Hi. My name is Clark and this is my blog. My intent is to entertain and I'd like this to be more than "Clark And What Pisses Him Off" (although there will definitely be some of that) so I'll be posting some short humorous fiction as well. I hope you like it.
WARNING: Sometimes I will cuss. And I will also embellish facts (ie: lie) in the interest of making things funnier than they really are. Just so you know.
"Purple Rain", the album, movie and concert tour came out 31 years ago. That means babies who were born as a result of any or all of those things are old enough now to complain about back pain.
Good grief.
Of course, I'm a huge Prince fan. I'm also a huge fan of Jill Jones, who plays the cocktail waitress ("Jill"). Plus, I've decided that going to a Dodgers game in Los Angeles with Apollonia is a bucket list item, so for several reasons, the movie is kind of a big deal to me. I'll celebrate the occasion by fondly reminiscing about the first time I saw it. I had an intense crush on a girl at the time, a crush that had been brewing for about four years. Taking her to this movie was our first date. That was a really good day/night, even though the crush ultimately turned out to be a bad idea. Oh well. What is there to celebrate in life other than the collection of good days/nights?
Anybody who wants to celebrate with a more tangible memento, the house that where The Kid lived and struggled with all kinds of familial dysfunction in the movie is available for sale, for a mere $110,000!
"He's the all American bullet-headed Saxon mother's son"
As my friend J.B. Ball says about the 'sport' of hunting, "It's not a sport if one side doesn't know it's playing". That pretty much sums up how I feel about it. At least in the case of most hunters and fishermen who actually eat what they kill, there's a sense of purpose to it. I don't necessarily support that (there are lots of places to get something to eat without killing anything) but I can appreciate that it's not just a total waste. Not so in the case of big game, professional piece-of-cowardly-shit, trophy hunters like Walter Palmer. There's just no way for me to understand the mindset...
"Wow, I'm on safari in Africa! And there's a lion! This is incredible! I have been fortunate enough to find myself with the fairly unique opportunity to be in the presence of one of nature's most magnificent creatures, in its natural habitat. This is something most human beings will never experience in their lives. I guess there's nothing else I can do but to kill it. Of course! I need to end that creature's life for the sole purpose of being able to say I did. Look at it! Just walking around, going about the business of being a lion, all unarmed and stuff, with no idea whatsoever that I can end its existence from a distance, with every conceivable man-made advantage at my disposal and giving it exactly zero chance of defending itself. That's nature! That's sport! Yes, I need to kill it, hopefully giving it a slow and agonizing death, and then have my picture taken with its dead body. That way I'll have proof that I killed it. I should also chop its head off and mount it on a plaque for wall hanging. That's a good souvenir. I'm just a douchebag, low-life, bulb-headed dentist from Minnesota and there's no way I'll be able to prove I killed a lion if I can't show people pictures along with its actual chopped-off head. Goddamn, I'm awesome!"
Now, as much fun as it might be to find Walter Palmer, strip him naked and then chase him through an urban environment with rusty steak knives, letting him know nothing but fear and pain for what little time he would have remaining here on Earth, it's probably not a good idea. besides, come on, you know that isn't something that's going to happen. Enough with the rhetoric for once. Instead, it would be a more poetic gesture for lots of people to do something positive in response to one asshole doing something shitty.
To that end, here's a link where you can make a donation to the Univerity of Oxford's Wildlife Conservation Research Unit, the organization that was tracking Cecil and is "now recognised as the leading university-based institute for wildlife conservation research".
Senseless violent tragedy, innocent people murdered
Expressions of deep sadness
Expressions of anger, punctuated by cries of "Enough!"
Equally angry deflection by hobbyists; "It's not the hobby, it's X, Y and/or Z or something else. Also, constitutional rights."
Unleash the memes!
The mentally ill are blamed
The mentally ill are all like, "Hey, don't put this on us. We're doing the best we can over here"
Victims remain dead
Hobbyists depicted by opponents as bloodthirsty and paranoid
Opponents depicted by hobbyists as gutless and oppressive
Each side accuses the other of being ignorant and what's wrong with America
Obama's level of culpability is debated
Update on victims status: still dead
Rinse, repeat
Apparently, since this is all that ever happens, every single time, we're okay with it. Shhh! Shhh! Don't protest to the contrary; regardless of what "side" you're on and whatever flavor of rhetoric you prefer, your (actually, our) actions speak much, much louder than words.
