Chris Llewellyn – Guitarist Hero

Awesome news, Chris. You shred on a totally different level, oh my brother. Now you, Chris, are my American Idol. Taking down that disturbed man that will now rot in jail for terrorism charges was an act of bravery above and beyond that of any drummer, bass player, or chick singer. You have struck a G Chord in the hearts of children worldwide who wonder if being in a crappy band will ever pan out and bring them fame. You have proven YES IT WILL!

Is it just me or have we heard enough from Tom Cruise? He is the Valkyrie! Watch Tom fly. As I look at his career from asshole college kid to asshole fighter pilot to asshole pool player to asshole bartender to asshole Vietnam vet to asshole race car driver to asshole Irishman to asshole Marine to asshole lawyer to asshole vampire to asshole secret agent to asshole hitman, etc… I realize that the freak has only been in 34 movies. This makes a star? The only thing he has going is his need for media attention, a weird toothy smile, and the fact his ex-wife looks like a Cupie doll. Oh yeah, I forget he is mired in a made-up religion that believes *I* am somehow responsible for the evacuation of the Tryylians from their home planet. (Which can NOT be true because the planet they were inhabiting during the NECESSARY evacuation due to the Gqqserua War was one that they inhabited after the Invasion of Krglahr in which 40000 Vertookz warriors died in prison camps. Don’t blame ME Tom whose-last-name-isn’t-even-Cruise!)

I am starting to get annoyed with people who say ‘actual’ or ‘actually’ when it is completely not a required part of the sentence they are speaking. WHAT? Examples you want?

  • When the girl on the phone at customer service for the power company tells me that in a week, they will be mailing the ‘actual’ check. Well, isn’t THAT fucking pleasant! I would hate to get the FAKE CHECK!
  • When I am at the Home Depot and I ask where a certain kind of screw is, and the lady tells me to follow her to where the ‘actual’ screws are. Crapola! I thought the wooden ladder-looking things in front of me WERE the actual screws!
  • Some guy tells me that the ‘actual’ cost of something is different than what the tag says.

Well, fuck me. I am starting like this ACTUAL thing. I guess the virtual thing was becoming passe, so people started to pay attention to REAL THINGS. Praise the lord for actuality.

If you have time to waste…

Before I get to new kitties, I hadda go through 500+ feedbacks. Check the Litterbox for at least 50 new additions. You will cry, you will laugh. There are the usual happy good job Jim ones, but some classic examples of why this site is not the walk in the park it may seem to be.

So far, this year has brought massive rain and snow and flooding to my beloved Northwest. Which is why I am on the fast track OUT OF HERE within the month. Expect a LARGE batch of new, very poignant and hilarious cats before then. No holds barred! According to the Litterbox entries, I can’t make fun of anything except a cat sitting on a couch, so… it will be a labor of love.

Who am I kidding. The new cats will be as irreverent as always, hating you, me, Obama, Stephen Hawking, Britney, Carl Sagan, Joan d’Arc, The Great Gazoo, The Pet Rock, Kid Rock, Chris Rock, Hard Rock, Sinbad’s Roc, Rock of Ages, the IRS, the IRA and so much more.

How are your New Year’s resolutions holding up? Smoked any crystal meth yet? The way I look at it… if I resolve not to drink booze anymore, I can still lick toads and sniff Liquid Paper. Hey, that is not a family friendly thing to say!

Much love to ALL of you. And I do mean ALL.

Oh, here it is!

It is the new year of us! Hooray we! More kitties who hate you are in the wings. Piles and piles I look at.

The best moment of 2008 you ask? A few for sure for MCHY.

  1. Our book is finally out in its all too MCHY form! Hooray we!
  2. When Karl Rove is explaining how John McCain MUST win Ohio for the Presdiency and is informed that Ohio just went to Barack Obama.
  3. Jim signs the papers to sell his restaurant.
  4. Althea Harvey III enters the family and is prepared for the MCHY Assault on America.
  5. Uhhh… hooray we!

It is a question that lingers like garlic breath: when is someone a porn star? If I were to say to my friend Hans, “Hans, do you know of the one called Harrison Ford?” the answer would come in the form of an affirmative. If I were to say, “Oh my brother, have you known the delights of Eve Lawrence?” he would shake his head with the quaking of the unknowing. But women in these Internet-only adult movie clips, or DVD erotica, or even something shot on film, will refer to themselves as porn STARS, when my neighbor’s wife does now know their name. I suggest that they refrain from casting themselves in the glow of stardom and let an independent body of judges make such distinctions. They are properly low-tiered adult entertainers. Not adult movie actors even, because the art of the XXX movie has left, save for some of Evan Stone and Randy Spears’ work.

“Gandhiji, Gandhiji, ve have come all the vay from London to help your vork.”

“Good my friends, but there vill be much suffering.”

“Gandhiji, for that ve are prepared.”

“Yes, of course. There vill also be much abuse from the British.”

“Gandhiji, ve have lived in London for seven years. For abuse from the British ve are prepared.”

“Excellent. And of course, there vill be MUCH pain.”

“Ve are from Britain! Ve have the best Mackintoshes!”

“No! Not RAIN, you idiots. Pain… PAIN! There vill be much pain!”

“Ahhh. Then ve must be leaving, Gandhiji, because for that, ve are NOT prepared!”

*shuffle out of the room*

Goodbye Coach!

Here in Seattle we say goodbye to Coach Holmgren today. Our lopsided loss in Arizona is a fitting end to the season that we thought would never end. I may speak for all Seattleites when I say “Goodbye Coach Holmgren and Mr. Mora, help us all!”

We have suffered for years with the West Coast Offense, which I believe is offensive. Coach, thought I appreciate all you have done for us, including a Super Bowl that we were silently screwed out of, it is time for you to spend time with your family and leave us in the Northwest to put some salve on our wounds and move forward.

4-12, wow! Is this the Seahawks we have come to love? In a word, yes. Seattle is cursed in how many ways? A baseball team that wins 116 games and can’t make it to the big show. Our loving mayor gives away our basketball team for 40 million. The last championship we had was our WNBA team (yum yum Lauren Jackson). What to do? Start over. Jim Mora is our new coach and I hope he gets away from the conservativeness of Coach Holmgren and expands our playbook.

Go San Diego!

Awesome HoliMasUkkahNza!

As it is the tradition at MCHY to insult and denigrate all cultures and people equally, we shall call today HoliMasUkkahNza, because it is also our tradition to bring cultures together in union. Of course, that is only so that we may cast fun at them collectively and save calories.

So, we say on this day, Awesome HoliMasUkkahNza to you all!

It is snowing in MCHY-land (Seattle) and is making life miserable for your lowly narrator. People say if I had children it would be so much more different… fun in the snow!

Hey, if I had kids a LOT would be different. The laundry would be done every week, there would always be a fresh beer in my hand. The driveway would be shoveled and I would have a regiment of snow warriors guarding my abode. I would sleep well at night, knowing my children were standing watch at specified posts throughout the house, armed with taser guns and flash-bang grenades, lest an intruder attempt to disturb my respite. Oh yes my lovelies, if I had children it would be a different world indeed. The thing is… how to beget an army of mercenaries without the involvement of the opposite sex? Until that is figured out, I will gripe and whine about the snow.

There will be more cats this evening for your HoliMasUkkahNza pleasure.

Don’t forget to buy the My Cat Hates You book at your local book dealer! It makes the perfect HoliMasUkkahNza gift (which lasts for 2^5 or 0x00100000 days).

Remember: when John Walsh cries… EVERYBODY cries.