Albie Cullen's Blog, page 2

March Winds Going To Blow All My Troubles Away

So we had the Mayan calendar which didn’t turn out to be all that accurate.  Now we have the New England calendar.  It’s still 365 days but July is 10 days long, August 5 days and we have 63 days of  February.  I can see why people in Seattle and London kill themselves.  It’s not the complete lack of Vitamin D it’s the never ending monotony of the drudgery.  To quote a close friend, “It just never stops ending around here”.  (If you have any idea what that means e-mail me because I’m lost).  These 28 days of February have gone by slower than my 28 day stint in rehab (the second time).

Giving serious consideration of turning my thoughts of harming myself and others into actions I decided it was time for a change.  This made me start thinking about change.  First off, why do people only want to change things they actually enjoy?  Bad marriage? Terrible job? Horrible boss?  Hang in there for another twenty years or so.    ”What doesn’t kill you . . . .” News flash: will eventually kill you if you insist on enduring it long enough.

People insist on changing habits they ultimately enjoy.  Now before we go any further if you have a habit over which you are powerless and your life is unmanageable I’ll meet you in a church basement.  But what if you are powerless but its manageable?  Or what if you are still powerful but just enjoy it?  The LOL quit smoking.  I am very impressed and how can I not be given her hourly irritability (even worse than usual) as a reminder of the ongoing accomplishment.  Yes there are studies linking smoking to health problems.  But I also know people who chain smoke from their teens well into their 90′s.   I guess its expensive but so is filling your gas tank.  People don’t walk more and drive less.

Let’s assume that each cigarette takes 3 seconds of your life.  A pack of cigarettes costing you a minute.  Pack a day would mean you are losing seven minutes a week.  Two weeks you would lose an hour.  Smoke for a year and you lose a day of your existence.

Now you lose that day at the end.  So when you are sitting in that nursing home, broke, all friends dead, kids and grandkids afraid to visit, waiting, no begging for the end are you really going to wish you had that day back?  No f-ing way.   You’ll be puffing like Rick James on a crack pipe saying, “For the love of God end this, please”.

I decided I would give up the poppy tea and Red Bull and try to improve my attitude.  Well the withdrawal which involved little or no sleep for a week certainly didn’t improve my attitude.  As I spent another day feeling like death warmed over I asked myself why I was quitting?  I could give you a million answers (expense, legality, health) but not a single reason.

Thank God a new shipment arrived after about eight days.  You ain’t going to find me in that nursing home.

KOKO

Cold, Rain and Snow

“Married me a wife, she’s been trouble all my life” – Grateful Dead

Looking at three straight weekends housebound with the Lovely Old Lady (LOL) as another storm targets Boston.  Clinical depression was passed on the first weekend, now beyond suicidal but don’t have either the mental concentration or physical strength ti pull it off.   Can’t find a glimmer of hope anywhere.  Furthur won’t even announce it’s Northeast Spring Tour dates.  Speaking of which on the band’s message boards a fan described winter as kind of like being on a broken roller coaster, with every pass, the park staff says, “We’re working on the problem.”

Seriously, why couldn’t I have been Ryan Seacrest or Randy Jackson?  No real talent or ability but a big paycheck.  Of course Randy has to sit next to the Cabbage Patch Doll that is Mariah Carey.  I know television adds ten pounds but Mariah really?  Any mirrors in your 50,000 square foot mansion?

Hey Oscar Pistorius every guy hates Valentine’s Day, but seriously?  Before you question his defense keep in mind South Africa not a big fan of women.  The country also has one of the highest rates of fatal domestic violence in the world.  Many of which go unpunished.  Nonetheless I won’t be locking myself in the bathroom at any point this weekend.

Not sure when both Congress and President became no show jobs with a big paycheck.   Name one accomplishment in the last four years.  Who cares?  Do you care? I don’t give a flying f…, Obamacare.   Wish they would all just man up and throw us all over the fiscal cliff.  That would put a stop to the constant chatter.    Hey when the going gets tough (and Winter gets long in Washington) go to Florida and play a few holes with Tiger Woods.  With Michele and the kids in Hawaii I wonder what they played at night? Go Fish or maybe Twister?  Heard Bill Clinton and Greg Norman were in charge of the 19th hole.   At least George W spent eight years screwing things up to a fare the well while Wall Street, Big Oil and Haliburton robbed both the American public and the US Treasury.