Of course you say you're sad about it because that's what you're supposed to say. I don't mean to impugn anyone's sincerity; if you express sadness over these things, I'm sure you mean it. After all, nobody who isn't a true sociopath likes it when innocent people are killed, and in spite of my opposition to gun hobbyists, in no way do I believe they're sociopaths. The fact of the matter is this is the way we have chosen to live and in spite of the occasional unpleasant incident, overall we're fine with it. We must be; we totally tolerate it. Sure, we bitch about it but that's as far as it goes. Let's just cut all the bullshit and at least admit that.
What's a human life worth to us? I don't know. What do these go for?
The other day, I saw this posted on Facebook:
The NRA sees this and wonders what's wrong with 11 people.
Woo hoo! A whole fucking day! Talk about lowering the bar. It was posted the day aftera road rage incident resulted in a man being murdered in front of his family, so as far as I know, at least it's accurate, so kudos for that, I guess. But 24 hours is the acceptable standard for celebrating an extended period of non-lethal mayhem?
The NRA starts getting antsy around 48 hours
I'm not saying to give up the fight (again, regardless of which side you're on), I'm saying there is no fight. More accurately, all there is is fight. It feels good to stand up to those morons on the other side, whichever side that is, puff out your chest and "take a stand", doesn't it? Gets the blood flowing! You showed them! But that's for you, not for the benefit of anyone else. Let's not pretend the back-and-forth conjecture and debate is anything but that. This is still America, after all. We have a system that allows us to pretty much have whatever we want, including the ability to change things, and if we really wanted to, we would. The only logical conclusion that can be drawn when we don't is that's not what we really want, so we don't.
We built this city
This is the way of life we have chosen. The indisputable fact of the matter, proven by weight of overwhelming evidence compiled in a rapidly repeating history, is:
People are going to have guns and from time to time, other people are going to die.
It's that simple and it's going to stay that way until we decide otherwise.
"'Now wait a minute. Isn't there something just a week prior to this that he expects us to attend? Does he really think we're going to show for every recital this shrimp-head gets signed up for? What a pain in the ass.' Now that you know what my mom and dad would say about this, yes, I'm inviting you to another stand-up comedy event that I'm participating in at Side Splitters, and yes, it's only a week after the one I just invited you to the other day. Here's the deal: Side Splitters presents a comedy tournament every year and I've been invited to participate. I will face off against Nancy Cannon on Sunday, August 16th at 7:00 pm, prior to a show headlined by Nick Griffin. If I win (determined by audience vote), I move on to the next round to face someone else. At stake, eventually, are cash prizes and the opportunity to travel and do gigs on the road. I'd love to have you in my corner and if you can make it out, you can use my initials (CB) as a promo code for $5 tickets at WWW.SIDESPLITTERSCOMEDY.COM. That's for the whole show, not just the tournament part. Pretty good deal."
"Hi. I did this before, back in May and I'm doing it again in August. Yes, once again we shall gather at Side Splitters where I will stand up in front of you and take the words from my brain knob, spit them from my mouth hole and directly into your head noggin via your ear caves with the hope that this provokes a laughter reaction. I would like to invite you to attend, whether you were able to do so in May or not. Why? More like WHY NOT? Boom. Gotcha.
Here are details from last time, copied and pasted from that event because even though they are old facts, they are still just as true today as they were in ancient times, albeit slightly edited to reflect our trendy times:
It'll be an open mic format, meaning I don't know exactly what time I'll be going on (but it will be pretty early on) and it will be a short set, probably about 10 minutes...
You don't have to buy tickets in advance (I don't get a penny of the gate money either way) but if you want to, you can do so by going to https://sidesplitterscomedy.com/tampa/event-list/
Don't sweat the price; there will be lots of really good local comedians so it will be worth it. Plus, I think it comes with a free drink and pizza or something.*
* = Confirmed; it totally does!"
"Hi guys! Come on out and see an amazing showcase by some of the best of the bay as we revamp the format and make the comedy marathon into something even greater at a later date!
The Bay Area is home to many professional and touring comedians, migrating comics and up & coming talent. The Bay’s comics have been seen on television, in film, heard on the radio, launched successful podcasts and beyond. The night includes a host of different styles - Performances include Aniria Aniria ,Clark Brooks, Comedian James Bailey, Jerod Walker, Jennifer Hensleigh ,Jim Choquette, Jonas Presendieu, Kyle Ruse , Rafiq Shaheen, Rob Prus, Max Herman, and TONY GAUD among others.
Must be 21 & up to enter."
That's right; the main stage of the friggin' Improv!! Holy... !!!
