Hogan!

Wathcha Gonna Do When They Come for You?

7 Mary 3 & 4:



Ricco and Sonny:

Some Say that Life Here Began Out There

Lorne Greene:



Edward James Olmos:

Book 'Em Danno

And The Hits Keep Coming

I had a Steve Austin doll. That made sense. I also had the Oscar Goldman doll with booby-trapped brief case. Esentially, a bureaucrat action figure.




And this one... I wonder how this studio pitch went: "So, ya, it's just like Smokey and the Bandit, only with a MONKEY!!"

Boys With Cars

I was thrilled to see such an enthusiastic response to the first entry in my "Best TV Theme Song" series. In an effort to capitalize upon the feverish frenzy, I will post two theme songs tonight for your pleasure.

The first is a riveting sequence that got the juices pumping for an inevitable weekly let down. It really was a crappy show with no direction or any hope of resolution (Much like "Lost." Sorry folks.)

Here's Harcastle and McCormick



The next was a more successful venture into the man-boy-adventure genre. The Mustache, the shorts, the car. It's Magnum.

Pearly Whites

DO YOU HAVE A SHITTY SMILE?

DO YOUR GUMS BLEED?

DO YOUR BEST FRIENDS CALL YOU "YUCK MOUTH?"

Well, if you answered "yes" to any of these important questions, then do I ever have a dentist for you. The Gin & Tonic Lounge's very own resident tooth mechanic has his very own brand new website.

Be sure to Check it out, HERE

The Foreseeable Future.

Ah, the leisurely life of a lawyer...

Chauffeured into the office each morning in our gold-plated Mercedes by tanned Swedish bikini models, we are met at the door by our personalized pygmy attendants. Fresh French pressed coffee is served in jewel-encrusted chalices by virgin handmaidens. I sit in my baby-seal skin chair to listen to young Irish choir boys read my mail to me while I am fanned with handfuls of my own money.

For our afternoon break, we shoot peasants with hunting rifles from the roof, and then we give thanks to our lord, Satan, for our glorious bounty.

Or so you think...

I was in the office until 9:30 tonight, clearing the decks to prepare for next week's trial. It's bound to be a big one.

The cleaning lady was startled to see me. I quickly tucked the burger wrappers (my only meal today) into the trash can, and handed it over my desk to her. I finished two phase reports for the insurance company, three responses to Requests for Production and finalized an inbox full of dictation, all after 6:30.

The desk is now clear. Trial prep starts tomorrow. Trial begins Monday.

Oh, and, did I mention that my entire family is coming up to visit from California on Friday?

Needless to say, I'm not going to be spending much in the way of time bloggin until the middle of next week. In the mean time, I do have a lovely little series in the can ready to go. So, without further ado, here is the first in a multi-part series I'd like to call "Best TV Theme Songs."

Tonight's entry is by far one of the best, and most riveting opening theme songs ever orchestrated. I write, of course, about SWAT:



As a five-year-old in the mid-70s, this song could wind me up to a degree that raw sugar could only dream about...

Two-Fer

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

College Fund

The Monkey is clearly smarter than I am.

Perhaps it is cliche parental pride, but it appears to me that she is aglow with talent and potential. It is, therefore, fair to assume that she will, in all likelihood, earn a full ride to whichever institution of higher learning she eventually wishes to attend.

She'd better, because Mama and Daddy will still be paying on their own mortgage-sized student loans by the time she graduates from high school.

Absent that, she may have to work her way through college, like her dear old dad. Of course while I slung pizzas to pay for tuition, she seems to possess more lucrative talents:





Yes, I am in fact going to hell...

Tight Grouping

Playing darts at the Lucky Labrador, Josh decided to play Robin Hood. This is an actual photo of Josh's actual darts. He did, in fact, sink the tip of his third dart between the flight and the shaft of the second dart. All three were grouped in the bulls eye.

Portland Oregon

This is a little video tour around the city I call home. Well, OK, I actually live in the burbs to the South, but I work there!

It kinda peters-out toward the end, but you get the point...

Big Kahuna Burger

I arrived home tonight, after a long cold gray day, to the warm and unmistakably inviting smell of homemade chicken soup.

Carrots and onions, simmering in a tall pot with celery and rice. Chunks of roasted chicken swam in the current of hot broth. There were biscuits too, with soft butter and honey. It was a perfect meal, punctuated by the bright fire in the fireplace and the cold Autumn rain slapping the windows outside.

