Standards and Grudges

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I went to Club Bristal with some folks from work. It was exactly what I thought it would be. For you out of towners, Club Bristal is a strip club in the very small town of North Bristal. The only major surprise was that they had at least eight girls working. There was seriously not enough business to warrant having that many girls working for several reasons. I’ll break it down for you. The girls work completely for tips and private dances. There weren’t that many people in the club and those that were there weren’t exactly big tippers. It was a strip club full of farmers. My friend Bill and I were waiting for the donkey to show up. Those of you that have been overseas to Southwest Asia or Mexico know what I’m talking about. I think our group was the big spenders for the night. I’m not sure exactly how much I spent. I probably dropped at least $100 and others in my group spent more than that. That includes drinks also though, which weren’t exactly cheap. You might think that a small town strip club would have discounted drink prices, you’d be wrong. Beer was $4 and mixed drinks were $5. I can’t remember how much shots were.

An interesting thing at the club was one of the patrons. I go into the bathroom to piss and there is a biker wearing brown chaps. He was taking a piss at the urinal and talking to a guy in a stall. I immediately recognized the voice of the brown chaps fellow. I couldn’t put a name to the voice until he said, “Those girls will be the end of Greg”. The brown chaps fellow is Johnny Danger, a local radio personality. I assume he was talking about his radio co-host, Greg. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen Johnny and for some reason he didn’t look the same, even though he’s probably not changed much. Sorry Johnny, but brown chaps? You’re kidding right? Blue jeans, black shirt and brown chaps. It was early in the night when Johnny was still there and the girls hadn’t started dancing yet. I wasn’t sure I was in the right kind of strip club.

I had a fairly busy weekend. Saturday I went back home to Sauk City to pick up a package and hang out with my parents. Of course I didn’t tell them I planned to do this. My Dad closed his shop early and they weren’t at home, so I had to find something else to do. Since I made the trip up to Sauk, I figured I might as well go to Devil’s Lake. I hiked up Potholes Trail and down the East Bluff trail to the North Shore. After getting there I decided to hike the West Bluff as well. I was wearing sandals and by the time I got to the West Shore I thought it would be a poor choice to stress my feet more than I already had. Unfortunately, I was pretty much on the direct opposite side of the lake from where I parked the car. So I walked the lower rock trail on the West Bluff. By the time I made it to the South Shore road, my feet were killing me. I limped my way back to the parking lot at the South Beach and headed back to Sauk. When I got to Sauk I figured I could try my parents again. Dad’s shop was still empty, but I managed to catch them just as they returned to the house after being in Baraboo. We ate dinner and they conned me into going up with them to drop off pictures for Doc Evermore. He’d recently had a stroke and is recovering. He would love a piece of cake or to be able to get back to welding. I know this because he told me quite a few times. Doc’s son was moving things around the lot with heavy equipment, so I stayed out of his way and walked around the Art Park. I took pictures as I went, but I’m not happy with how the light turned out. The clouds added to the brightness and I didn’t take that into account. I also had a problem being steady handed and many pictures turned out blurred. I talked to Doc for awhile about various things, which was really interesting because he likes to talk to everyone that comes to see the Art Park. There was a local Madison band there and I can’t remember their name, but there were two brothers and a sister. The brother’s high school art teacher happened to be at the Art Park at the same time. Doc was already talking to her when they came back to talk to him after playing with the Dragon. She immediately knew they were students of hers and they eventually remembered her name. You never know who you’re going to run into. Doc’s Art Park is an amazing place. I promise to get some good pictures of Doc’s Art Park on the site as soon as possible.

I eventually made my way back to Madison to attend a burn stuff in the backyard and drink beer event at Dude and Pete’s house. There were quite a few people there and I really only knew a handful, but it was fun. I wimped out when it came time to go barhopping. My hike at Devil’s Lake took a lot out of me. So I retreated and that night was over.