Hey, we shot a commercial for The Spike On The Mic Show the other day! Here it is (complete with bonus outtakes)
So yeah, Mondays at 7 PM. Listen live, listen later or even come join us in person (I might buy you a ham sandwich) at Pin Chasers, 4847 North Armenia in Tampa.
Remember our friend Marissa Rapier, The Pride Of Kankakee? Well, yesterday she posted this on her Facebook page.
"Lumpectomy;18 weeks of chemo; 36 rounds of radiation;sleepless nights;hair loss;weight gain, LOTS of prayers& support. NO MORE CANCER!!!"
Oh yeah. I may have forgotten to mention that she had cancer. That's relatively incidental at this point. What really matters is she doesn't any more. She has a routine check-up in six months, but for all intents and purposes, her nightmare is over.
The reason I'm sharing this is because lots of people refer to "kicking cancer's ass". Unfortunately, cancer is so devastatingly awful that happy endings are often few and far between. For even some of the bravest, most resolute victims and supporters faced with dark, bleak prospects, there can be times when talking about "kicking cancer's ass" can feel more like a hollow threat than the rally cry it should be. I know I've been there a time or three.
Marissa is living proof that cancer's ass can be kicked. Marissa did it. If you're staring down some difficult circumstances and you're looking for a reason to remain hopeful, please know that the fight can be won.
Celebrate her victory. but more importantly, draw inspiration from it to use in your struggle.
Let this serve as a warning: DO NOT GO OUT FOR DINNER WITH ME.
Why? Because I'm a bad dinner companion?
Yes and no.
Not because of anything I do. My table etiquette is impeccable. I use napkins. I sniff the cap and offer my approval when the server presents a new bottle of ketchup. And farts are kept to a minimum (at least the loud chair rattlers). No, the problem is, at least lately, is that I seem to draw the absolute worst people to the restaurants where I eat, and in uncomfortably close seating proximity. There's no good reason for this. I must be sending out faulty pheromones or something. Here are three recent examples:
Friday, June 26: Origami Sushi, Hillsborough Avenue - I was sitting next to a family. Mom, dad and three kids. At one point, one of the kids went to the bathroom. When he comes back, his shoes are soaking wet and covered with wet, shredded toilet paper. That's not an exaggeration. I don't mean he had a piece of toilet paper stuck on the bottom of one of his shoes. As he came out of the bathroom, chunks of the sopping wet stuff were falling off and leaving a trail behind him and his shoes were still completely covered in the stuff when he got back to the table. Disgusting. He must have wrapped his feet in toilet paper and then dunked them in the toilet. Gross on so many levels. Of course, the parents didn't even notice. I'd imagine when you have a the kind of kid who wraps his shoes in wet toilet paper, it's a good idea to develop the ability to tune out. You know, as a coping mechanism,
Saturday, June 27: Gandolfo's New York Deli, Carrollwood - I ordered what was a pretty good hot pastrami sandwich on rye bread. It was ruined by a woman two tables away who cleared her throat, loudly, every 20 seconds or so. Not just a gentle "ahem" but a wet-sounding growl that rumbled up from the bottom of her throat, delivered at least three times a minute.
Sunday, June 28: Origami Sushi (again), Hillsborough Avenue - What can I say? I was in the mood for sushi that weekend. And with what happened Friday, my craving had yet to be sated. This time it was ruined by a party of six, two moms and four kids, who entered talking, loudly, and never once shut up or even turned down the volume. They were seated at a table for six but immediately started dragging tables around so they could add another to theirs. "We're going to need the room." Already annoying. Then the server came to take their drink orders. One of the kids said, "I want chocolate milk". One of the moms said, "We all want water" to which the kid added "And I want chocolate milk". The server said, "So, six waters..." and the kid interjected yet again "And a chocolate milk." When it was time to order the food, one of the moms piped up with, "Okay, first: no roe. On anything. Even if the recipe calls for it, no roe. I'm serious. And we don't eat the kind with raw fish, so if we order anything accidentally that comes with fish, just leave that out too. No raw fish and no roe. I can't stress how important it is that there is no roe on anything. Also no raw fish but especially the roe. Absolutely no roe whatsoever." How the server resisted the urge to just bring them a giant bowl full of roe, I don't know. Also, while these exchanges were happening, everybody at the table was talking and wanting to be heard so you can just imagine how loud it was. If you're wondering how many people it takes to change the atmosphere in a place from "quiet, little sushi restaurant on a pleasant Sunday evening" to "metropolitan bus station on a holiday weekend", the answer is six. Specifically, these six people.