How about those Red Sox?  Three years ago I was writing John Henry was a moron.  Now Terry Francona agrees and he’s a genius.   At least the book provided GM, Boy Blunder Theo with an excuse (how about those Cubbies, still 100 years from a Championship but now stuck with Theo’s salary and incompetence).   But things are going to be different this year Red Sox Nation, ring any 86 year old bells?

I know not the greatest post, but given the length of the winter the push of every key is a major task.  Bad time of year to quit Red Bull, Poppy tea, and smokes.  I mean what the hell are the LOL and I going to do this weekend, talk to each other?

“When going through Hell, keep going”  Winston Churchill Winston never spent a winter in Boston.

KOKO

 

 

 

Sunny Music For Shady People

As my fragile psyche circles the drain of the black abyss that is February in Boston a slight, sliver of hope emerges.   Last night at the Paradise Rock Club the Southern Rock Band Blackberry Smoke made its Boston debut.  While familiar with their music I was unsure as to what to expect from the live show.  The first positive sign was that the ‘Dise was packed.  This despite not a single radio spin or a drop of real or digital ink.  Mainstream media being so beholden to corporate interests (i.e. greed) no longer has any interest in live music (as opposed to lip sync) performed by real, talented musicians.  Not only were the 800 men (and some pretty hot chicks) actual fans but they were feeling it for a Wednesday night.  The band’s first night in Boston was met with raucous applause.

As the saying goes, “smoke em if you got em”, and from the opening notes of “Leave A Scar” it’s was clear Smoke has “it”.  The band is as tight as a pair of fingerless gloves.  The understated, sneakingly charismatic, front man, “brother” Charlie Starr kept the energy going.  The long haired band of “brothers” draws on the classic Southern Rock sounds of Skynyrd, and The Crowes.   “2 six packs of Shiner/99 cent butane lighter/Lucky Strikes and a fifth of Patron/Ice down the  Igloo Cooler/tank of gas oughta do her/I can feel a good one comin’ on”, you get the idea.

The first highlight was an extended jam on “Sleeping Dogs Lie” which meandered into the ABB’s “Midnight Rider”.  The set peaked for me in “Ain’t Much Left of Me”  which drove into Zeppelin’s, “When the Levee Breaks”.    The night’s music was drawn largely from the bands’ last two outstanding studio efforts, “The Whippoorwill” and “Little Piece of Dixie”.  Versatile doesn’t begin to describe a band that flawlessly goes from classic country to Southern Blues to Zeppelin and back without missing a beat literally.

The $20 ticket price was a bargain in this day and age of paying outrageous service fees on top of $1,000 face value tickets (Rolling Stones).  How about spending $100 a second ($200 total) to meet the artist (Black Crowes)?  BBS is a band that’s paid its dues and appreciates the hard earned fans’ support;  ”If you want to walk in my boots/and take all that I took/it ain’t as easy as it looks.”  If you waited by the tour bus, Charlie and his “brothers” would be happy to speak with you and even take a picture if you asked nicely.

Finally, I have seen dozens of bands when in Boston pay tribute to “Boston’s Best”.  Usually, its a poorly rehearsed verse of some marginal band; Geils, The Lemonheads.  Smoke however did it’s homework and then some.  The first encore was Aerosmith’s “Lord of Your Thighs”.  No “Dream On” bullshit, the real deal.  Any reservation I had vanished as to this being one of the best live shows I’ve seen not just in Boston, but ever.

I been rained on, rode hard and put up wet

danced with the devil till I’m in debt

took all I got and there ain’t much left of me

I been knocked down, drug out and left for dead

barely held together by a few old threads

hey I’m still here, there ain’t much left to see

I’m still holding on and there ain’t much left of me

Put that in your pipe and smoke it.

KOKO

Unreality TV

Here we are back in what my friend Chris Robinson best describes as, “Stuck in a January that will not end.”  Now that the Patriots have self destructed, I figured I’d use my far reaching blog to pitch my own reality show.

The mornings are all pretty much the same:  I wake up in a bed that, thanks to the Lovely Old Lady (LOL), is already pretty much made.  It’s always freezing and it’s always dark.  I then make my first decision of the day; either pull the covers over my head or get out of bed (and crawl under it).

At some point I drag my tired, old, ass into the shower.  The days go about the same.  I deal with two types of people; victims and their enablers.  Nothing is ever anyone’s fault.  When I point out the situation in which people find themselves is in fact largely their own doing, the victims find a sympathetic ear.  Someone who tells me my position is only serving to re-victimize these people.  I am still trying to figure out people who aren’t victim’s in the first place can be further victimized.  We are no longer Americans we are Victimicans.

