is something of which I am not embarrassed. That may speak volumes concerning my discretion, but it's the stone cold truth. Meanwhile, however, even those things I've permanently deleted had a thing or two in them I wanted to save. This, O Unwitting Victim, is where I'm saving them. What follows are lines and paragraphs lifted from the past postings I'm shitcanning.

(Yes, I am so ego-driven that I can't bear to part with a few random sentences that lived within my worst pieces. Shoot me now and save yourself future pain.)

This will not make any sense, linearly speaking, but I suppose you've already gathered that.

Enjoy (or a reasonable facsimile thereof.)


Great money-making idea! Manufacture 51-Star American Flags. Be ready to corner the market once Puerto Rico comes around. Or Iraq.


So, now my mouth is a bit dry, since I'm holding a big wad of cotton in one area of it, but other than that, all is well. This does makes one wonder what God had in mind when intelligently designing teeth, though. Does pain in teeth really serve a useful purpose, other than to force either prayer or curses from your mouth? Obviously, one knows to get something fixed when there is pain, but people have been experiencing tooth pain for longer than there have been the tools and techniques to cure that pain. In days of yore, pain meant you pulled the tooth, period. Wouldn't it have made better design sense to just forgo the pain and let them rot out?

Teeth don't make a great argument for evolutionary theory, either. If evolution were fact, wouldn't our teeth have evolved to the point where they would be expected to last, without repair, until we were dead? OK, most of the damage done to teeth is probably self inflicted, what with sugar and crummy oral hygiene habits, but evolution should take those things into account. Where's the evolution complaint desk?


Or manufacture 49-Star American Flags. Get South Dakota to secede.


I've known Fred since our days working together in South Boston, at Blake & Rebhan (an office supply company.) We bonded rather thoroughly at the first office Christmas party we both attended, when we found out that we were both Deep Purple freaks. After a few drinks we were singing "Highway Star" at the top of our lungs, a cappella, to the "delight" of the rest of the partygoers. Since then, we've played ball together on two different teams and gone to many a metal concert, sometimes even when there wasn't any concert.

Let me explain. On two different occasions, we showed up at concerts and there wasn't anyone playing. Once it was Ozzy Osbourne. Unbeknownst to us, Ozzy had cancelled due to illness, but there we were driving into whatever they were calling The Tweeter Center in those days (perhaps "The Tweeter Center") and wondering why there were so few cars in the parking lot. Another time, we headed to Providence to see AC/DC, and when we got there we found a parking space just about a half-block from the auditorium. Again, we wondered why we were so lucky. Turns out we had shown up a week earlier than the date on the tickets. I was totally annihilated, too. Fred pretty much had to pour me back into the car and, so it wouldn't be a total loss, we trucked on back to Dorchester and enjoyed some Chinese food, including an infamous Char Sue Din, which looked pretty much the same later on that night, at home, when it appeared again. I can barely type it without getting sick. Ah, good times!


Combination Cream Cheese/Spackle, in case you get hungry on the job or feel like patching some drywall during brunch.


Since I have nothing better to write about, I'm going to tell you what CDs I'm currently listening to in my car. Oh, boy!

(Hey, if you've got nothing better to do with your time than read me, you've got no right to complain.)


One-time-use disposable cats!


If Prokofiev had been born in 1956 in Detroit, instead of 1891 in St. Petersburg, Russia, and he had dropped some acid, he would have been the white Jimi Hendrix.

(That's the type of statement nobody can easily dispute. It contains no facts, other than the dates, and supposes something that was utterly impossible during the person's real life. I don't really believe it, but what the hell. I felt like saying something totally ridiculous and that works as well as anything else.)


Book: 101 Ways To Decorate Your Apartment With Nosehair.


(Being a bass player, I love extended bass solos. However, some people consider them the musical equivalent of waiting for your number to be called at the registry of motor vehicles. Being a bass player, I hope those people's eyes rot out.)