I slurped the soup from the big spoon, and my thoughts wandered, as they always do when I eat soup, to my favorite scene from my favorite movie. Angel Eyes walks into the man's house. He is going to kill the man, but first, he's going to eat the man's soup. He sits at the rough-hewn peasant table and pulls the wooden bowl close. The soup eating is noisy and sloppy. The conversation dodges around a mysterious bag of gold.

Once fed, Angel Eyes kills the man, and the man's swarthy son, in cold blood. Of the three titular characters, Angel Eyes is established in that moment as the "Bad."

It's a good movie.

It was good soup.

The Lounge

I discovered something disturbing today, or, perhaps, "peculiar," is more appropriate. As I wound down from my active afternoon, I wandered the neighborhood around my little patch of the blogosphere.

I checked in on our old friends at the Syndicate and our new friends at the Gouda. I traveled to Wales to read some tales, and meandered to Minneapolis to check in on Margus. Eventually, I logged into the dark master of my soul, Myspace.

Jesus, I stay off the internet for a couple of days and you'd think I was dying of cancer... Slowly, I hacked through the messages and comments, and porn-spam-friend requests. I read blog entries and blog comments, and I caught up on the non-spam bulletins.

Then slowly I sauntered about, checking in on the various changes folks have made to their profiles. I flickered through my friends list until I happened upon Ryan's profile. It has been nicely done up in hellish Halloween fashion. But then, as I scrolled down past the Tim Burton caricatures, I spied something truly wicked.

It was a picture of Dave.

You know, Dave. Dead Honkey Dave. Deuce Dave. Dave.

He's on Ryan's friends list. I mean, holy hell, how does that happen??

First, let me put this into perspective. Accurate or not, I like to hold myself out as a somewhat worldly, quasi-amoral, mostly-godless, drunken lecherous hedonist. However, if I were to envision the personification of my id in the form of the devil sitting on my shoulder, that devil would be Dave.

In stark contrast, the responding angel on the other shoulder would certainly be Ryan. Now, to make matters only more complicated, these images are based on nothing more than the respective duo's public personas, for in reality, both are fine upstanding moral citizens with a duplicitous penchant for the seedy side of life. However, the real kicker is, absent the Lounge, they would never have known each other.

I have been told, time and again, from secret readers and Lounge lurkers that many folks are afraid to enter the fray and leave a comment, because everyone here knows each other and everything is an inside joke.

Alas, nothing could be further from the truth. High school, law school, gateway-friends, wives of friends and friends of wives of friends, most of y'all have never met. Some of you, I've never met. Some of you live on other continents. Most of you live in other states. Some I've met on-line, and others have yet to pipe up and say hello.

And yet here is Dave, who I've known longer than I've had armpit hair, showing up as a friend of Ryan, who I played poker with many years later in law school.

And there are others too! But my head hurts too much from this one to think about those.

Social networking indeed...

Magic Water

My stomach doesn't feel particularly well. It's rumbling. It's grumbling. Perhaps it was the copious amount of booze consumed at Brenda's wedding over the weekend, or the lack of sleep. Perhaps it's the endless conveyor belt of craptastic food that I've consumed over the last couple of days.

Perhaps my job is to blame, with Tuesday's arbitration and the trial barreling down upon me at the end of the month. Maybe it's the row of unread medical-record notebooks, standing like a siege wall along the perimeter of my desk.

Whatever is the cause, it sounds (and feels) like a herd of water buffalo have taken up station in my belly. Therefore, tonight, as I prepped for tomorrow's Arbipalooza, I felt the need to rush down the hall to the downstairs guest suite bathroom.

This is, quite frankly, one of my favorite rooms in the whole house. It is one of the main reasons I wanted to buy the house. I recall exclaiming the word: "OOH!" upon first seeing it.

It is a simple bathroom. Shower/bath, toilet, sink, mirror. Spartan in decor, it is clean, and well furnished with pilfered hotel toiletries for our guests. More importantly, however, it is mostly isolated from the rest of the house and is, therefore, ideal for me to do the deed.

(No, I'm not talking about masturbation. At least, not this time.)

No, you know what I'm talking about, and this room is the ideal place for it. With this squarely in mind, I also keep this room stocked with an assortment of varied literature for my quality reading time.

