T-Shirt Hell Shutting Down

I've been a fan of T-Shirt Hell for many years now and am sad to see they are closing their doors.

We're sorry to bring the news that T-Shirt Hell will be closing its doors on Tuesday, Feb 10, 2009. Everything is now on sale during our final days.

For a message from the creator of TSH, Sunshine Megatron, go here. To view our final new shirts, plus 14 shirts we are bringing back as a thank you to everyone (including some of the best of our old Worse Than Hell section), go here.

It's been a deliciously wicked ride. Devilspeed to all who supported us.

(Customer service on all orders will continue for 60 days beyond our close date.)

Visit. Purchase. Weep.

And, hey, my birthday's coming up. My fav?



(and the obligatory social marketing one as well)

XL on black ;)

T-Shirt Hell, you will be missed. Never forget. :'(

RatherGood.com - The Cure - LOLCats

OMFG

Haggard Going Down (Again)

The enchantment of dick-suckin' lips

It was almost two years ago that I batted around the Ted Haggard dirty homo meth story. Please note that Ted Haggard has opened himself up to the ridicule I ladle upon him because he is a hypocritical monster of a human being. When you're an evangelical megachurch pastor and shit grin your way to stardom by a doctrine of clean livin' and how homosexuals are going to hell and then trade drugs for gay sex and when you are caught try to shrug off culpability by saying you have a drug problem and hiding in rehab, you deserve a shitstorm of pain.

Well, it appears that our pastor cum persona non grata has another skeleton hiding in the closet with him. Looks like Haggard buggered a 20-year old male volunteer to the church. Say it ain't so, Ted.

Oh, he does. Kinda.

There was a little sumpin-sumpin going on, it came out at a low level or he knew it would come out, he met with his wife and the man to apologize for an in appropriate relationship and then the church paid the guy for moving expenses, counseling fees, and his college tuition. And Teddy bear says there was no physical contact.

Exactly. Because he was so fucking forthcoming last time. Clinton never inhaled and Haggard never swallowed. That's why there's egg on his face. Well, maybe it's not egg...

The only conclusion that can be drawn from these events, encounters, and bald-faced lies is that Ted Haggard doesn't truly, deep within his heart, believe one goddamned bit of the drivel he's been preaching for years. For if he did, he would act in such a way as one does when they have a conviction that one day they will have to answer to the God of the friggin universe for their transgressions.

Or maybe he's at peace with an eternity of hell for a little cock. Or a lot of cock - he's still young and there's a lot more tail (between the legs) to be had.

Why I Removed My Tongue Piercing

2001 - 2009

The other night, I just took it out.

Around eight years I held that stud in my mouth, originally put there by my wife. It was time.

I guess the main reason I removed my tongue piercing was that after all that time, it's inevitable - even if you're careful - that you're going to chip a tooth or two. I was working on my third. The reason I held onto it for so long is a different story.

As soon as I was eighteen I drove downtown to have my left nipple pierced. I may have almost passed out, but I was hooked. Soon after was my first tattoo. After I met my wife, she pierced my tongue, then my right nipple. Before we were married we each sat for almost 8 hours to get the same piece: I on my right upper arm and her on her back. I'm still aching for another tat.

About four years ago, I removed the nipple rings. My nipples were sensitive before and piercings added a level of sensitivity that was actually beyond comfortable or pleasurable. Turns out, after the removal, they're at the exact level of sensitivity I was hoping for with the piercings.

But the tongue.

The tongue I held onto. I mentioned in a recent post that I'm soon to turn 32, and I think my holding onto my tongue piercing was a holding onto something edgy, something youthful, not that I think having one's tongue pierced makes one edgy or young.

Some of the logic I was mulling through said that cunnilingus was why I was holding on to that archive of my life. Why do I have my tongue pierced? Wink wink.

I realized the other night, in one single moment, that the flash, the edge was not in my piercing, it was in me, my charm, my personality. My talent was not in the stud, but in the tantalizing undulations of my tongue. "So you can make me come that doesn't make you Jesus." No, but at maybe St. Peter. Would you like to see my St. Peter?