But the nights are where it really gets interesting.  The worse month of the year is marked by the return of the worst television show ever; The Bachelor.  Every year I say they cannot find a bigger gimbo (guy bimbo) and twelve girls dumber then the previous season but ABC always amazes me.

Tuesday and Wednesday are American Idol.  Never thought I would miss Simon Cowell and the chemically imbalanced (but not for lack of effort) Paula Abdul.  But after just a week of Mickey Mirage and Mariah (enough about me, what do you think about me?) Carey I dread midweek.

The other night for reasons unclear to me the LOL was watching a new reality show; The Taste.  Other than a thoroughly confusing premise which appears to involve cooking, the show is far from reality.  Two of the hosts names are Nigella and Ludo.  Seriously?  I have traveled all over the world and never met anyone with names as dumb as those two.  Nigella, did her parents conceive her after eating Nutella?

Fortunately, Thursday there are no reality shows so I basically waste time on the Internet  staring at the local surf report (flat followed by flatter, then flattest did I mention freezing cold?) longing for warmer days.

By Friday, I start looking at Craig’s List for local gun shows thinking I should grab an Uzi while I still can.

Saturday I usually opt for under the bed.  Sunday I wish I had bought the Uzi. I alternately think of all the people I could use it on always ending with myself at the top of the list.

Now that’s a real reality show.

KOKO

Tweet, Tweet

Never really did understand Twitter.  I really don’t care what I’m doing most of the time, so why would I either a.) take the time to find out or 2.) care what someone else was doing.    Lots of tweets today. One of the many problems with Twitter is you cannot convey the emotion behind your words.  For instance today is a sad day for many reasons.

President O so bad for me and my mama was sworn in.  With all  those extra cops around Washington you think someone would have arrested him for fraud.  Remember “Change”?  That was what he sold on Twitter four years ago and we were buying.  First thing O’blank sheet of paper did was reappoint all those treasury people who brought you the economic meltdown.  No change there.  Four years later Wall Street execs are wealthier and  more powerful than ever.  Where’s the change there?   Me and you still busted.  No change there, either.  His new Twitter handle is “Forward”.   First step forward a tax increase for the aforementioned Busted.  Well at least he’s finally got around to the change.  On this MLK day, its sad that this President does not have the courage, intestinal fortitude  and commitment of the good Doctor.  We kid ourselves with pomp and circumstance and encouraging tweets that somehow the next four years will be different.  Beyonce sings the National Anthem and somehow everything will be alright.  I am tweeting you right now, “Forward will mean further in debt, and any more change will be for the worse.”

Speaking of a lack of courage and commitment how about those Patriots.  It’s this simple, the Ravens came in and stole their lunch money.   Where’s all the politically correct police when you need them?  For three hours the Patriots were “bullied” into submission.   The Patriots had no chance.  Funny, twitter is using terms like “end of an era”.  Now where have I heard that before?  Oh yeah, on this blog seven weeks ago.

Bullying, leads us to another hot twitter topic.  US Attorney Carmen Ortiz, who not only looks like a maton (spanish for bully), her heavy handed prosecution lead a prominent defendant Aaron Swartz to commit suicide.  Ortiz’ husband, Thomas Dolan, a former IBM executive, one per center, who pays no taxes and is currently unemployed defended his wife on Twitter.  He tweeted an attack on Swartz’ grieving family.  A real class act that Ortiz family

That’s another problem with Twitter.  Better to be thought a fool, rather than be like Dolan and tweet to the world and confirm it.

KOKO

I Came Down With Last Night’s Rain

I may have have come down with last night’s rain, but that doesn’t mean I’m still all wet.  Seriously, what the Sam Dell is going on.  I know Americans are for the most part: dumb (see below).  But this week things have been taken to a whole new level.

So as I am watching American Idol and thinking there is no way I can take another minute much less three more months of Nicky Mirage and Mariah I Cary only about me I figured I’d update you with the news of the day.  (I do like the “how did I get here, and when can I get out of here” look on Keith Urban’s face.

