Rambling Rhodes

The Almighty Bundle

Last week, we were having connectivity problems with our high speed Internet, and our upper tier cable stations were all out. I won't divulge who our cable and high speed provider is, except to say they rhyme with Barter Glomunications.

When I called Barter to explain my situation, I was assisted by a non-native tech representative who didn't particularly represent tech very well. She was, in fact, a moron. However, she was a moron who managed to set up a time for a technician to come out to the house to check on things.

As the call was wrapping up, she went into a sales pitch. You see, Barter is all about the bundle: you can bundle high speed Internet, cable and VoIP telephone service and SAVE BIG!

I calmly explained that I didn't need a phone service because I have a cell phone. She countered that their VoIP service offers unlimited long distance, to which I responded "so does my cell service, and it's very portable." Without missing a beat, she pointed out adding VoIP service to my bundle would only cost me an additional $14 a month, to which I had to less calmly point out that would be and additional $14 a month for a phone I don't need because, I HAVE A CELL PHONE.

Honest to Vishnu, she sounded genuinely perplexed about my reasoning for not wanting the wonderful VoIP phone bundle. She actually sounded upset with me, as if I was "THIS CLOSE" to understanding how awesome the bundle was and if she could just reason with me a little longer, I see the light.

Finally, I explained the matter thusly: "Miss, I'm standing here, in my house, talking to you on my cell phone. It's a phone I can take and use anywhere, at a price that's only a few dollars more a month than what you're offering. Why in the world would I want ANOTHER phone that's tied down to this house and that I'd never conceivably use because I have my cell phone handy at all times?"

"Yes, but it's a bundle, and. . ."

*CLICK*

Ah, The New Media

'Why I Gave Up Public Sex at the MSP Airport'

That's the kind of quality journalism we've come to expect from Minnesota Monitor. Cronkite wept.

I Don't Have Game

Well, it turns out my computer is too old and outdated to run Medal of Honor: Airborne. It had a good run, and will be four years old come January. It's still a good machine, even by today's standards and, to be fair, it was ALMOST able to run the new game; it gave it a good old, college "try," followed by a good, old college FAIL.

I'm not sure when I'll be able to get around to buying a new one, what with having bought The Girl her ring last week. computers and rings -- that pretty much sums up life, doesn't it?

Bukkake Football

Caroline says: A headline on cnn.com: "Cheerleader creamed by players at game"

Caroline says: Football cream!

Ryan says: That just conjured all sorts of shaky H images.

Caroline says: Right on.

Ryan says: The players were much more relaxed and focused afterwards.

Ryan says: That cheerleader just took one (several, really) for the team.

Caroline says: Talk about ice packs.

Ryan says: Sometimes I think we're the most disgusting people at work, and I'm thankful for that.

Caroline says: Hallmark card
Front: Sometimes I think we're the most disgusting people at work ...
Inside: ... and I'm thankful for that.

I've Got Game

So, I'm buying MEDAL OF HONOR: AIRBORNE, tonight.

Thing is, I typically play computer games at night, and first person shooters can be murder on the nerves, particularly before bed time. So, before buying a FPS game, I typically try to make sure there are cheats available in case I encounter particularly difficult areas that would otherwise have me yelling at my computer screen in impotent rage.

People ask me: "What's the point of playing a game if you're cheating?"

To them, I respond: "You'd have to experience killing a Nazi up close knowing there's no chance you'll die to adequately understand."

It's a very. . . relaxing. . . feeling.

Heroes

Ryan says: Does "Guitar Hero" actually teach you how to play guitar?

Caroline says: I have no idea.

Ryan says: I guess that's like asking if "Medal of Honor" teaches you how to win WWII.

Caroline says: That would be cool.

Ryan says: My reasoning is, if "Guitar Hero" could teach me to play guitar, I'd be foolish not to buy it.

Caroline says: Could you return it if you didn't end up being an actual hero? Like, you're not buying something called "Moderately Adequate Guitar Player"

Ryan says: Amateur Guitar enthusiast (AGE).

Ryan says: We should come out with "Guitar Novice."

Ryan says: The first edition would be a game just dealing with properly holding a guitar.

Caroline says: Or introducing the guitar to the player.

Ryan says: Ooh, ooh, "Guitar Zero: Starting From Scratch!"

Caroline says: Guitar Newbie

Ryan says: "Guitar Nero: Burning Down The House."

Caroline says: hey ooooooooh!