Basically, it was a question of Samson in reverse. Samson believed - didn't God tell him? - all his power was derived from the length of his hair. And when his hair was cut off, his power was gone.

I realized my power was not in my "hair" but in me.

Then again, I've been trimming my "hair" for many years. Makes the power look bigger, they say.

So goodbye tongue piercing. I will miss you only in the funny way my mouth feels in your absence. You may have helped flick the bean, but the muscle was all mine. And that talent remains.

OMG! Earthquakes in California?

Next month I'll be 32. As I would guess my hard-issue mind for scientific inquiry got rolling about the time I was 7, I've been listening to this shite for some 25 years now.

Large earthquakes have rumbled along a southern section of the San Andreas fault more frequently than previously believed, suggesting that Southern California could be overdue for a strong temblor on the notorious fault line, a new study has found.

Exactly. WTF? Since I was a kid I've seen them; every couple of years, someone comes out with another report saying "Ooh, those California tremors are likely signs of a Long Overdue Event." No shit. The San Andreas Fault is supposed to explode like a golf ball hit with an axe and blow LA into the Pacific. (Yes, I know that's not how plate tectonics works)

I guess it comes down to the idea of worry. Predictions are fine and a wonderful tool, but when it becomes a prediction and a "warning" over and over again it loses all scientific value and turns into panic generation.

CHANGE: Sorry. Ever start writing and have a vague idea of where you're going and then, suddenly, it goes away and you're left with a waning buzz in the back of your skull and a pile of words that has no future? Yeah, that just happened to me. Might have something to do with the trance-inducing "How to Disappear Completely" by Radiohead pouring from the stereo speakers.

Science Tattoos, Without Research

If you are planning on getting a tattoo, at the first inkling, you must be thinking about your artist. Who is going to put permanent ink into your skin? You should probably not run out to the first tattoo shop you find.

Maybe I'm biased because when Mrs. Shambles and I were planning our matching pieces, we dug in deep and found Marty Holcomb working out of Columbus, a brilliant artist who was only taking ink jobs by appointment (yes, I'll add a pic of the finished piece within 2 days - promise).

But when I caught this bit on Discover's website, my first thoughts were "Oh, no, you didn't."



Take the time. Check out Discover's Science Tattoo Emporium. And please, please realize that just because you have a brilliant idea doesn't mean the artist knows what you want or can execute it well.

The bigger the piece, the more research you need to do, the more portfolios you need to view, and know that there is never a better time to say "um, no" than when you see the mock-up of what they are planning. Walk away. Better a pissed-off artist than thousands to remove something you look at a week later and think "WTF?"

Which comes back to the demonstrated art bit. Never let any tattoo artist tell you "everyone I've ever inked has been happy." Of course they're happy, initially. They just let you put permanent ink into their skin. If they admitted to themselves that they were not happy, they would have to admit that they had made a grave mistake, and in the ever-looming interest of self-preservation, I would guess that 99.999% of people who get tattoos, no matter how horrendous, initially claim happiness with the work.

Boil it down, now: Research. If you're a scientist, research more. Find the name of an artist, an actual person. View many, many portfolios. Get a good representation of what will be on your skin. Then - and only then - commit.

Rinse and repeat times the speed of light.

Pickle Pringles

I was going to rant about a crappy experience I had today, but found in my searches that it had already had been done for me.

Check out this post on the Pringles Extreme Screamin’ Dill Pickle.

If you like pickles, if you like Pringles, it just plain sucks. Done. No more than that. I feel so betrayed. I need to take a shower.

UPDATE: No, after a shower, the tennis ball tube in my pantry still haunts me. $2? WTF? I don't even think the pigeons would eat it. I don't even think I have pigeons!

Ah, painful pickle spice, three Pringles down, what to do with the leftover pain?

Darth Vader's Tray

Animation of Eddie Izzard's routine.



Brilliant!

Non-Believers Are Americans Too

Americans who do not fit nicely into an accepted, organized religion box like "Hindu" or "Christian" have found it difficult to legitimize themselves in the eyes of those who live in those boxes. Atheism itself is looked upon as a defect or disease.

Yesterday we saw a change:

For we know that our patchwork heritage is a strength, not a weakness. We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus--and non-believers.

