We'll never forget you. Try as we may.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Last day on the job for Mr President
Final words, thoughts, prayers for Our W, the man who for better and worst has faithfully steered this country since 2001? Let us respond to him, the Decider, in kind.
We'll never forget you. Try as we may.
We'll never forget you. Try as we may.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
You know the economy's gone real rotten when...
Good god, the Bush Man of Fisherman's Wharf has been laid off!
(Alright, he was just off taking a piss. But still -- can he be far behind??)
(Alright, he was just off taking a piss. But still -- can he be far behind??)
How I told my alma mater to fuck off
Like most dudes my age (that I knew) I went off to college at the age of 18, a fresh-faced young scholar ready to read books, learn stuff, and generally make a mark for himself in academia. Four years later, I was a haggard 21 year old with numerous lost weekends (yeah blackouts!), an impending sense of doom, and lots and lots of credit hours spent learning jack-shit (thanks to the magic that is GPA and the double magic that is GPA-based hiring by corporations, students are generally encouraged to undertake such tasks as "basket weaving," "tv-watching" and "fucking one's self" when completing general education requirements).
Don't get me wrong -- I enjoyed myself (mostly) and am (mostly) proud of where I went to school. And I am very lucky, in that I have generous parents who took it upon themselves to pay every last penny of my (egregiously expensive) education: $120,000, or what I make in about four years (every last penny). That figure has now ballooned closer to $200,000, as the country slides further and further towards recession and those same GPA-mad companies lay off thousands.
All this was in my mind when my school came calling today -- calling (or, fine, e-mailing), but with a "hey how's it going" or "would you like to be in our newsletter." No. It was the GIVE US MONEY PLEASE.
Really. You'd like some money. Hey, I understand. I'd like some, too.
So I caved. I did it. I donated two pennies to the business school, in the honor of Corporate Graft and Greed.
If you're reading this, you're welcome, school. Feel free to come back anytime you'd like another handout. In the meantime, I'm still waiting for my "priceless education" to pay a single fucking dividend outside of football and hockey seasons.
Don't get me wrong -- I enjoyed myself (mostly) and am (mostly) proud of where I went to school. And I am very lucky, in that I have generous parents who took it upon themselves to pay every last penny of my (egregiously expensive) education: $120,000, or what I make in about four years (every last penny). That figure has now ballooned closer to $200,000, as the country slides further and further towards recession and those same GPA-mad companies lay off thousands.
All this was in my mind when my school came calling today -- calling (or, fine, e-mailing), but with a "hey how's it going" or "would you like to be in our newsletter." No. It was the GIVE US MONEY PLEASE.
Really. You'd like some money. Hey, I understand. I'd like some, too.
So I caved. I did it. I donated two pennies to the business school, in the honor of Corporate Graft and Greed.
If you're reading this, you're welcome, school. Feel free to come back anytime you'd like another handout. In the meantime, I'm still waiting for my "priceless education" to pay a single fucking dividend outside of football and hockey seasons.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
A supe a day keeps the AIDS away
Happy New Year. Enough with that shit. Onto the griping.
Today I visited the Castro St. Muni station, situated as it is in the middle of the Castro District, America's biggest gay neighborhood, which is NOT represented by San Francisco's biggest gay politician.
Though not even Tom Ammiano can claim this.
This gave me some pause. I mean -- what? Seriously.
There he is, the Honorable Bevan Dufty, sporting a shit-eating grin -- a face I've seen thrown my way at 440 -- asking for help in finding out if a pill a day can prevent HIV. I mean -- OK, I'm all for AIDS prevention and treatment, too. But I mean -- what? Was Gavin not available for the photo? Don't get me wrong -- I like Bevan. He's good for a quote, isn't a total slimeball and is mostly transparent in his governance. But I would guarantee you at least half of Bevan's constituents don't know who the fuck he is, and with this one he's just an anonymous... grinner? I don't know. Kinda odd, mostly.
Today I visited the Castro St. Muni station, situated as it is in the middle of the Castro District, America's biggest gay neighborhood, which is NOT represented by San Francisco's biggest gay politician.
Though not even Tom Ammiano can claim this.
This gave me some pause. I mean -- what? Seriously.
There he is, the Honorable Bevan Dufty, sporting a shit-eating grin -- a face I've seen thrown my way at 440 -- asking for help in finding out if a pill a day can prevent HIV. I mean -- OK, I'm all for AIDS prevention and treatment, too. But I mean -- what? Was Gavin not available for the photo? Don't get me wrong -- I like Bevan. He's good for a quote, isn't a total slimeball and is mostly transparent in his governance. But I would guarantee you at least half of Bevan's constituents don't know who the fuck he is, and with this one he's just an anonymous... grinner? I don't know. Kinda odd, mostly.
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