So, tonight, I found myself sitting for a spell, and started thumbing through a recent copy of Popular Science. It is a reputable rag, to be sure, there was something about robots... Anyway, as I reached the advertisement pages near the back cover, I came across a bright bold red warning declaring that FILTERED WATER MAY BE AS DANGEROUS AS CIGARETTES!!

An anonymous woman from SD (South Dakota?) was quoted, "All around me they have MS, but they all drink pure filtered water from distillers, filters, ozonators, and reverse osmosis machines. The water is PURE, why do they have MS?"

I failed to see the connection, but I was intrigued. Maybe I was missing something.

But wait, there was more:

"People with Cancer flush their disease along with their medicine into the ground water 4-5 times per day. (Those bastards!) If you have well water and people in your town have cancer, there's a good chance you could get cancer!!"

OK, are they saying Cancer is contagious?? I mean, if your neighbors have cancer, and you have cancer, shouldn't you be more suspicious of the chemical processing plant across the street?

Apparently, they have a cure for that problem too:

"A town in Colorado that was fined $10,000 per day because water treatment companies couldn't stop the horrible smell from a 5 acre waste lagoon with over 10 million gallons of sewer waste. (Yes, that was a sentence fragment.) We sprayed our energized water on the surface of the lagoon. The smell was gone in 24 hours!"

Finally, in the poorly-written closing pitch, we are told: "Now you have been warned about cigarettes AND pure water products." Well, thank god for that.

It would be nice if it were true. All I'd have to do is drink some energized water, "with electrons!" and all of my many many medical maladies would wash away. Perhaps a tall cool glass of iced magic water could sooth my rumbling gut.

What isn't nice, however, is the sloppily fabricated fear tactics employed by these jackasses. I mean, it's one thing to separate a dimwit from his money, but it's always someone's gullible grandma or ailing aunt that gets hoodwinked by this hokum.

Wanna see for yourself? Check it out right here. The company seems to be located in New York. Anyone know the number for the Justice Department back there?

I think it's time for some Pepto...

Here's Something to Look Forward To

Ooh, the new trailer!

Karl Rove Finally did Something I Agree With

Please please please let THIS be true!

Ultimate Showdown

We've all seen the little video. Now it is time to pose the ultimate challenge:

VERSUS

GEORGE WASHINGTON

Fact #1

George Washington: Was 6'8" and weighed 1 ton.

Chuck Norris: Not measurable by any form of Geometry or Physics.

Fact #2

George Washington: 2 sets of testicles.

Chuck Norris: Chuck doesn't get kicked in the nuts, his nuts kick you.

Fact #3

George Washington: Invented cocaine.

Chuck Norris: Necessity is the mother of invention, but Chuck Norris is its father.

Fact#4

George Washington: Had a pocketful of horses and fucked the shit our of bears.

Chuck Norris: Ya, George can have that one...

Fact #5

George Washington: Will kick you apart.

Chuck Norris: Will also kick you apart.

Fact #6

George Washington: Women dug his snuff and his gallant stroll.

Chuck Norris: Behind every successful man, there is a woman. Behind every dead man, there is Chuck Norris.

Fact #7

George Washington: 12 stories tall and made of radiation.

Chuck Norris: Doesn't get sunburned. Rather, the sun gets Chuckburned.

Fact #8

George Washington: 6'20" - fuckin killing for fun.

Chuck Norris: Has a deep and abiding respect for human life... Unless it gets in his way.

Alright folks, those are the facts. You be the judge...

Burrito Update

I found that I was out of Frozen Burritos.

I ate leftover teriyaki meatballs instead.


Hey, my pal, Ann, posted a brilliant video over at her Myspace Blog. Go check it out!

Conquest Update

As the Julii faction, I have captured the northern provinces of Italia, and have earned the good will of the Senate. I am preparing for my invasion of Gaul.

I am also hungry after having had a small dinner. I think a microwaved burrito before bed is in order.

NIHIL EST--IN VITA PRIORE EGO IMPERATOR ROMANUS FUI

I was the Grand sovereign Sultan of the Ottoman Empire. My holdings stretched along the southern coast of the sea, past the pyramids and the shores of Tripoli.