In once sentence, non-believers all over America got the kind of boost, a legitimate form of recognition from a world leader, that we were not expecting.

Granted, this fuel will feed the right wing "godless liberal" machine for a long time to come. I think it is a step in the right direction.

Brent's Inauguration Photo

My friend Brent who does not have a blog or a Twitter or a website woke his ass up super early and made it to the Capitol side of the Washington Monument. One more reference and he'll get his own blogger label.

This is the image he sent me.



The reason they're staring away from the Capitol Building is that you can't see anything from that far away and the closest Jumbotron was in that direction. He said, as you'd expect, that it was amazing.

Yes, I am jealous much.

Inauguration - Bestest So Far

Eh, we're at about 4:40 EST right now and I've been witness to over six hours of awesome, some by audio, some by television. And there's still more to go throughout the evening, balls and what-not. Olbermann at 8 should be good.

But I wanted to break in because plopping this down on a Tweet is just not enough.

History, pshaw! The best part of today was when the Bush chopper, Executive One, was circling over the National Mall, and Chris Matthews, the Constant Constitutional Tool, decided to pine poetic and went with "besides seeing so many teeth of happy people smiling today" and continued to speak of the minority makeup of the crowd, voicing amazement that no one seemed pissed or short-tempered that it was cold and everything was taking so long.

Yes, Chris, it's all teeth and eyes and watermelon in a sea of black like that, sippin' on some Courvoisier. And those people would, of course, treat world-history caliber news and being there for that event like they would a long line at an un-air-conditioned BMV. WTF?

Best Matthews gaffe evar.

A Wish and a Hope for Obama

Mall Madness

I look at those images, the Mall in D.C., not one patch of green visible in any direction, the smiling, excited faces, cheering and chanting, and my eyes well up. Partially because I'm excited too, and partially because I see these masses as I might see my own daughter, smitten with a new love.

And I just want to put my hand on his shoulder and say "You've already got our hearts. Please don't break them."

Can't wait for his speech. Because that Nazi Youth Pastor was a little over the top. Ooh, Aretha Franklin!

Dreams of War: A Nuke in Tehran

We were in Iran, in a green valley surrounded by mountains. It was daytime, but overcast. Hundreds of people, spread out, for miles the valley was before us. Everyone was cheering as planes flew overhead, back and forth. In the distance, you could hear gunfire, bombs being dropped.

I was running through the grass, recognizing some of the people, people from high school, and every person I recognized loved war, lauded the first Gulf War, some had even gone on to the military. And they were all cheering. And hugging. And smacking each other on the back as the planes buzzed us in the valley.

And I was cheering too. I was excited, jumping, running, hugging. And as I smacked the back of one of my other jovial celebrants, I asked "so who's delivering the nuke?"

"US Army," he replied.

Then, suddenly an overhead view of a map and a missile falling straight for Tehran.

My alarm clock woke me at 4:10am with that entire scene to run over and over again in my head. I don't believe I've ever had a dream that could be called a premonition, but when they're as vivid and memorable as that one was, it rattles you.

I knew politically we would never drop a nuke on Tehran. But Israel would. And our involvement with Israel is so tight, who's to say we wouldn't deliver it and allow Israel to take credit?

Sorry. Overthinking. Hell of a thing to wake up to on inauguration day, huh?

Dear God - XTC

I just heard Sara McLachlan cover of XTC's "Dear God" and thought you might like a taste of the original. I haven't heard it in a few years and it still gives me chills as shuddering as when I first heard it.

No Pants Subway Ride 2009

Improv Everywhere is brilliant. Always.



Now if we could just get something like this together in Cincinnati.

Bruce Wilson - First Homophobe, then...Hitler?

I stayed out of the conversation when it first began about Bruce Wilson - and his ideas about turning gay people straight - being the voice of the opening prayer before the Presidential Inauguration. I vehemently disagree with the man on both a scientific and ideological basis on that topic, but ban him from the inauguration? Jesus himself reached out to misguided fools, why not Obama (hold the bus, Gus: I'm not saying Obama is Jesus or even holy)?