1.  Lance Armstrong took drugs.  Apparently the only one who didn’t realize he took drugs was Lance. Professional cycling is to sports what the Grateful Dead is to the music business.  I mean this revelation is the equivalent of discovering Keith Richards was on heroin when you saw him in concert 1972 through 1982.  Hello?  Not sure what the big deal is really.  Every other cyclist was taking the same crap, so it was a level playing field.  Also no one was happier about those seven Tour De France wins then US Cycling and the US Post Office team both of whom were complicit in Lance’s drug use.  Now they have turned on him because its politically expedient to do so.

Some “crisis manager” whatever that is says Lance should start a foundation to dissuade youth athletes from blood doping.  Having survived more than a few self imposed crisis the best thing to do is avoid the crisis in the first place.  So Lance maybe you shouldn’t have been so heavy handed on those denials?  But a foundation on blood doping?  The process doesn’t involve buying a few pills or powders on the street corner.  You need like a rogue doctor, basically a hospital room, a bunch of blood and some serious pharmaceuticals.  So Lance no more foundations.

2.  Manny Te’o was catfished.  No. Manny Te’o made up some crazy story so he could win the Heisman. For those of you have been under a rock, Manny Te’o was a star football player at Notre Dame.  He fell in love (online) with this girl that he never met or saw much less touched or kissed.  Supposedly, she at 22 and without tweeting anyone up and died 6 hours after his grandmother.  Every press opportunity he got he dedicated his season to the two of them.  Shocker, she wasn’t real.  Now he is saying that he was “catfished” which is Internet slang for being duped by a woman basically.  Hey Manny, not even your dead grandmother believes that story.    Despite all logic, inference, and fact to the contrary thats his story and he’s sticking to it.  Pro scouts think his stock in the NFL draft may drop.  Well the 20 missed tackles in the national Championship game did not help either.

Hey, maybe people believe Lance and Manny.  I mean Obama promised he would never raise taxes on the middle class got reelected and less than a month later raised our taxes 2 percent while basically letting the wealthy off scot free.

Micky wish you were a mirage, Steven Tyler where art thou?

KOKO

 

Shakedown Street

“Nothing shaking on Shakedown Street, use to be the heart of town” – Grateful Dead

Too bad Jerry Garcia didn’t take a few less drags on those camel no filters or chase a few less dragons (smoking opium).  He would have had the pleasure of living in Shakedown Nation.  Not a day goes by where someone (usually some multi-national corporation) tries to screw me, without so much as a peck on the cheek first.

Had an office cleaning company.  They sent me a contract stating the price was going up $10 a month.  Fine, except price was retroactive 6 months.  So I fired them.  Three months later they sent me three e-mails saying I had an overdue balance of three different amounts. We finally agreed on a balance of $20.  After that was paid I received an e-mail stating they wanted another $140.

Bought a copier from Staples.  I mailed in the $150 rebate three years ago.  Taking allow 6-8 weeks for processing to a new level.

Of course no one is better at bending you over than the telecommunications and insurance industries.  I canceled my Verizon phone service.  For three months running I’ve received three different “final bills” for the last three months running.  I sued them for $3.89 which at least sopped the bills.  I upgraded to a Verizon iPhone 4.0 and was told I would receive a $50 BJ’s gift card.  I got a $400 bill for the iPhone and “didn’t qualify” for the gift card.

Pre-paid my malpractice insurance (which I was told I could do) to save roughly $200 in finance charges.  Now if I don’t pay the finance charge I’m told the insurance will be canceled.

The final straw was the Black Crowes reunion tour.  Ticketmaster is world class for riding your ass dry.  Fifteen to twenty percent in “Service fees” for I presume the service of wasting hours on-line only to have the website crash when tickets go on sale. Not to mention over seventy percent of the tickets being pre-sold to scalpers such as StubHub.

Bad enough two hours of your life (well actually my buddy Yzertime’s) that you will never get back is gone, Before you get tix they ask if you want to buy a, $19.99″Remedy” t-shirt.  If the Crowes ever play Remedy, Angels, Hard to Handle or any other “hit” while I am in audience I will find the electrical source to the venue and kill it.  No -t-shirt? How about a $75 VIP upgrade, where I can meet the band?  How about just selling me what I want? From Stop & Shop to the Web I am constantly being upsold.

Now you want me to pay $75 to meet the shaggy, moody, talented, antsy, angry, toothpick, Chris Robinson?  Back in the day Chris and the Crowes came through Boston on the leg of an East Coast tour.  Chris had left himself short in the magic bean, powder and potion department.  The Crowes left free tickets and backstage passes for a mutual acquaintance who at the time dealt in those sort of things.  (Right now I think he’s dealing in time owed to the Massachusetts Department of Corrections).  Unfortunately, Ticketmaster didn’t have an option where the Crowes would again pay to meet me.

