Archive for the ‘Casual snark’ Category

Huevos del Rancho Pendejo

October 7, 2018

This egg cooker is seven years younger than I am.
And unlike me, it still works.

With the Supreme Court slamming the Wayback Machine into overdrive, hellbent for the good ol’ Dred Scott days, it seemed appropriate to fiddle with some obsolete technology here at El Rancho Pendejo.

So yesterday I gave my G4 AGP Graphics “Sawtooth” Power Mac (1999) a brand-new LG monitor. The Mac has a DVI-I port, the monitor has an HDMI port, I had a DVI-D-to-HDMI cable, and somehow it all works, smoove like butta; go figure.

Afterward I broke out the Bloo Wazoo (1980s-vintage 7-speed, single-ring 105) for an enjoyable hour of trail riding.

And today we test-drove a vintage Sunbeam automatic egg cooker (1961) that Herself unearthed at an estate sale. We were a little light on water the first time around but the second go was spot on.

When that cooker was brand-spankin’-new, Ruth Bader Ginsburg was a 28-year-old research assistant with the Columbia Law School Project on International Procedure, having been rejected for a clerkship with Supreme Court Justice Felix Frankfurter on the basis of her gender.

I wonder how she feels about seeing that rear-view mirror turn into a windshield. Probably feels like boiling somebody’s huevos, is my guess.

iHump

October 2, 2018

To drain the swamp, one must become the swamp. Or something like that.

Just think: If Lil’ Donny Trump had gone into RoboHoes® instead of real estate, he might not have needed all his daddy’s cash plus an atomic shit-ton of fraud, tax dodges and Christ knows what all to crank up his little used-car-salesman-does-Vegas act.

A stable of Trump Humps™ might have saved him a few porn-star payoffs and a couple divorce settlements, too. Make Junior mop up afterward. That’s money in the bank right there.

O, Canada

October 2, 2018

Houston, we have a problem: Robot brothels.

From our You Can’t Make This Shit Up Department comes this sordid tale of e-hoes (iHoes?) in a town that’s up to its tits in the old-school flesh-and-blood models.

At the root of the problem is Kinky S Dolls, a Canadian outfit that claims to be the first AI sex-doll outfit to offer test drives. Seems our horny neighbor to the north wants to bend Houston over for its initial thrust into the U.S. market.

Hold your whoreses, say local Christians, coppers and politicos.

“This is not the kind of business I would like to see in Houston, and certainly this is not the kind of business the city is seeking to attract,” says Mayor Sylvester Turner.

And the not-for-profit group Elijah Rising has begun a “Keep Robot Brothels Out of Houston” online petition “that as of Monday had more than 12,600 signatures.” according to The Guardian.

But this is Texas, goddamnit, and at least one columnist says the goldurned gummint has no bi’ness telling a fella what to do with his tallywhacker and his android love muffin (the pearl-necklace metaphor seems particularly apt in this instance).

Anyway, just think of the jobs! No, not that kind of job, the other sort, which come to think about it is not that different from the kind you’re thinking of, especially if you’re the one who has to clean up the rent-a-robot between clients. It’s enough to give a fella the blues.

Hit it, Steve:

And they say Texas weather’s always changin’
And one thing change’ll bring is somethin’ new
And Houston really ain’t that bad a town
So you hang around with the Fort Worth blues

Spider, man

October 1, 2018

While riding through the north ’burbs toward the Tramway yesterday I saw a tarantula on the prowl, looking to do the nasty.

I considered stopping to snap a pic, but since he wasn’t a truculent tosspot flashing prep-school gang signs en route to a seat on the Supreme Court, it seemed unnecessary to subject him to the harsh glare of the media spotlight.

Fred neither pedaled nor peddled

September 29, 2018

Some pixel pusher doesn’t have his shit Wired tight.

I know, I know, sometimes it seems as though the bike biz is more about peddling than pedaling, but still, Wired, Jesus H., etc.

Executive time

September 6, 2018

The chair recognizes His Excellency, Field Marshal Turkish von Turkenstein (commander, 1st Feline Home Defense Regiment). Oy, does it ever.

Oh, sure, you can impeach him, maybe even convict.

But you’re gonna need the Army to get him out of that chair. Maybe the Marines, too.

Another beautiful bus lane

May 30, 2018

The Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers never went electric, but they sure as shit knew their buses. Freak Bros. © forever by Gilbert Shelton

Mired in what could only be termed a Central Avenue clusterfuck as I took the scenic route home from the airport this afternoon, gazing longingly at the bus lanes unoccupied by electric buses, or anything else, and at one point being passed by a kid nonchalantly kicking a skateboard, I found my spirits lifted considerably when KUNM-FM played “Bike Lane” by Stephen Malkmus & the Jicks.

Naturally, the lyrics rearranged themselves in my head thusly: “Another beautiful bus lane … another beautiful bus lane. …”

Hot time in the old town

May 30, 2018

New Mexico must have a patent on these cloud formations. And if it doesn’t, it should.

Looks like the inaugural Ruta del Rancho Pendejo will be a warm one, with highs in the 90s and 80s, though there’s a chance of afternoon showers on Sunday.

The very latest in fluid acquisition and retention technology.

This last we will believe when we see it.

Never fear, however. Your Humble Narrator, with an assist from Adventure Cyclist editor-in-chief Alex Strickland, has acquired a number of advanced hydration-delivery devices for distribution to all participants.

We regret to announce, however, that Roseanne Barr will not be joining us for the weekend’s activities. She’s apparently decided to take a fresh direction. Some sort of gravity deal.

And it seems to be quite the show. I haven’t seen anyone go downhill that fast since Missy Giove was shredding the gnar.

A winner

March 3, 2018

I got your kiss right here, Dopey.

No podium girls? What about podium puppies? Everybody loves puppies.

Hey, maybe they could double as drug-sniffing dogs. As long as we’re making changes, I figure the Sky’s the limit.

No Hope

March 1, 2018

Tickling those … ivories. Wait, what did you think I was gonna say?

Man, they just can’t keep a piano player in this whorehouse, can they?

Doesn’t seem to have hurt business, though. And maybe Jared can try singing whenever he’s not serving up that old-fashioned love. Give those rug burns a chance to heal, son.