Report blasts FEMA deals

Washington | FEMA exposed taxpayers to significant waste – and possibly violated federal law – by awarding $3.6 billion worth of Hurricane Katrina contracts to companies with poor credit histories and bad paperwork, investigators say.

This confirms what we already knew about FEMA — there was a staggering level of incompetence, and the victims of Katrina, as well as taxpayers, are taking it on the chin,” Sen. Byron Dorgan, D-N.D., who requested the audit, said Monday.From TIME Magazine: (AP news)

The continuous barrage of news like that this makes me want to pack my bags and leave this slimy, corrupt shithole. I know there’s corruption in all areas of government and no matter where we live… but at least other cities function despite the corruption. At least they try to hide it behind functional public transit, clean streets and pretty buildings.

I bet other places, people also don’t have tourists throw up on the wheel of their bike while they’re in A&P, buying an apple.

Cephalic Carnage w/ Michael Haaga (Dead Horse) “Turn”

Ok, I have to admit I’m not a fan of ‘Cookie Monster’ metal anymore, but there was a time in my life where that’s pretty much all listened to. One of my favorite bands, Dead Horse, even inspired me to paint a 4 foot tall horse skeleton on my bedroom wall and name my BBS Peaceful Death.


Anyway, I found this video on YouTube from a SxSW last last year. It’s from the Dead Horse album ‘Peaceful Dead and Pretty Flowers,’ Michael Haaga joins Cephalic Carnage for the song, Turn.

Cool shit if you’re into it.

I TOTALLY have to find me another dead horse t-shirt.

By the way, if anyone has any Dead Horse stuff in MP3 format, I’d be interested. Especially ‘Horsecore: An Unrelated Story That’s Time Consuming ‘ – it’s like $36 used! Not in print anymore?

I really didn’t sign up for this much work.

FUCKING LIMES!!!!Oh yeah, I did.


Really, when they said “you’re going to work your ass off” I really didn’t think it was going to be this bad… and it’s not even Saturday. Sunday is going to kill me. Really. If you don’t see a post here for a few days, someone come by my house and feed lydia and plato, because I am probably curlled up in a fetal position somewhere moaning something about Miller Lite and limes.

Fucking limes.

I never want to see another lime as long as I live. Ever. I mean that. I will strangle a bitch if someone ever so much as shows me something lime green after Monday night.

Key lime pie, however, will be allowed. Mmmmm, pie.

Seriously, as completely devistated as I feel, it’s actually really fun. I mean, it’s not hard per-se. It’s just…. constant.

Limes. beer. cups. ice. beer. napkins. vodka. beer. ice. beer. straws. cut more limes. napkins. olives. ice. trash. vodka. limes. limes. beer. limes. cups. napkins. “VINCENT! I NEED MORE LIMES!” beer. ice. trash. vodka. olives and limes and lemons. napkins. straws. “I NEED LIMES!” trash. ice. beer. napkins. vodka. beer. ice. “MORE LIMES!!” Limes. beer. cups. ice. beer. napkins. vodka. beer. ice. beer. straws. cut more limes. napkins. olives. ice. trash. vodka. limes. limes. beer. limes. cups. napkins. “VINCENT! ARE THERE ANY LIMES?” beer. ice. trash. vodka. olives and limes and lemons. napkins. straws. “LIMES! LIMES! LIMES!” trash. ice. beer. napkins. vodka. beer. ice. “WHERE’S MY FUCKING LIMES!?!!”

The coolest thing happened tonight though. As I’m running around, flying through doors and such, this guy at the bar is watching me. Not like checking me out, but watching. (He was cute those, so I was hoping he was checking me out. :)

Then, as I’m in the back icing down the beer, he peeks in the door to the alley. I stop him and tell him he’s not allowed back there. He then says…

“Hey, I was watching you. I work at the Bourbon House(?) and I do what you do. I just wanted to give this to you.”

He hands me a $20 bill.

I had to have some weird expresion on my face, but I managed to say thanks about thirty times and he finishes it off by saying “You’re working your ass off, I can tell.”

It’s weird. I’m doing all of this to make enough money to pay rent next week, kind of expecting a ton of money but at the same time not getting my hopes up and that one comment made it all worth it if I don’t get squat.

I don’t think I’ve ever really worked this much before… and let me tell you, fuck this shit… Give me a desk job anyday. lol

No really. I didn’t get your name (edit: it’s Robert. I saw him tonight and he’s got a husband already), but thanks. Not to be a big whiney baby, but I haven’t really gotten any feedback from the bartenders… so I have no idea if they think I suck or not. None of them have really yelled at me or anything though and I’m pretty sure they know I’m not sitting in the breakroom doing my nails or anything. I guess I’ll find out on Tuesday when I get my money.

Never Refuse A Free Drink (or 13)

I think my grandmother once told me that. Then again, she was always so drunk you couldn’t really understand her.

Last night I made my usual Tuesday Night trip to the Pub for Video Request Night. I had my Obligatory Diet Cokes and was bored an hour after realising they moved Request Night to Wednesday. As I’m walking out the door I see a bar-friend of mine, Randy, who I haven’t seen out in a couple of months. Randy is a music geek like myself, so we always have fun talking about whatever video is on the screen.. who they are, who origianlly did the song, what we were doing the first time we heard it, stuff like that. Since I had company I decided to get screwdriver (1) drink. As I finish my cocktail Randy suggests we go to 80’s Night at Lafittes. As it’s only 9:30 and I didn’t feel like riding home just yet, I agree.

We get to Lafittes and he buys me a Double Kettle One Screwdriver (hereafter refered to as a DKOS.) I finish this, and he buys me another.

Who am I to not follow dear old grandmother’s advice?

After this second DKOS the bartender asks us if we want a shot.

Randy says yes.

It’s basically a concentrated Cosmopolitan, and it was much more than a shot. It was like, half the damn cup.

After I do the shot, there is still half a DKOS in my cup and randy is almost done with his. Randy then says “Bartender. I want something that is going to fuck me up.”

The bartender makes us a Double Tequila Sunrise (hereafter referered to as the kiss of death.)

We drink the kiss of death.

Randy procedes to buy me another fucking DKOS.

It’s like, midnight now, and I’m pretty much toast at this point so I get a diet coke and a water to try to sober up. Oh, and another DKOS. The bartender then asks if we want to try a drink he just made up. I’m not sure what it was, but there was a lot of it. This drink will hereafter be referered to as The Last Thing I Remember.

Next thing I know, Randy is waking me up at the bar, rolling me into a cab and shouting my address.

The entire cab ride home I am repeating to myself “Don’t pass out, don’t throw up. Don’t pass out, don’t throw up.”

I get home safely 5 minutes later. The cab driver giggles as I hand him whatever money is in my pocket ($30 for a $6 fare?) and I stumble to the curb and throw up in my front yard.


Ohmyfuckinggawd it’s like I was in highschool again. Except I didn’t drink in highschool.

In my defense I had the equivilent of 13 drinks and two shots in about 4.5 hours. OMG that’s fucking stupid once I see that in writing. What was I thinking???