KOKO

Voice Activation Required

Just bought a new car for the Lovely Old Lady (LOL).  Some of the best advice I ever received was, “If it’s got wheels or tits sooner or later its going to give you problems”.  With that in mind I look for one thing in a new car: the lowest price possible.  Having settled on the make and model (Toyota 4Runner) the only decision left was the style.  Having owned a Honda Civic with no radio, the base model seemed pretty nice to me.  For about $3,000 more or less than $50 a month you could get all the bells and whistles including seat warmers and voice activated entertainment and GPS.  Initially I told the salesman that  cloth seats and old fashioned AM/FM (does anyone even listen to the radio anyone?) would be fine.  The LOL chimed in, “Yeah, after all I’ve done he’s too cheap to spend the money to keep my ass warm.”  Given that she has done a lot and her butt is cold, ice cold by my touch, I figured it was $50 a month well spent.

So on Friday night we get the vehicle home and pull out the manual.  The history of Constitutional Law in America is both shorter and easier to understand than the owner’s manual.  I initially tried the “quick start guide”  which seemed to refer you back to the owner’s manual repeatedly.  Getting late the LOL said, “You can just program the radio”.  I explained that the voice recognition system needed to be programmed to her voice.  (After all I’ve heard enough of it, the whole neighborhood can identify it (Jesus Christ, Albie What the F!), so why should the car be spared.

So we both entered the front seat and started the vehicle.  The computer voice said, “Hello, how can I help you?”  Reading from the manual, I tried to instruct the LOL.  ”Don’t tell me what to do,” she screamed. “Programming FM2″ said the computer voice.  I hit the reset button but every time I tried to direct her, she responded, “stop telling me what to do” which prompted the computer to respond, “programming FM2″.   The LOL is not a big fan of people or computers as it turns out not doing what their told.  ”F-Off” she said to me. To which the computer said, “System turning off”.  With that it was back in the house.

Seems my troubles were just beginning.  As I entered the house she said, “Now, there’s something wrong with the TV.”  I wonder if the head of the NASA space program’s entertainment system works with one remote?   Despite explaining to her that you have to use a combination of old fashioned manual and two clickers she’s determined to use one universal remote.  When that doesn’t work she starts pounding remote buttons, randomly.  Now, as you probably know the buttons need to be programmed sequentially.  So hitting them randomly in a panic is like undoing a completed Rubic’s cube.  I went to the receiver to try and diagnose the problem.  The first thing I noticed was the iPod cord was now on top of the receiver.   In order to get the cord coiled nice and neatly it had to be unplugged.  I know its more important that things actually look good rather then function but given the 200 inputs on the receiver’s back panel I had no idea where to reinsert the cord.  When I confronted the LOL she stated, “That cord was never connected”.  Now I’m not Steve Jobs but I’m pretty sure Apple doesn’t send extra cords just to be placed neatly on top of equipment.  This, however, did reveal another trouble spot.  As I have written before dust is the enemy.  Seems that when dust inevitably gathers on the receiver knobs and/or dials it must be both immediately (daily if not hourly) and aggressively removed.  This of course results in the additional random pressing of the dozens of buttons on the receiver.

If you come over you unless you like silence you may want to bring headphones. Otherwise we can sit in the car and see if anything is playing on FM2.

KOKO

 

Tis The Season

During my move last year I came across several boxes of Christmas decorations and a Christmas tree stand.  Without both children and any holiday spirit I was happy to throw them in the trash.  ”That’s the end of that, crap,” I rejoiced.

Fast forward to three weeks ago when the LOL says, “I think we should get a Christmas tree?”  Why?  I conveniently reminded her about our decision last year.  She reminded me that when she wants my opinion she’ll ask.  Something she hasn’t done ever.

I am somewhat confused as to why cigarettes come with a warning label while Christmas tree stands are sold over the counter without restriction.  How about, “Warning:  use of this product will result in numerous unexpected financial expenses, the appearance of people you had hoped to never see again (in this life or the next), and three weeks of  being stressed out to the max.”   Seriously what takes more years off your life?  A couple of puffs or the annual stress of the holidays.