Ryan says: Learn to play guitar while Rome burns.

Caroline says: Rome wasn't burnt in a day

Evolution of Spam

Judging by my Hotmail junk folder, two of the latest iterations of Spam mail fall under the following categories:

"British National Lottery Winner!"

And

"IRS Tax Refund"

Apparently, I won 850,000 pounds in a U.K. lottery, and the IRS owes me $192. If you need me, I'll be retired.

A Serious Case of the "Mehs"

I don't know what it is about this time of the year, but it just makes me look at my ThunderJournal and think "I got nothin'." And the thing is, I'm pretty indifferent to having nothin'. I wonder if this is the case for other ThunderJournalists who have been at this craft for years and can recognize such cycles in their own creative processes.

I've also noted a general decline in ThunderJournal readership this time of year, with an uptick beginning again come December. I think writers and readers alike just kind of push away from the table for awhile, too full to eat another bite, and sit back to digest and take a nap.

Point is, I don't have much to say right now, and I don't particularly care; but I'll be back in prolific form at some point--the cycle dictates as much.

In Lieu of Actual blogging

I direct your attention to POWERTHIRST 1:

And POWERTHIRST 2:

Life's Little Lessons

I recently learned, via my Brazillian Jiu-Jitsu classes, that one of the most difficult and painful exercises ever devised is something call "DUCK WALKING."

Honestly, my legs are on fire today.

Phenomenon

I'm not a person particularly prone to nocturnal astronomical gazing, but on Saturday evening, at around 8:40 p.m., I happened to be outside adjusting the blinking Halloween "eyes" on a shrubbery near the entrance to my house, when I looked up and saw something completely amazing.

Just below the constellation Cassiopeia, I saw two incredibly bright stars. I mean, they were the brightest stars in the sky, no doubt. At first, I mistook them as stars in Orion's belt, before I saw Cassiopeia just above and realized Orion's nowhere near Cassiopeia. Just as I was processing the realization of what I was witnessing, the two stars just faded away and basically disappeared.

As far as I could tell, the two stars were pretty much stationary, so they likely weren't sattelites, so I briefly entertained the thought I had witnessed an entirely unlikely duo supernova.

Whatever it was, it was unbelievably cool.

It's About the Issues

Poll: Bullshit Is Most Important Issue For 2008 Voters

Water? Or something else. . .

Okay, you can CALL IT WATER IF YOU WANT:

TORONTO — Canadian researchers have discovered that a white, salty substance churned up by the Mars Spirit rover is the first "on-the-spot" evidence of water just beneath the surface of the Red Planet.

Or, maybe Mars just gets really churned on by rovers. . .

Huh? Huh?

Oh, come on, that's comedy gold right there.

My Larry Craig Commentary

At the risk of being all political and, therefore, controversial, I thought I'd weigh in on the ongoing drama that is the Larry Craig affair, a topic that has much of the national media swirling with gossip.

Larry Craig--who plunged into the political scene back in 1981 and currently serves on a throne as a Republican senator representing the state of Idaho--was arrested back in June for lewd conduct in a Minneapolis airport bathroom. The ensuing scandal has left an unpleasant skidmark on an otherwise unblemished political career.

Come August, Craig instead pleaded guilty to a lesser, number two, charge of disorderly conduct, hoping to wipe the matter clean entirely. Unfortunately for the senator, the public grunted loud disapproval of his actions, prompting Craig to announce his intention to resign from the Senate on September 30.

Instead, he stalled. Which is what Craig apparently does quite well. Stalling comes quite naturally to him. Nothing gives him more pleasure than a good stall tactic. He'll squat in a stall until he gets what he wants, no matter how long it takes. He was no doubt hoping this would all blow over. He's quite obviously unwilling to give up his seat.

The national media, of course, has been impatiently tapping their feet since the September 30 deadline came and went, and their stance has widened noticeably in outrage over Craig's stall maneuver. They've been dogged in their pursuit of Craig's paper trail.

Amidst this increased media scrutiny, Craig has hunkered down further, giving every signal he's interested in exploring options that benefit only himself, and maybe one or two other people.

Craig has attempted a variety of tactic to distance himself from the scandal, some of which have been sinkers, while others have floated hopefully with public opinion. The photo-op of the senator dropping the kids off at the pool polled particularly well.

In my opinion, the senator simply won't be able to flush this scandal out of the spotlight. His bathroom antics have lifted the lid on his secretive personal behavior, exposing himself as a hypocrite with a hopelessly soiled reputation.