Deep-fat-fried liver-on-a-stick. Confectioner's sugar drizzle optional.


What can I say about AC/DC that hasn't already been said about slamming a baseball bat into your kidneys repeatedly?


A 56-slice toaster would save time by making a week's worth of toast for a family of 4 all at once!


Have you have ever tried to Google yourself? I've done it quite often. This is because I'm an egotistical moron. You already knew that, though, so let's move on.


I think I know how to make my fortune. Personal Blimps!


He is rude, crude, obnoxious, filthy, an egomaniac, and one extremely funny and talented sonovabitch. In his particular niche of the writing world, he is incomparable. To paraphrase a quote once written about Twain, he is the Lincoln of his literature. Of course, he writes about wrestling - not a whole heck of a lot of budding Hemingways or Steinbecks in that crowd - so it's sort of like being the world's tallest midget.


De Gustibus Non Est Disputatum, as my grandfather used to say before he learned English.


About as much fun as a do-it-yourself colostomy kit.


The thing is, these questionnaires give you choices, such as African-American, Asian, Hispanic, etc., and the choice for white folk like me is Caucasian. Now which one of us white folk made such a stink about being called white that we now have no other identity on these things than Caucasian? I don't remember anyone being particularly upset at being called white. As a matter of fact, I recall it being rather stylish at one point.


I had someday planned on fleshing this whole thing out into a book that people could pass around at parties after they got sufficiently boozed up to the point where they think such things are fun, but I'm using it here because I'm fresh out of ideas today and it will fill lots of space.


I have a feeling this will be about as successful a career path as that home study course I took to become a mohel, but only time will tell.


(Well, I could drive into work expressly to post something, but then everybody here would know that I'm a lunatic, whereas right now they only suspect it. Likewise, I could go to the public library and use one of their computers, but I like to use those to access pornography and make drug deals, and I don't want to leave any sort of a trail that the feds could use to track me down later.)


Finally, if you really feel the need to waste a shitload of time, you could always go here, but you should be a mature audience, it says. Of course, if you were a mature audience, then why the heck would you be wasting your time reading me?


As you may know, I do professional voice-work. Here's something MY WIFE told me while we were dating, and which still tickles me. She said that every time I phoned her, early in our relationship, she thought she had just won something. For the briefest of moments, before she recognized who it was on the phone, she always thought it was some disc jockey. She thought he was calling to tell her that her name had been drawn as the winner in a radio contest of some sort.

Whatever success I've had as a voice talent, or whatever rejections my voice may have received from possible clients, I know that it accomplished this one tremendously fun thing. And that's enough for a lifetime.


Well, shove a toy surprise up my ass and call me Crackerjack!


My knowledge concerning electrical things is limited to shaking a broken light bulb and listening to the filament rattle about.

(Why do we do that? We take a non-working bulb from a socket, shake it, and when we hear the filament bouncing inside it, we nod our heads. What would we do if we didn't hear the filament? Screw the bulb back in and expect it to work because it didn't meet our rigid standards of brokenness?)


Baseball fans who say that baseball games take too long are not baseball fans. It's like a guy saying that he's in love with someone but he wishes he didn't have to spend so much damn time with her.


I'm thinking that's as good a place to stop as any.

Soon, with more better stuff.


haphazardlife said...

Thathas got to be one of your most bizarre blog posts ever.

Craig said...

Ah, yes, Prokofiev. . . The trippy acid-rock of classical music. . .

And why do they call us European-Americans (aka, 'honkies', 'ice-people', 'melanin-challenged') 'caucasian'? I've traced my ancestry back over a milennium, and as far as I can tell, none of my ancestors came from Caucasia, or even the Caucasus Mountains. . . I used to fill out those forms by checking the 'other' box and writing in 'human'; but when I did that when I hired in with my current employer, the HR lady erased it, right in front of me, and checked the 'white/caucasian' box "because I can see with my own eyes that's what you are." I was tempted to say "And I can see with my own eyes that you're a self-important bureaucratic jackass bitch," but I really needed the job. . .