The Straight of Gibraltar was sealed in the West by my fleet of Dhows and Galleys. The Bosphorus was blocked by my occupation of Constantinople in the East.

My wicked Janissaries had overrun the sad Spanish defenses of Queen Isabella's ancestors. I was perched upon the high Pyranese at one end of the known world, and stood astride the Danube at the other.

I had been here before, in other lands, on other continents. I was surveying my opposition, taking stock of my forces, and tweaking the production output of my hinterlands. The politics and supply-lines were secure. The rebels were under foot. It was time to muster and attack. All that stood between me and world domination were the English, the Germans and the Pope.

Allah was with me. It was time.

I right-clicked the mouse...

Medieval: Total War, released in 2002 was perhaps the greatest comprehensive computerized strategy game ever created. Second in a series of three, it followed 2000's Shogun: Total war, and preceded 2004's less-enthralling Rome: Total War.

The series blends strategy with tactical command, and intertwines them with politics, religion and economy. Entire nights and weekends have been lost to these all-consuming conquests. That is, until the release of Rome.

Following in the footsteps of Medieval, Rome rode a wave of frenzied anticipation in the geekosphere. Once released, though, it was found to be too linear, and have more style than substance. It was still fun though, and better than most of the crap that's out there.

Blogging has put a damper on all things game-related, and fatherhood hasn't helped either. In the past week or so, though, I have begun to watch the HBO series, "Rome," with it's flashy fighting and fleshy debauchery, the old soundtrack of Rome: Total War has been rattling around in my head.

Then, tonight, I caught the spectacular series on Roman engineering on the History Channel. Whoa boy, that put me over the top. Rome is now now out of the closet and sitting on my desk. I bet it would look awfully pretty running on my new PC... Ooh... Look at the horsies..

Monday Morning: The Greatest Music Video Ever

So, I had an inspired idea for a blog post this weekend. It was one of those perfect-moment ideas. It made perfect sense. It was inspired by one of those deeply-repressed memories, which when sprung, evoked an emotional response.

Unfortunately, one idea led to another, which in turn led to hours and hours of needless googling, and youtubing. (I'm not sure if "youtubing" is a word, but I don't really care much at this point...)

I now have an ungodly assortment of raw material, relating in name only to the original Concept. I still think there is a good idea in there somewhere, but at this point it's all a useless pile of pig shit.

So, now it's late, and I'm tired. My brain is feeling a little bit numb. I may have more energy to attack this problem on Monday. So, for now, here's the greatest music video ever made:

Geek Out!!

It was 1978. I was 7 years old, and still under the spell of the Force. I was caught in the tractor beam. I was paralyzed by Darth Vader's death grip.

The powers that be, in television land, were not blind to the phenomenon. Star Wars was still selling tickets, a year after its release. Star Wars toys (including those wiley storm troopers) were flying off the shelf. A Star Wars-like knock off was inevitable.

Fortunately, Glen A. Larson had a big-budget Sci Fi adventure, based oddly enough on Mormonism and vague Greek mythology, already on the hopper. Thus the original clunky clumsy cheesy Battlestar Galactica was born.

I was addicted!

This show came with its own accessory toys as well. Unfortunately, they came in a different scale than the Star Wars toys.

This, however, was only the beginning. In the years that followed, there would be role-playing games, dice-based strategic board games, computer games (both strategic and role-playing), Model United Nations, Political Science club, the Dune series, the Hobbit, the Lord of the Rings, Law School, more Star Wars movies, Magic: the Gathering, squirrel-based websites and numerous blogs.

Don't forget the many many many Star Trek series, movies and books.

Oh, and the X-files: My wife and I had Mulder and Scully cake toppers at our wedding.

So, it should come as no surprise to anyone that knows me, that I have geeked-out completely over the new version of BSG. Only now, it's not so new. Tonight, Friday, 9:00, Sci Fi Channel, the long awaited third season begins. I'll be watching here at home with the missus, and a couple of regular anonymous readers. Down in Salem, Ryan will be watching with Inog and Mrs. Inog. Down in Los Angeles, Mitch will be watching, presumably alone, or perhaps with Mrs. Mitch.

This ain't Star Trek. This ain't Buck Rogers.


Get this video and more at MySpace.com

Due to overwhelming popular demand, I tend to avoid blogging about this show here in the Lounge. Well, OK, mostly it's Dr. Brian who complains, but I'm sensitive to his criticism. Therefore, Abestis and I have created an entirely separate blog called "And they Have a Plan," taken from the catch phrase in the opening credits.