Dichotomy

So, Monday MSNBC.com had THIS ARTICLE UP:

Job perks galore for twentysomethings

Employers scramble to hire Gen Y talent as baby boomers head out door

Which, okay, I can understand that. Baby boomers out, Gen Y in. Makes sense. Gotcha.

But, then it was followed yesterday BY THIS:

Narcissists in Neverland

Gen-Yers say they are willing to make financial sacrifices to make the world a better place. But how long can they really expect to work less, volunteer more--and count on their aging parents to push back retirement?

Note to employers: I'm a Gen Xer, but I just missed out on Gen Y by about five years. And I'm more than willing to take any high paying job passed up by a dipshit Gen Yer.

Just so you know.

Euphemism Alert!

Caroline says: can you see my smirk?

Ryan says: Yeah, you should really zip your pants.

Caroline says: WOW

Ryan says: That's a really crotchety smirk.

Caroline says: That's so ... bad.

Ryan says: Can you hear me laughing?

Context is Everything

Without providing any background detail, I thought I'd mention Mitch Berg WROTE THE FOLLOWING:

“asshole” in particular brings back warm and fuzzy childhood memories

Carcass Talk

Ryan says: Oh, hey, we went to the new Target store yesterday. I saw a Halloween decoration you HAVE to buy.

THUNDERJOURNALIST'S NOTE: Caroline's husband's name is Marc.

Caroline says: REALLY

Ryan says: I shit you not: "Marcus the Carcass."

Caroline says: OMG

Caroline says: WANT

Caroline says: He's such a carc-ass, too, so that's perfect.

Ryan says: I just stood in the aisle and laughed.

Caroline says: wow

Ryan says: It's basically this light up body meant to look like it's coming out of the ground.

Ryan says: Not sure if that parallels Marc in any way.

Caroline says: Found it. http://www.target.com/Marcus-Carcus-Lighted-Halloween-Decoration/dp/B000QCK3WW/sr=1-2/qid=1192469968/ref=sr_1_2/602-2340595-1536661?ie=UTF8&index=target&rh=k%3AMarcus&page=1

Ryan says: $13 worth of awesome.

Caroline says: Totally

Caroline says: It's out of stock!

Ryan says: You think they realize they spelled "Carcass" wrong?

Caroline says: They need an editor.

Ryan says: It's in stock over at Rochester 2.0.

Caroline says: woot!

About Time

After first breaking ground probably sometime in June, and after seven truckloads of dirt shoveled and deposited in various locations, I finally, FINALLY, had the driveway extension poured over the weekend, during an awesome Saturday that featured weather absolutely perfect for pouring concrete. I framed up and leveled off the ground for the pour over the last two weeks, and my Dad came up to help me with the pour Saturday morning. It's gratifying to know I still have the concrete pouring knowledge that has been dormant for over ten years.

Ah, progress

Back in 1998, I'd have to wait several minutes of download time to watch a five-second clip of a guy throwing up beer through his nose.

Now, a mere nine years later, I can watch a one minute clip of a guy failing to launch a bottlerocket from his ass almost instantaneously.

It's like watching technology progess 8 million times faster than human common sense, and I'm just grateful and humble to be living in this most excellent period of time.

So Bizarre, It's Awesome

My Exclusive Interview With Global Warming

Following my unprecendented interview with Hurricane Katrina back in 2005, and my interview with Mel Gibson last year, I have once again, through the extensive journalistic resources made available to this ThunderJournal, hooked an exclusive interview with one of today's biggest buzz generators: Global Warming.

ME: Let me just take a moment to express how grateful I am to you for permitting this interview, Mr. Warming.

GW: It's MS. Warming. . .

ME: Oh, I'm so embarrassed.

GW: Don't be. It happens. Just call me Global. Or, the Notorious G.W.B.

ME: I'm sorry?

GW: Global Warming Bitch.

ME: I see. Now, I must say, you've been making a lot of headlines lately. You're not quite up there with Britney Spears, but you're getting there. How do you respond to such an increase in notoriety?

GW: I generally try to keep a low profile; just doing the weather and climate thing like I've always done. But, it's tough avoiding the paparazzi, who are always following me around, trying to make me into a bigger deal than I am. Particularly that one guy. . . what's his name? Al Gore. He's the worst.

ME: How so?

GW: Oh, he's always going around, spreading rumors about me, taking me out of context, picking on me for my bad points while completely ignoring me when I'm responsible for something good.