[I'm pretty curious where the outrage is over there being a prayer at all. What does God and Jesus have to do with the political process of swearing in a President? Why does the swearing in happen on a Bible? Tradition? Slavery was a tradition but Barack won't be shackled. Why not swear on your own heart?]

But now, in my opinion, Bruce Wilson has pushed the line of what I would consider questionable, misguided belief and turned it all the way around to negligible, hateful ignorance. He says that if American Christians could be as dedicated to God as the Hitler Youth were dedicated to Hitler that - wait, what? Really? Holy shit.

But don't take my word for it. Huff's got the video:



This is were we bring out the Bo Peep crook and pull that bastard off the stage. Now.

The Weather Outside, It's Frightful

It is pretty dang cold here in Cincinnati. My Weather Channel widget says 12 F, and wind chill is about -3 F.

Note to all news media:

I understand that things are a little dry news-wise until Obama's start next week, with about 1000 dead in Gaza and us still sending Americans to die in Iraq and Afghanistan, but please keep in mind that during Winter months it gets fucking cold. Surprise! It's mid January and it's fucking freezing. Shit! Just like last year and the year before that and, well, as far back as I can remember. Why? It's winter! And it won't go away until March - or May if you live in Cleveland.

So take the icicle out of your puckered asshole, take a breath, and stop making everyone so batshit crazy over something that's normal.

And don't even get me started on the OMG-it's-cold anti global warming asshats. Yeah, Drudge, I'm talkin' to you.

Flavors of Nigeria, Direct Response Email

Once, a while back, I tried to have some public fun with spam scams. Unfortunately, it was a fail as I was apparently too boisterously excited about getting more information and did not get a response back. The mouse did not keep moving so I could whack it again.

Since I don't have the time or energy to craft a response letter that is invigorated by the prospect of free money yet not too over-the-top, I've been going with a different tack.

Today I got this email:

Sir,

I am Dr. Garrett Kenneth, a member of independent committee of eminent person {icep} and I wish to notify you that You can be listed as Heir to the total sum of (Twelve million six hundred thousaund United states dollars) in the codicil and last testament of the deceased. I contacted you because you bear the surname identity and therefore can present you as the Heir to the inheritance funds.

I therefore reckoned that you could receive these funds as you are qualified by your name identity. All the legal papers will be processed in your acceptance. In your acceptance of this deal, we request that you kindly forward to me your letter of acceptance; your current telephone and fax numbers and a forwarding address to enable me file necessary documents at our high court probate division for the release of this sum of money.

Please indicate your interest immediately for us to proceed. I shall feed you with full details of this transaction and my particulars upon receipt of your reply towards this proposal.


I look forward to hearing from you.

Yours Faithfully,
Dr. Garrett Kenneth.

What a douche. "independent committee of eminent person {icep}"? Seriously? It shows me "Dr. Garrett Kenneth (kenneth@telefonica.net)" for the email, but reply-to is set at "drkennethgarrett@rediffmail.com" (feel free to spam the bastard), and rediffmail.com is an India email website.

Anyway, my past replies to these emails (Yes, I reply to every one) have been very simple and focused and along the lines of "May the pain you inflict be visited upon you tenfold." If nothing else, I'm looking at curse psychology and the quite suffering of someone with a conscience.

Today I was feeling a little randy and replied with:

I hope you are gang-raped by a pack of wild, syphilitic hyenas and slowly eaten alive when they are done.

And I think I've already put together my next one:

As Jesus once said: Go fuck yourself until you bleed to death.

Thoughts?

Sorry for the Gap

I've been working non-stop on my business over the last few days, redesigning the site, extending myself on social networks, and extending those social networks the way the need to be extended.

Which is why I've been a bit absent.

Not that that's a good excuse for you, my fair reader, but perhaps a reasonable explanation.

And for that, your patience, you get my man purse, also known as a "murse:"



Yeah, you love it.

Okay, maybe not that great. How about my fav?



Now that's love.

Jones' Big Ass Truck Rental & Storage

I was hoping so badly that this was real. Even the website is well done - by that I mean appropriate - for what it's supposed to be.

Alas, the site is hosted by Big Dog Eat Child, a sketch comedy troupe.

Keep it real Jones. Keep it real.