A couple I know own a karaoke business. They've operated out of a number of different bars and restaurants in the area over the years. Lately, they seem bent on finding the places with the worst names in Tampa Bay. They operated out of Uncle Fat's before moving to their latest home at a place called Buckets. Those might both be fine establishments, but the names? I look forward to future announcements as they move around to venues with even worse names...
Hey gang! Join us this Saturday for karaoke and 2-for-1 Budweiser products at the Sewage Runoff!
Also, don't forget that we're at the beach every Sunday for red tide karaoke at the Bloated Manatee Carcass!
And of course, the fun continues with .10 wings all night long ~ and karaoke! ~ at Abandoned Children's Hospital!
"Basically, I want to spend every Sunday in August with you." - me, Wednesday
"What is this now? A couple of weeks ago, he told us about the thing at Side Splitters on the 9th. Then he told us about something at The Improv on the 2nd. Now what is he talking about? Does he really expect us to show up for every recital or bake sale or whatever this shrimp-head gets signed up for? Cripes, what a royal pain in the ass."
Now that you know what my mom and dad would say about this, and pretty much what they did say about any extra curricular activities I was involved with as a kid, yes, I'm inviting you to yet another stand-up comedy event that I'm participating in during August. This one is at Side Splitters, and yes, it's only a week after the one I just invited you to on June 19th and two weeks after the one I just mentioned Wednesday. That's right...
I OWN AUGUST!
bitches
This one is a little different though...
Here's the deal: Side Splitters presents a comedy tournament every year and I've been invited to participate. I will face off against Nancy Cannon on Sunday, August 16th at 7:00 pm, prior to a show headlined by Nick Griffin. If I win (determined by audience vote), I move on to the next round to face someone else. At stake, eventually, are cash prizes and the opportunity to travel and do gigs on the road.
I'd love to have you in my corner and if you can make it out, you can use my initials (CB) as a promo code for $5 tickets at WWW.SIDESPLITTERSCOMEDY.COM. That's for the whole show, not just the tournament part. Pretty good deal (hopefully the savings offsets the indignity of having to identify as a "fan").
"I don't care to win awards" - Prince, who has a shitload of awards
"Yeah, me neither" - Me, who does not
That said, it's time once again for the annual "Best of the Bay" awards, presented by Creative Loafing magazine. Would it be great to win one? Absolutely! Will I suffer in any meaningful way if I don't? Of course not. Probably.
Vote early, vote often, vote your conscience (whatever that means). Or don't do any of that. Regardless, this is the one and only time I'm mentioning it. No mock smear campaigns against "opponents", no relentless, obnoxious reminders every three days. Here's the link; do what you will. Or won't.
During hockey season, I wear two different hats on game days. During the day, I do my job for the Tampa Bay Lightning as a customer service manager at Amalie Arena, At 5:00, I switch hats and I cover the team as a staff writer for Raw Charge. Seems like a conflict of interest, doesn't it? I was worried about that at first two, and I think both sets of bosses were too. But it's been a few years now and I've been able to manage it so I don't think it's an issue anymore. What's interesting to me is how differently I'm treated in he same building by the same people as a member of the media. Before 5, I get things done myself. Once the credential goes around my neck, there's no shortage of people offering all kinds of assistance.
One area where that's really pronounced is the press dining room. The Lightning makes a meal available to the press before every home game, and it's pretty great. There's a full salad bar, a buffet, a carving station manned by a real chef and ice cream with about a dozen toppings. (AN ASIDE: the next time you read a story about spoiled pro athletes, feel free to call the writer up and laugh in his or her face.) This is all staffed by people who aren't exactly servers, but they are there to attend to you.
One of those people, we'll call her "Sharon" (not her real name) calls me "Scott" (not my real name). I don't know why. She always has and I've never corrected her. It never seemed important to do so, I guess. But she always greets me pleasantly with a "Hi, Scott!" and I always reply pleasantly.
One night during the recent playoffs, this exchange happened as I was taking my seat at a table with another writer who knows my name isn't Scott...