Sunday was a quiet day. I needed to recover and ended up sleeping through the middle of the day. I eventually got up and went back to Dude’s house to cook lasagna. I don’t know why, but I woke up in the morning with an urge to cook lasagna. I wouldn’t be able to cook that at my camper, so I had to borrow a kitchen. So I cooked that and we ate, and then went to see Alien Vs. Predator. If you haven’t seen it yet, then skip to the next paragraph. So they send in three Predator’s to hunt the Aliens in an ancient arena on Earth. Two die quickly. Did they send in a pair of bench jockeys or what? Was the first string busy doing something else? I’m a little disappointed that they made those two so weakly. The third was much more agile though and lived up to the Predator memories I have from the original movie. The ending was a nice setup for another AVP movie as well.

So now we come to Monday. I went to Jefferson to watch the Packer game at a new sports bar that is owned by friends of my friend Kate. The place is called Score’s and is a really nice place. If you’re around Jefferson or passing by you should stop in. They have great ribs and corn fritters. Tell the bartender that I sent you and they’ll probably ask who I am. Just tell them I’m the guy that was drinking Pabst Blue Ribbon all night out of the coolest goblet known to man. So anyways, the Packer game. I’m still actually waiting for the Packers to show up. I know some guy’s in Packer uniforms where there, but that wasn’t The Pack. By halftime I couldn’t watch anymore and we played darts. I desperately need a dart board. I can throw maybe one good game, but then I’m spent. It’s embarrassing. I killed on the first game of Cricket with more than 200 points over everyone else, but it was downhill from there. First I couldn’t hit the 20’s. Then I couldn’t hit the 16’s. If it wasn’t for everyone else shooting poorly I never would have closed out the numbers and be left with only the Bulls. I didn’t win of course. My inability to close numbers they were scoring on allowed them to gain a convincing point lead and I had no way to win. So I wasn’t playing darts anymore after that. We mingled with the other patrons and we had some interesting conversations about Hanoi Jane, health care and various other things, but it was late and we needed to get home. Hanging out at a bar far from home is usually not a great idea when you have to be at work at 6:30 in the morning. I made it to work with time to spare, but I wasn’t feeling exactly chipper. Better than I probably should have felt though. So go to Score’s, eat the ribs and tip your bartender, even if the bartender is your friend. They’re working, not hanging out with you. And yes the girls working there do look 16, but I was proven wrong about that.

I couldn’t sleep, so I turned on the TV. Sadly I have only the local broadcast stations. While flipping through the channels I noticed something on PBS about chickens and roosters called The Natural History of the Chicken. We live in a crazy world. There are some truly psychotic people that own these birds. I almost vomited I laughed so hard. There was this lady that had a chicken that died and she brought back to life. She was describing what the chicken told her about its near-death experience. She kept the chicken in the house for a few weeks and then returned it to the pen with the other chickens. This lady goes onto talk about what this chicken and the others discussed. It was hilarious. This is just one of the people on this program. I recommend that everyone watches this program. It’s not so much informative about chickens as it’s a haunting and candid look at the people who love chickens and the people who live around these odd individuals. I’ll never feel the same while driving in the country ever again.

I played frisbee golf today. I really don’t know what to say about it. I’m not good. I definitely need practice. I can’t recall a time when it was difficult to throw a frisbee straight and level, except today. I still had a great time though. I wish there were more courses near me. It would be great to have a 72 hole course. You could make a whole day of it.

It seems I have to always remind myself that people I know read this blog and I can’t write everything on my mind. Some things are better left private I guess. I like to blog, it helps me think. I often write something and then delete it as soon as I’ve finished writing it.

The Wisconsin Fish Fry is a dying art. I have yet to find anywhere in Madison that can compare to most small town bars or family restaurants. I think it’s a Dane County problem in general. The area has become too urbanized and now the things that make Wisconsin distinct are becoming lost in popular culture.

Speaking of fish fry, any girl that eats deep fried cod kicks and still looks sexy kicks ass. They should be models. Perfect examples that you can eat an unhealthy meal every now and then and still be sexy. It’s called staying active. I’m definitely not a model of staying active. I’ve gotten kind of lazy during the past couple years. I need to remember that each year I get older and that means I have to work harder to stay fit. I’m in the process of fixing that. I’ve hurt my back twice this year. Both times doing something I could have easily done a few years before. A strained back hurts. That is all the motivation I need to get into shape again.

