No Correlation

FACT:In 2004 (the most recent year for which data is available), there were 29,569 gun deaths in the U.S:

16,750 suicides (56% of all U.S gun deaths),
11,624 homicides (40% of all U.S gun deaths),
649 unintentional shootings, 311 from legal intervention and 235 from undetermined intent (4% of all U.S gun deaths combined).
-Numbers obtained from CDC National Center for Health Statistics

Number of homicides by gun in same year in England: 78.

-According to this: http://www.homeoffice.gov.uk/rds/pdfs07/hosb0207.pdf

US Population: 300,000,000
UK Population: 60,000,000

We have 5 times as many people and 150 times as many homicides by gun. Guns are basically illegal in the UK.

But there's no correlation. Yeah right.

Number of gun homicides this year in UK: 50.

God's Other Son

Sorry, I couldn't resist the segue so soon after my Easter post. You see, Don Imus once wrote a very popular book called, "God's Other Son." Well like his brother he's getting crucified right now. The whole thing is nauseating on so many levels.

First of all, Don Imus and his show sidekicks especially, have been doing this kind of racial humor for years, and it was usually far more offensive material (if you're offended by that kind of stuff). I always wondered how he got away with it for so long. Secondly, he's not a moral authority and never claimed to be. He has always been basically a comedian who is on the radio. Like all comedians he will say and do anything for a laugh. Richard Pryor was no different. Third, Jesse Jackson once called New York, (that's all of New York) "Hymietown." He on the other hand, IS a moral leader (supposedly). He also fathered a child with a mistress. Fourth, Al Sharpton does commercials for a company that makes equity loans on people's CARS. That is to say, if you own a cadillac, you can get a few hundred dollar loan at 300% interest rate. Then when you fail to repay they can reposess your car, even though you own it. The absolute worst kind of predatory lending aimed directly at the black community. Another moral leader. Please.

The oughta give out awards for the best fake outrage. Call it the Golden Chicken Wing Award. I hope black people enjoy their latest in a string of "victories". Meanwhile they're still stuck in the economic and educational back of the bus.

Happy Fucking Easter Motherfuckers

Jesus died for you. Well, maybe not you but me anyway. (You know who you are 2/3 of my readership). If only you schmucks hadn't strung up our kid we'd all be laughing, skipping, and fornicating for joy! But no, thanks to some meshugginah schlepping through the desert for longer than the Brooklyn Dodgers went without winning a series, and some kvetching priests in the temple we've had to endure 2000 years of our ass getting medievaled-on.

Thanks to you we have to sit in traffic on the way to the mall, pretend to be nice to our relatives, and for some reason, put a tree in the middle of the living room. We also have to look around for eggs, and be on the lookout for a rabbit. Apparently, in Christianity rabbits lay eggs. It is in this context that we are also supposed to contemplate the "Greatest Story Ever Told" about how He rose from the dead and so forth... So, find the eggs, and then be thankful the son of god rose from the dead and forgives your congenitally guilty ass. Oy vey, no wonder we're all mish-mashed.

Talkin' Jersey Blues

I was sitting in a particularly divey bar, in a fairly grim part of town, trying to watch the Mets game and trying not to watch the Rutgers women's basketball game that was on every other TV in the city. Warrant was blasting on the Jukebox. I turned to my friend and said, "Who the fuck actually put this on?" I didn't think anything could suck more than the last song (some Nickelback clone). He informed me that it was the guy sitting about 3 feet away from me in a leather jacket, too tight jeans with a mullet-ish thing playing air guitar. He definitely heard some portion of my derision and I think was contemplating "stepping" to me. Of course, I would have served that bitch like a pastrami on rye.
Anyway, I tried to get back to the game but then this fucking idiot sitting right next to me started talking my ear off. He asked me if I was a Met fan (which obviously I was), and I got the feeling he was setting me up for something. He asked me if I hated the Yankees, "Uhh yeah kinda" I replied.

"But not the fans right?" He asked.

A pregnant pause ensued that any marginally sober person would've interpreted as a "YES!" Luckily for me this fucking loser was three sheets to the wind.

I observed his obvious characteristics: 1. Drunk off his ass. 2. In his element whereas I was out of mine. 3. Lots of tattoos. 4. Probably some kind of knife or boxcutter on him or in his jacket.

"No," I answered. A baldfaced lie. I fucking hate Yankee fans and this guy was exhibit A,B, and C of why.

Anyway, to make a long story short (because I'm tired of typing) I actually managed to avoid a confrontation. Give myself a smiley! @#$@#

P.S. My TV is broken. That is the only reason you're reading this.