"What was that all about?" "She always says hi. She's very friendly." "Yeah, but your name isn't Scott." "Oh, I know. But this has been going on for years now and I think at this point, it would be rude to correct her." "So she's living a lie." "Kind of. A small part of her life is a lie, I guess. She's not aware of it though." "Hmm, I think it borders on deceit. I think you have an ethical dilemma on your hands." "You think I should tell her?" "It would be the moral thing to do, yes." "I can't just correct her here, in front of all these people." "No, that would be embarrassing." "But this is the only time I interact with her." "Ethical dilemmas are seldom easy to resolve." "Maybe I should wait until some day when her family visits her at work. When she's proudly showing off what she does and introducing people to her loved ones, I can pipe up with, 'That's not my name!'" "Or you could wait until she's on her death bed. Let it be the last thing she hears and too late to respond. That would tie things up nicely for you." "That's a good idea! Or if I die first, I could tell her while I'm on my death bed. Then I could slip off into the great beyond and leave her behind to wonder what the hell happened." "That's a solid plan. Get it off your chest and destroy her at the same time." "Maybe we should just take care of it now. She doesn't know you; why don't you tell her? You won't care if she thinks you're a jerk." "Oh, I don't want to be involved." "Too late. You involved yourself by bringing the whole thing up." "Why would she believe me, when she's known you for years?" "Why would she think you're lying? Do you have a habit of lying to people you've just met?" "You do, apparently." At that point "Sharon" came over to the table. "Hi Scott. Can I get you anything?" I reply, "No thanks, Sharon. I'm good." as she leaves. "No, you aren't", my dining companion whispers. "I know", I reply.
Here's the interesting thing about stupid people; we all agree that they exist and that there are a whole bunch of them wandering around out there and ruining our lives... but nobody ever thinks they're one of them. That's a mathematical disconnect that simply can't exist, folks. There can't be lots and lots of stupid people if nobody is stupid. But there are and so, somebody is. A perfect example is this World Champion. Watch and listen...
"What the heck is in our water supply?" To make this happen? Umm, just water.
"What the heck is in our oxygen supply? Of the metalicized-ized salt that creates a rainbow effect in a sprinkler." I'm pretty sure you don't need any salt to create a rainbow effect, regardless of how and how many times it's ized.
"What is oozing out of our ground?" Well, in this case it's pretty.
"Not just around our sun and our moon anymore..." Huh?
"Everywhere we look, the visual spectrum is rainbows." Oh, I get it. You mean these guys...
Admittedly more prevalent than they used to be.
You know, in the good ol' days, she would have proclaimed the sprinkler to be haunted, set fire to it and that would be the end of it.
Take that, accursed sprinkler. Or witch. Whatever.
Now however, she clearly believes that she is far more intelligent than the average rube who hasn't noticed this phenomena when in fact she's immeasurably more stupid than those who see it all the time, understand exactly how it happens and aren't worried in the least about it.
One can only hope that the sirens heard in the background are coming from the wacky-wagon on its way to her house to take her to a psychiatric treatment clinic because we don't currently have facilities to treat the aggressively stupid. I mean, we do, and they're called schools but she apparently skipped second grade or whenever it is that they teach you how rainbows work, basically that it's light refracted through drops of water to create a spectrum of colors. Of course, most small children don't need to take that class before figuring out that rainbows are probably the most harmless things that exist.
Vicious predator (by comparison)
DBoots (the author of this clip) skipped all the science-y stuff and went straight to a conspiracy theory that, I guess, works something like this:
The Government has an unquenchable thrist for energy sources, energy they need to take away our rights, both constituional and human.
To that end, they've pumped some sort of substance into the ground that is now oozing up and manifesting itself in the form of sinister backyard sprinkler rainbows.
Because that makes energy. Somehow. I guess from people freaking out.
Ironically, the only way to combat that tactic is by freaking out.
So don't play into their hands by running around, screaming and hollering about it.
But do run around, screaming and hollering about it.
Basically, DBoots wants you to be deeply concerned about pretty colors and the threat they pose to your rights, if not your health and safety.
See, she's one of the stupid people and because we're nice, we let her and people like her operate motor vehicles, vote, work, have babies and roam freely within our borders. Then we have to spend significant time and resources to make sure that those people don't harm themselves or others operating vehicles, voting, working, having babies and roaming freely within our borders. As a result, we don't have the time or resources left over to have and enjoy nice things.
"The people applauding Bruce Jenner for 'being himself' are the same people who condemned Tim Tebow and told him to 'keep his beliefs to himself'. This is what is wrong with America." - as posted on the Facebook page of "Ask DrBrown" (aka Dr Michael Brown)
Really? All those people are the exact same people? All of 'em? Gee, I just don't think that's true, Doc. For example, I posted entries on this very blog about Mr. Tebow and Ms. Jenner in which I display what I'd call "mostly indifference with definite supportive leanings" toward both of them. So there's that.
Also, I'd counter that dismissing large groups of people based on theoretically suspected beliefs and behavior rather than considering their actual merits and actions as individuals is a far bigger problem.
Well, that and also the sinister, twisted pieces of shit who paint with really wide brushes and seek to profit from fear-mongering.