ME: Such as?

GW: Gee, I don't know. . . how about HUMAN DOMINATION OF THE PLANET? I mean, seriously, here I go and decide to roll back some glaciers, provide some primo growing conditions and arable soil, allowing you ungrateful bi-peds to claim dominion upon the earth, and now all of a sudden I'M THE PROBLEM.

ME: To be fair, I think it's more along the lines of humans thinking WE'RE the problem.

GW: Yeah, well, that's because ya'll are stupid and think you're far more important than you are.

ME: We're pretty amazing creatures, you have to admit.

GW: Yada, yada, yada. You should have been around for the trilobites. Now there were creatures that knew a thing or two about longevity and total planetary domination. You people have been around, what? Three million years? Five million? Tell you what, look me up after your 350 millionth birthday. Then I'll let you sit at the trilobite table. You might have the big brains and all, but the trilobites were all about endearing personality.

ME: Well, you have us concerned you won't let us see our 350 millionth birthday. In fact, people are talking about major climate change in 100 years or less and. . .

GW: You think you know me? You think you know me, don't you? You don't know me. You can't even pretend to think you know me. You can't even think about thinking you think you know me. You can't begin to ponder thinking about considering to think about thinking you think you can possibly think about thinking. . .

ME: I think I see what you're. . .

GW: You can't even postulate thinking about pondering to think about thinking you see what you think you're thinking about thinking. . .

ME: Yes, well, you have to admit, you are getting warmer.

GW: That's kind of what I do. You can't have Global Warming without. . . Warming.

ME: You're kind of sarcastic for a planetary climatological process.

GW: Well, you get that way when you have Al Gore following you around everywhere.

ME: Wait, doesn't the temperature always tend to drop to unseasonal levels wherever Al Gore goes to speak?

GW: Hey, he messes with me, so I'm allowed to mess with him. Paparazzi like him deserve all the bad luck in the world.

ME: So, what are your plans going forward?

GW: To warm up, of course. Unless I get married to that Cooling fellow I've had my eye on for awhile and decide to take his name.

ME: Can we do anything to help fan the flames of that romance?

GW: HAH! You wish! Ms. Warming makes a move when Ms. Warming is damned good and ready. I'm not as open to suggestion as that Spears trollop is.

ME: All right, but could you maybe not wipe out the polar bears?

GW: Great gobs of greasy, grimey gopher guts! What is it about you people and polar bears? Always it's about the polar bears! Again, no mad props to the Notorious G.W.B. for providing top notch living conditions for humans. Oh, no, it's always those poor polar bears and wah, wah, wahhhhh! You're all a bunch of ungrateful Gores, the lot of you.

ME: Well, that's about all the time we have. Thank you, again, Global Warming, for taking the time to speak with me today.

GW: My pleasure. Perhaps we can do it again someday.

. . .

. . .

AL GORE: You haven't seen Global Warming, by any chance?

ME: She just left.

Book Deal

Caroline says: Just sent you FoS article info.

Ryan says: Domo arigator, Mrs. Roboto.

Ryan says: No "r."

Caroline says: Arigator is a cousin of the alligator

Ryan says: A very thankful alligator.

Caroline says: Now you have the name of that children's book you always wanted to write!

Ryan says: "Domo Arigator And The Chamber of Secrets."

Caroline says: You'd make millions.

Ryan says: "Domo Arigator And The Reptile of Gratitude."

Caroline says: He could have a sidekick named "Merci the Mouse"

Math I Understand

Ryan says: BTW: STUDY LINKS hip size and breast cancer risk.

Caroline says: Thanks.

Ryan says: Just a guess, but I'm betting "bigger hips" = "bigger breasts" = increased cancer risk.

Caroline says: I hate math.

Ryan says: That's the "mammatic equation."

Caroline says: E=M C cup

Ryan says: Huh, they're talking about the female CHILDREN of women with big hips having a higher risk of cancer.

Caroline says: Error in the equation!

Ryan says: Well, doesn't that seem like an incredibly niche area of study?

Caroline says: Pelvical

Ryan says: Some doctor with a grudge against fatties decides to apply for a research grant.

Caroline says: Live! On stage 3!

Caroline says: Grudge Against Fatties!

Ryan says: Fatty grudge is impossible to remove from dishes.

Caroline says: How do they even define "big hips"

Ryan says: That's a most excellent question.