So up goes the $40 tree.  I suggested since it was just us we drag a pine branch from the forest and save the four saw bucks.  (See above regarding my input).  The next day I come home and it looked like Kris Kringle had set up a bachelor pad:  lights, stockings, mistletoe,  christmas candles.  By the way the candles cost twice as much as a cigar and last half as long.  Yankee Candle must use a more expensive kind of wax this time of year.

“Well since we had the tree, I decided we should have a party.”  Here we f-ing, go”.  So off to BJ’s.  Hey only going to cost time and money.  So now we are at BJ’s looking for the manager to discuss their unacceptable Christmas themed paper goods.  ”Look at that design, it’s crap.”  The red and green Poinsettia themed plates looked fine to me.  ”That’s why I never ask for your opinion because you don’t know sh^%t.”  I know I have been to thousands of parties and cookouts.  I can’t remember one paper plate I ate off or one plastic cup I drank from.  So increase the amount of time lost.  Which fortunately time is the only thing I have a lot of, but then again how can I be sure, right?

The other great thing about having a holiday party is you get to see people with whom you have absolutely no contact with the other 364 days a year.  (You don’t even creep them on Facebook).  Then you get to see them at Christmas be reminded why you are so close.  I mean some people I wouldn’t lend five bucks to and now I have to buy them booze at $50 a head?  They are not exactly thrilled to be here, either.  Let’s spend money and time traveling with a few million other unhappy souls during the time of the year when its pitch black 18 hours a day.  Definitely everyone’s idea of a good time.

So as the party approaches the LOL’s mood declines by the minute (which in general is tough to notice), I come home last night after a long week.  Let me tell you nothing is more relaxing then the sound of a vacuum bumping and scraping across the floor.   “The party is in five days and as usual you haven’t done a GD thing.”

Well I did buy the Christmas tree stand.

Merry Christmas (and the LOL says stop in if you’re around).

KOKO

 

Strange Feeling In The Air

“There’s a strange feeling in the air, Stealin’ minds without a care/There’s a strange feeling in the air/Telling me I must be scared” –  Ryan Bingham

How do you know when something isn’t true?  It’s reported in the media as absolute fact.  So all of this to do about the Mayans predicting the end of the world is hogwash.  The Mayans were pretty smart cookies,  MIT stood for Mayan Institute of Technology long before the college moved to the People’s Republic of Cambridge.

The Mayan calendar based on the numbers 13 and 20 (the two numbers with the most significance to the Mayans) has correctly predicted astrological events for centuries.  The calendar actually continues indefinitely.  December 21, 2012 simply marked the end of what is called a “long cycle” in the calendar.  As correctly predicted by the Mayans over 500 years ago on December 21, 2012, the sun and the center of the Milky Way would be in perfect alignment.  An event that only happens once every 26,000 years or so.  The Mayans believed that this alignment created a doorway between the spirit world and the material world.  On this particular date the Mayans believed that an evil spirit whose name I cannot spell much less pronounce would beset upon the earth.  His arrival would be foreshadowed by natural disasters followed by cataclysmic events.

Before we dismiss the Mayans as some tattooed, nose-boned, loincloth wearing, coca leaf smoking primates let’s take a look at recent events.  Super storm Sandy was the deadliest storm to strike the East Coast in decades.  This weekend record setting blizzards are hammering two thirds of the country.  In last weekends massacre twenty children were murdered; the total number of deaths 26 (2 x13).  Remember the two most significant Mayan numbers?  Mayans often sacrificed children in an attempt to appease their Gods.  The Mayan end of the world prophecy is not so funny anymore, right?  I suspect the worse is still to come.

Speaking of the massacre the NRA responded today.  As stated here previously there is plenty of blame to go around however the NRA is the most culpable.  It’s response: more guns in schools, shocking.

As we teeter on the fiscal cliff Congress in the ultimate F-You to voters recessed for Christmas vacation, unbelievable.  Finally, Senator Ketchup (D-Mass) was finally nominated Secretary of State.  Why does it feel like he was the last guy taken in a pick-up game?  Maybe because Obama tried floating every other option, first?  What do you think of when someone mentions Senator Ketchup?  Absolutely nothing.  The guy is an empty suit.  He stands for zero and has accomplished less.  Incompetence would be a major accomplishment for Ketchup.  Once it was clear that Pakistan’s military, a recognized terrorist organization, was harboring Osama Bin Laden , Ketchup was quick to support continued aid in the form of $1 billion.   Do you think the Mayan’s knew Ketchup was coming?

KOKO