And I need you to tell me more about these do-it-yourself colostomy kits. . . On second thought, no. . . please don't. . .

Suldog said...

Craig - I may have mentioned before that I'm a full one-quarter Hispanic. My Grandmother's ancestry is pure, from Spain, so I have every right to put myself in the "Hispanic" category, even though not one in a hundred people, asked to take at a guess at my ancestry, would likely write down anything other than Irish, Scot, Anglo-Saxon or whatever. Depending upon how peckish I'm feeling, I do sometimes tick the Hispanic box. I'm still waiting for the first challenge, which I will righteously fight and happily shed perhaps a small bit of light onto the idiocy of such categorizations.

Michelle H. said...

Okay. This was a hodgepodge of blog posts past. You realize that the tidbits that remain just makes people wonder what you're talking about and want a full explanation.

Uncle Skip, said...

My paternal grandfather was born in Honduras. Is he Hispanic?
Come to think of it, why are Spaniards singled out? Are the Portuguese included among Hispanics?

Are you going to answer any of these questions?

BTW - you should mention the one-time-use disposable cats at least once a year... maybe there's an International Disposable Cat Day?

Suldog said...

Skip - I don't know about your relatives. I only know about mine. If you just want a non-binding endorsement, sure, why not?

Skip's grandfather is Hispanic!

There ya go! :-)

Daryl said...

I think if you could edit these down a bit, say 140 characters, you could give Denis Leary a run for the money on Twitter .. and he turned his tweets into a book .. I'm just sayin'

Suldog said...

Daryl - Yeah, but Mr. Leary has just a wee bit more notoriety than I do. Now, if I could become famous in some other way FIRST, then it might work. Maybe that serial murderer thing I was considering a few years back...

IT (aka Ivan Toblog) said...

Ya know, of course, that any number of the Irish could be Hispanic?

I mean after what Frankie Drake did to the Spanish Armada back in 1588, a large number of Spanish sailors ended up in Ireland... and everyone knows about sailors, right?

Red Hamster said...

I still find it hard to believe that anything embarrasses you.

Certainly other people have parlayed things of which they should be embarrassed into celebrity careers, books, etc. How about an Utterly Embarrassing Best of Suldog eBook?

(of course, you might want to hire a good lawyer before you publish it)

Jeni said...

With respect to your comment about people and their maturity levels if they read your stuff -well, chronologically speaking, I guess one would say I am quite mature. But mentally speaking -well anyone my age who gets up in the morning and thinks along the same lines as she/he thought when they were under age 25, obviously is not a mature individual, is it? So what am I -mature or immature? If the choice to determine that relies on reading your blog, I'll take the immaturity label any day!

Buck said...

I learned sumthin' today. I googled "mohel." I bet your home-study "send in" test results were interesting.

"Just a lil off the top, please."

Suldog said...

Buck - I actually passed the course, but the problem was I practiced on knockwurst. My first real job was on an eight-day-old, and there was a surprising size difference, and... well, the lawsuit is still pending.

messymimi said...

One-time-use disposable cats! How about just rent-a-cat. There's a hotel somewhere i heard of that keeps lots of cats on staff, so if you are missing yours during your stay, you can rent one to come stay with you in your room.

Either way, i like how your mind works.

Quirkyloon said...

HA! You are one funny dude. All my "keeper" sentences include the word synapses.

Yeah, I have a synapses fetish.

heh heh

But you really scared me with the do it yourself colostomy kit.


There were some other really good ones: Well, shove a toy surprise up my ass and call me Crackerjack!


Chris@Knucklehead! said...

My favorites here should be obvious. The baseball one, for sure. And I loved the Prokofiev-Hendrix theory. And I believe it to be spot on. Maybe Bartok would've been a better choice, but I can't really argue against ol' Sergey.

lime said...

your non-sequiturs make more sense than some of the alleged sequiturs of other folks. some of the individuals encounters at parent night at my son's school leap immediately to mind....

geewits said...