I am an angry white man. This is not to be confused with a racist or other type of person that is filled with hate as a result of their own insecurities. Hate is different than anger anyways. I am filled with true anger. The things I am angry about are varied, but in all cases it is caused by delusional, stupid, ignorant or lazy people. I stand in awe of how some people reach the decisions they make.

Imagine you own property. You decide to lease it as a residential property. You now have to provide a safe environment for tenants. Obviously some things will be completely out of your control. You can’t stop the sky from falling, but you would think you would be allowed to say “I don’t want convicted violent criminals in my property”. You might think that, but you can’t do that where I live. Now let’s say this convicted criminal doesn’t behave and has unsavory individuals visiting your property and bothering the other tenants. Good luck trying to evict them. Around here, you basically can’t evict unless they stop paying rent. So you’re stuck with them. Stuck with them until the Police Department is tired of complaints involving your property and has the government seize your it. Yes, they take it. You get nothing for it either, zero! Why? Because you are a bad landlord and did not provide a safe living environment. And yes, this has been done in my area. The seized property was used for Police training until it was basically destroyed. Then the Fire Department set it on fire for training. I hope whoever is responsible for the destruction of property rights lives a very long and lonely life.

Do you know that you can get a job not because you are qualified, but simply because of your race or sex? I have yet to find anyone that could tell me why this is the right thing to do. Fine, we have this stupid law. Do you think they would at least try to find the best person for the job and still fill that “minority hire” checkmark? Most companies do, but not the government. Let’s say they’re looking to fill ten positions. Five of these positions must be women with Alaskan native ancestry and have two left arms. If only five Alaskan women with two left arms apply, then those five are hired. They couldn’t just say to the unqualified applicants, “I’m sorry, you’re not qualified” and then leave that position vacant until they find a qualified person that also meets their “minority profile”. I was told profiling is wrong. I guess it’s only wrong when law enforcement does it.

The solution is beyond simple. Make it illegal to have any information on applications that can identify the person’s race, sex, religion or anything else someone thinks causes them to be discriminated. When they go in for the interview, then most of this information will become obvious. At this point some will be discriminated. This is where the second part of the solution comes in. All applications selected for interviews must be submitted to the government to be kept on file. Then the application of the person or persons hired are also sent to be kept on file. If someone complains about discrimination, then the records can be pulled and a proper investigation will discover if there is a pattern of discrimination or not. If a pattern is discovered, then the case should be sent to the courts for judgment and assignment of penalties. Many don’t like my idea however. It removes the loopholes that many have used to get the jobs they now poorly occupy. Imagine everyone getting a job based upon their merit and abilities. I know the TSA would be better off using this system. Take a look at some of the people working security at airports next time you’re at one. I wouldn’t trust half of them to secure a fish tank, let alone our national security.

This process should also be applied to loans, school enrollment and anywhere else that has to limit the number of persons that can “attend” or receive money.

I learned something I should have already known. Starbucks is lame. They don’t have a free hotspot. They have some stupid AT&T thing. No I do not want to pay to have wireless access at Starbucks. I guess they aren’t making enough money on overpriced coffee that is barely better than PDQ. Actually, it’s barely coffee. Just listen to Dennis Leary’s rant about flavored coffee and you’ll understand.

I’ve decided that popular culture needs more class. Whenever someone says or does something stupid, just tell them “eat my ass”. I would love to see this become widespread. I want to come back to the United States and see “EMA” bumper stickers and crappy network sitcom characters yelling “eat my ass” during prime time. Speaking of crappy sitcom characters; I see “Joey” will be starting soon. I’m so unfortunate that I will miss the first season.

I just thought of a great idea for the ever expanding CSI franchise, CSI: Hong Kong. That is the perfect city for the next CSI. Hong Kong speaks English and they could throw in ancient Chinese techniques every now and then. There is also a massive lack of Asian representation on network television. I smell a lawsuit against the media giants coming. Think about all of the Chinese restaurants in your area. They’re everywhere. They wouldn’t be everywhere if people didn’t like Chinese food. If people like Chinese food, then a Chinese based drama should do fine. It would be better than any reality TV show ever done or yet to be done.