Ryan says: They looked at Kate Moss, noticed she doesn't have cancer, and decided anyone with bigger hips than her are a bigger cancer risk.

Caroline says: Well, why stop there? Did they notice the coke around her nose? They should say small-hipped women who are regular drug users don't get cancer.

Ryan says: We could have been doctors.

Caroline says: We really missed the boat.

Ryan says: They teach medicine on a boat?

Caroline says: In the Phillipines.

When Fake Guns Are Outlawed, Only Outlaws Will Have Fake Guns

Honest to God, it's THINGS LIKE THIS that convince me local legislators, and legislators in general, exist entirely without ever using their brains.

I think the right to carry fake guns should be backed by a powerful lobbying group, like NNRRA (National Not Real Rifle Association) or something like that.

Tough Day

Everything was going along so well today, and then one of the longest-winded, fillibuster Internet commenters in Web history went and wrote I'm not WORTH BEANS AS A PERSON (CLEARLY).

The commenter then went on to further note: he consistently makes comments that are nothing short of childish and usually scatalogical..

Well, YEAH! He says it like it's a bad thing or something, rather than the badge of pride I wear it as.

I don't know if I can get through the rest of the day, frankly. *sniffle*

Trauma Drama

Ryan says: Not to be all uber-editor or anything, but this line was in a P-B article: "She suffered multiple injuries, including a severe traumatic brain injury."

Caroline says: must've been bad

Ryan says: "Traumatic brain injury" not enough?

Caroline says: "The moron suffered severe traumatic hole burn after putting a bottle rocket in his ass."

Ryan says: Because, if I suffered minor traumatic brain injury, chances are I'd still be pretty focused on the traumatic part.

Caroline says: traumatic-esque

A Slightly Revamped Nick Coleman Column

I thought I'd take a different approach to my usual Nick Coleman bashing with his COLUMN TODAY. Rather than tearing it apart, paragraph by paragraph, I thought I'd re-write it a bit.

Nick Coleman: 'A Columnist That's Never Been Relevant' is a sad joke 3 decades later

In 1973, I imagined myself on the cover of TIME magazine, showing off a northern pike above the words "The Good Writer in Minnesota." The story's headline as I imagined it would have been, "A Columnist That Works."

Today, that headline would stink as much as the fish, but not as much as my writing and logic, the stench of which could melt iron.

Next September, I'll be trying to hoist myself into the spotlight again, for the Republican National Convention, at which time I'll write several meandering, pointlessly outraged diatribes about God knows what, and I'll be able to expect the Star-Tribune to dutifully print my mind farts with little or no editing. If my writing remains true to "sky is falling" form, the headlines may be about "A newspaper That Is Falling Down."

My writing, and this newspaper, are in a state of disgrace.

The Star-Tribune is in free fall, failing to perform some of journalism's most basic duties and failing the citizens who pay for, and expect, news and information that's well-written, well-edited, objective and politically neutral.

We have too little of that.

Instead, we have a nimrod like me writing under the auspices of a "metro columnist," but who, incredibly, still has his job year after year after year despite writing drivel spanning the globe that has precious little to do with "metro" anything. Seriously, I can get away with ANYTHING and expect it to run.

My name is Mr. Nick Coleman, and the only reason why my boss, the Star-Tribune, hasn't replaced me with a professional and sent me on an urgent unemployment tour of the "Failed Writers Compound" in Hennepin County is that my brother is the mayor of St. Paul, my father is a former state senator and my wife has some pull in the local newspaper biz; that, and I'm older than the hills and refuse to recognize my own irrelevance. The Star-Tribune thinks my weak political connections will hopefully pay off somehow, which is laughable, but cute, so I'll be able to write here for as long as I suck air from those more worthy.

They won't send me packing, even though it may very well go a long way towards saving the newspaper.

Already worth over half a billion dollars less than it was worth just a decade ago, the Star-Tribune continues to employ me for reasons beyond most normal readers' understanding. Personally, I suspect it's because my cranky, flawed, borderline-libelous writing tends to get a reaction out of people that the newspaper figures makes money somehow. I don't know about that; I'm just happy to have a megaphone without oversight.

If I had a good track record, it might be worth the risk. But my tracks end at men's room (I never could lay claim to adequate bowel control). Let's take a look at a brief list of Star-Tribune troubles:

• In December of 2006, the newspaper was sold for $530 million, down from $1.2 billion when it was sold in 1998.