I've always said that if I could choose a super power I'd choose impervious teeth. (Speaking of super powers: The next time someone asks you what super power you would choose, say, "The United States.")

I love the lightbulb observation. Now I will always think of you when I change a bulb.

Baseball games aren't too long, it's just that the beer selling time is too short. Thank goodness I'll be in a suite Thursday night (Texas Rangers). No last call in the suites.

I liked this consolidation or merger or clumping or whatever of things you have posted in the past. I picked a good time to find your blog.

Carolina said...

I'm thinking this post has mostly to do with the drugs you've taken to ease the toothache?

And now I'm off to google mohel and learn what Buck learned ;-)

Carolina said...

I've googled mohel.
Perhaps hubs has a job for you in his soon to open private clinic on our dining table ;-)

Mich said...

Eat more meat on the bone. And chew on the bones afterwards. Does wonders for your teeth. <3 I promise.

I agree with your Prokofiev theory. Mainly just because both he and Jimi Hendrix were pretty much music gods.

Deep fat fried liver on a stick sounds absolutely DIVINE. But what kinds of liver are we talking here? Chicken? Turkey? Duck? Foie Gras? Lamb? Human? Personally I think you should do all of them, each seasoned differently.

I've been saying there needs to be 10-slice+ toasters on the market for YEARS, and no one takes me seriously.


Shrinky said...

You are such a rotten tease, you telling me you DELETED the posts you scaped these little words of wisdom from? Pah, just when you get our interest up to scroll back to a few?

(Flouncing out of the post and slamming the door hard!)

silly rabbit said...

Anytime I fill out any form that asks me what race I am... while professing that such things as race are not a reason to discriminate, I get confused. If they do not discriminate on this issue why do they want to know what race I am? It makes no sense at all!
When faced with this nonsense, I am compelled to check the "other" box and let them wonder what other race exists that they are not aware of and have not listed. If asked for an explanation of "other" I type in "human".
How can you possibly not discriminate if you have to ask what race someone is? It either matters or you shouldn't ask. Sheesh!

Cricket said...

I like these presented this way... but you probably expected that. Unifying themes? Feh.

Though, myself, I think we'd all be better off if we could get Texas to secede. Actually, I think it's somewhat settled that secession is not allowed, but howzabout the rest of us just kick 'em out? Especially the two senators and thirty-odd reps. That's the thing, y'see.

Iknow, I know... there are some good folks down there. I'm willing to forgive quite a bit for the sake of Stevie Ray alone. But still, another Jeezo-publican candidate for prez? Really? We all know how well that last one worked out.

Even worse, this one is a real Texan, as opposed to an Andover/Yale/Harvard silver-spoon faux Texan. Sure, let's take a guy who's saved and pretty much hoping for those end-times and put him in charge of a bunch of nukes.

Suldog said...

Shrinky - Believe me, darling, you got the best of it here. If I kept the entire postings, half the lines would never have been seen because you would have become so damn bored before getting to them.

Matt Conlon said...

THAT is a great post!

Incidentally, if you ever want to go back and take a nother look at some of your older stuff, Archive.org is a website that exists only to take snapshots of websites over the years...

Your's can be seen here: http://wayback.archive.org/web/20110701000000*/http://jimsuldog.blogspot.com

Suldog said...

Matt - Thanks for that. It's really cool to be able to go back and see how the blog looked then, who I was linked to, etc.

Clare Dunn said...


You probably coulda shit-canned the Char-Sue-Ding one, but otherwise, I'm with ya'

xoxoxo, cd

joan said...

I kept reading, love random stuff, but all I could think about was teeth. I am sure that had to do with having 2 crowns and a deep cleaning yesterday. Four hours at the dentist! I am not a good patient when it comes to dental care. And the hygienist said, "most people love it". I can hardly believe that one.