The Plan, for short, has been dormant lo these many months. The show is back on, however, and so is the blog. If you're a fan, come and visit.

Lunch

This is not the sort of thing you should eat everyday. At least, not if you want to live past next week. However, on occasion, nothing will provide your pallet with pure pleasure like a Carl's Jr. Pastrami Burger. Get it to go, take it home, get naked, eat it with an ice cold beer.

It's like throwing a party, all inside your mouth.

Here, if you print this coupon, you can even save a buck.

My Osama Bin Laden Prediction

Page Two of this morning's local paper featured a photo of President Bush planting an Elm tree. He had nothing in particular to say. He was just planting a tree.

Page One, however, featured the following stories:

1. Seven Amish girls were shot, execution style, in their small 18th century school house.

2. The Amish school shooting was the latest in a nation-wide epidemic of deadly school violence.

3. A conservative Republican Congressman was outed as a predatory homosexual pedophile, and the entire Republican congressional leadership was implicated in the cover up. (Not that there's anything wrong with being a predatory homosexual pedophile, but it just can't play well with the Pat Robertson-loving fan base back home.)

4. North Korea is planning a nuclear test.

5. 2/3 of American disapprove of the President's handling of Iraq.

6. 58% of American believe that he intentionally lied to provoke the war.

7. Republican candidates across the country are scurrying as fast as they can to distance themselves from Bush before the election.

Oh, and that mid-term election? It's coming up on November 7.

So, here is my prediction. Remember, loyal Lounge readers, you heard it here first, October 3, 2006, before it ever happened:

BEFORE NOVEMBER 7, OSAMA BIN LADEN WILL BE "CAPTURED."



I use quotation marks because he has probably already been in custody for some time, kept tucked away, comfortably, until his revelation was required. Also, "Captured" includes killed, or revealed to be dead.

Perhaps that is too conspiracy-sounding. I admit that it's possible he may be free, but do you really believe that the FBI, CIA, NSA and the US military haven't been able to track him down for over 5 years??

Puppet-Master Cheney is shrewd enough to hold onto that ace-in-the-hole for just the right moment. With the prospect of his oil-slathered co-conspirators losing control of every office down to dog catcher in Des Moines, I'd say this qualifies as the "right moment."

The GOP needs a major distraction. They need a tail, strong enough to wag the entire dog.

Remember, when the official announcement is made, I get the bragging rights.

Reading for Comprehension:
1. I assume this post will catch the attention of the fine folks over at the NSA. Hi guys! We're just exercising the First Amendment over here. While you're snooping around, be sure to check out the posts about Vanilla and the Tinsel Hat!

2. Who are the other 42%, and why are they allowed out in public without helmets??

3. Why am I still a Republican? WHY??

Tags: Osama Bin Laden Foley Election Amish

Always Five Acting As One

I hate orthopedic surgeons who know more than me. Really, I hate arrogant fucking doctors in general.

Thank the Lord for the sweet embrace of Gin.

I'm tired. Here, have some G-Force.

Bollywood Monday

It's been a busy weekend. My mind is a bit mushy at the moment. It pains me, however, to let you down first thing Monday morning. So, I'll resort once again to the Youtube garden of delight.

Apart from a jug of Gallo and a carton of Cools, there is no better way to start a Monday than a 5-minute Bollywood dance clip. This particular clip comes to us from one of my favorite guilty indulgences, Lagaan. It's a moderately-melodramatic over-the-top underdog tale of peasants, imperialism, triple taxation, and Cricket. Pick up some Indian take-out and pop this puppy into your DVD player.



Yes, I've talked about Lagaan before. Look, I'm a sucker for the swirling colors and dizzying dancing. If you want to know what these fine folks are singing about, rent the movie and watch it with the subtitles. If you are really clever, however, (and I suspect that you are) just watch the clip. I am confident that you will figure it out.

Reading for Comprehension:

1. Ever see Bride and Prejudice? (There's another recommendation)

2. This clip makes me hungry. I may have to go to the Indian buffet on Hawthorne for lunch.

3. I'm going to add an "India" tag just for fun. Whenever I do that, my hits go through the roof...

Tags: Lagaan India Bollywood