• Since that time, the paper has flailed around trying to remain relevant somehow, determined to act as a national and international player on the mass media chess board, without realizing it was a low value pawn the whole time.

• While I've spent the better part of the last few years railing against bloggers, about the most entertaining aspect of the Star-Tribune right now is a blog, BUZZ.MN.

• Those frickin' assholes at http://ramblingrhodes.mu.nu and http://koolaidreport.blogspot.com just won't leave me the hell alone!

What does it mean to you? Here's one example of how the rubber hits the anus:

Over the years, I've gotten away with outright lying to you, my column readers, without ever having to issue a retractment, or even apologize. Like, for example, that one time, when I wrote a lengthy piece about how President Bush flipped off the press corps? Didn't happen. It was a thumbs' up filmed at an odd angle.

And that's just one example. I've pulled that kind of shit countless times. I've repeatedly abused my position as the Star-Tribune's "metro columnist." Like, I'm talking REGULARLY. And, here's the kicker: I get PAID to do it. I won't float any numbers around, but let's just say you'd be utterly shocked if I told you how much I make. Granted, given the abyssmal quality of my writing, a dollar a year would be too much. Of course, I have such a raging ego, I'd gladly take the opportunity to write my columns for free. Hell, I'd pay the newspaper if I were allowed to continue to poorly pen outright lies. You can't put a dollar amount on that kind of power.

The bottom line is that the Star-Tribune and it's editorial board are complete and utter fools, manning a ship that has long since beached itself on the rocky shores of Minnesota DFL idealogy and talking points. And while most everyone with a functioning brain recognize the shipwreck for what it is, those of us at the Star-Tribune are aloft in the crow's nest, confident the horizon is within our grasp. I'll stop now, since, as is typical for me, I've taken an analogy well beyond its lifespan.

I'll just go back to talking about the bridge collapse, a topic that I positively can't let go of. I mean, seriously, I dream about the bridge collapse at night. I've even started masturbating to it.

That leaves us two questions for the newspaper that doesn't work: 1) What was I writing about again? And, 2) Why am I still here?

FYI

Even though Minnesota is now under a statewide smoking ban in businesses, I just want ya'll to know it's perfectly okay for you to smoke here at my ThunderJournal. Feel free to kick up your feet and smoke freely. Cigarettes, cigars, pipes, even hookas are encouraged. So, light up, my ThunderJournal readers!

Not that I endorse such an activity. . .

Commenter "Joseph" linked to a butt-related bottlerocket YouTube video that literally had me clutching my gut from laughing so hard. I won't post the video here, because it's not exactly (or at all) safe for work, but it's still about the funniest thing I'll see this week, so I'll link to it below:

ASSROCKET!

UPDATE: Inspired by that video and the image of the FAIL dog, I give you:

NOTE: I should give credit to my co-worker, Caroline, for actually providing the idea for the above image. Since she doesn't have her own ThunderJournal, it's up to me to see her ideas come to online fruition.

Pic 'O' The Day

Via THIS FARK THREAD.

Today's Headline Exercise

Ryan says: INTERESTING HEADLINE: "Man drowns after he jumps or falls from La Crosse bridge"

Caroline says: Ooooh, multiple choice headlines! Interactive!

Ryan says: I would have gone with "Plummets."

Caroline says: Or "Man was on bridge, ended up dead in water."

Caroline says: "You do the math"

Ryan says: "Man drowns after high speed descent from La Cross bridge."

Ryan says: "Respitory inhalation of di-hydrogen oxide following gravitational pull from La Cross bridge results in cessation of vital signs for area male gendered individual."

Shark Jumping in Three Seasons or Less?

Look, I used to love the show "Weeds." The first two seasons were really quite good. But, just like most people who smoke weed just a tad too much, the writers for the show seem to be out of good ideas, or just sensical ideas in general. You have an elementary school kid spouting political rhetoric that's about as out of place as a cowboy at a Star Trek convention--think current day Oliver Willis as a fifth grader, which isn't hard to do. You have a slacker 30-something guy who gets drafted into the army, only to be discharged part way through basic training after he unwittingly takes a cell phone video of a guy getting killed by a kind of military drone, and has his nuts squeezed by a overly stereotypical army segeant kind of guy. Now you have the slacker 30-something guy doing catering work for a porno outfit which, I'm all for naked people and all that, but on the believability scale, this show is officially off the charts.

Then again, I also watched "3:10 to Yuma" yesterday, which also strains believability, but which is also across the board awesome.