Woodstock 40th anniversary party

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Rockin' It

Far from my best stuff, but here it is:

Check out this video: STRAGGLERS PICNIC 08, CHRIS TAYLOR

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Gus Chiggins

Gus Chiggins

I Really Went Out Like A Punk-Ass

I Really Went Out Like A

Punk-Ass.

by Uncas, son of Chingachgook,

Second to Last of the Mohicans

I’ve had a little time to process the depth of how terribly bad I did in my fight to the death with Magua. Lets face it, it wasn’t pretty. Magua handed me my ass. I got owned, hammered, shellacked, massacred or whatever you want to call it.

I can’t think of any other contest I’ve ever witnessed or been a part of where someone beat someone else so completely and unmercifully. It’s really unprecedented.

Now I’m not one to make excuses, but I wasn’t a hundred percent going in. You can think whatever you want, I’ve heard it all before, but I’m telling you it’s the truth.

A few days earlier, I really jacked up my thumb when we all jumped through that waterfall. Not to mention that the night before I slept wrong on my side and my shoulder was bothering me that whole day. Nobody knew about that part.

In hindsight I almost certainly would not have just tried to rush all those Huron, but they kidnapped the only girl that ever flirted with me. I I don’t have to tell you, but there aren’t a bunch of girls about when you run around the damn forest all day.

I should have tracked them until they made camp for the night and then, with my father and brother, attacked with a well thought out strategy.

But I wanted to be a big-shot in front of my girlfriend. You know, I never had sex with her. We didn’t even kiss. I died a virgin. Pathetic.

When a mohawk dies, his ethereal spirit goes to the council-fire of his ancestors. Getting used to being dead takes quite a while. It’s a terrible sensation. You feel like you’re going to throw up along with a headache.

Now couple that with every ancestor at the council-fire, who had a front row seat to my execution, laughing his ass off about the severity and one-sidedness of my murder. People were high fiving each other, which i thought was a bit much, and

Elder Swift Rain laughed so hard he peed his loin-cloth.

After the laughter wore off, the mood turned to contempt. My ancestors were really angry with how I represented our people, and nobody would speak to me except to rehash and dissect the whole thing almost every day.

So here i am, a laughing stock, the butt of many jokes. If this is my eternity, it's really going to suck. I am waiting for my father, Chingachgook, to take his place at the council-fire of our people, so I’ll have someone to talk to.

The Common Sense Fix by Dave Ramsey

The Common Sense Fix

Years of bad decisions and stupid mistakes have created an economic nightmare in this country,

but $700 billion in new debt is not the answer. As a tax-paying American citizen, I will not support

any congressperson who votes to implement such a policy. Instead, I submit the following threestep

Common Sense Plan.

I. INSURANCE

a. Insure the subprime bonds/mortgages with an underlying FHA-type insurance.

Government-insured and backed loans would have an instant market all over the

world, creating immediate and needed liquidity.

b. In order for a company to accept the government-backed insurance, they must do two

things:

1. Rewrite any mortgage that is more than three months delinquent to a

6% fixed-rate mortgage.

a. Roll all back payments with no late fees or legal costs into the

balance. This brings homeowners current and allows them a

chance to keep their homes.

b. Cancel all prepayment penalties to encourage refinancing or

the sale of the property to pay off the bad loan. In the event of

foreclosure or short sale, the borrower will not be held liable

for any deficit balance. FHA does this now, and that

encourages mortgage companies to go the extra mile while

working with the borrower—again limiting foreclosures and

ruined lives.

2. Cancel ALL golden parachutes of EXISTING and FUTURE CEOs and

executive team members as long as the company holds these

government-insured bonds/mortgages. This keeps underperforming

executives from being paid when they don’t do their jobs.

c. This backstop will cost less than $50 billion—a small fraction of the current proposal.

II. MARK TO MARKET

a. Remove mark to market accounting rules for two years on only subprime Tier III

bonds/mortgages. This keeps companies from being forced to artificially mark down

bonds/mortgages below the value of the underlying mortgages and real estate.

b. This move creates patience in the market and has an immediate stabilizing effect on

failing and ailing banks—and it costs the taxpayer nothing.

III. CAPITAL GAINS TAX

a. Remove the capital gains tax completely. Investors will flood the real estate and stock

market in search of tax-free profits, creating tremendous—and immediate—liquidity in

the markets. Again, this costs the taxpayer nothing.

b. This move will be seen as a lightning rod politically because many will say it is helping

the rich. The truth is the rich will benefit, but it will be their money that stimulates the

economy. This will enable all Americans to have more stable jobs and retirement

investments that go up instead of down.

This is not a time for envy, and it’s not a time for politics. It’s time for all of us, as Americans, to stand up, speak out, and fix this mess.

An editorial from Boba Fett

Think the Life of an Intergalactic Bounty Hunter is all Glitz and Glam? I promise you it is not.

by Boba Fett



First of all, I know what you’re all thinking: ‘isn’t this guy dead?’ I get that all the time. Obviously I am very much alive.

Most of you numb-nuts’ saw me fall in the Sarlaac pit and presumed I died there, but if any of you idiots ever read a little book called “Tales from Jabba’s Palace,” you would know that I escaped and eventually nursed myself back to health. It is one of the most horrific events of my life and I don’t like to think about it, much less talk about it.

My life was screwed from the start. Some jedi butthole cut my dad’s frickin’ head off when I was young. It was all very traumatic.

I still wear his old helmet, you know, and I’ll spare you the truely gruesome details of getting my old man’s decapitated head out of it. All I’ll say is that it took a long time and it still smells terrible.

So here I am; no money, no job and nobody cares. I wanted to be an accountant and mind my own business, maybe get married someday. Well, I didn’t have any money for school or for dates, so it was bounty hunting or starve.

Everyone thinks bounty hunters are rich, well maybe ‘Dog the Bounty Hunter,’ has some cash from his TV show, but I am broke as a joke. I'm livin’ paycheck to paycheck if you can call that livin’ at all.

Everybody loves the jet pack. Oh, they think it's so cool and what fun I must be having. The thing sucks, alright. There is a learning curve that takes time to get used to, I'm talking years. The jet fuel for the pack isn't the same kind everyone uses to fuel their ships. It's hard to find and it's as expensive as all hell. They should rename it 'the Death Pack,' for all the times I've crashed the thing. The fuel gauge on the pack is not accurate and when I'm chasing a bounty I'll run out of fuel and literally fall out of the sky!

I got a landlord up my ass every day of the week. Work is staggered at best. I get a per diem to go find these bounties, but it always runs out before the job is done. So before I even get paid, I’m in the hole. Bills need to get paid and all my credit is maxed.

I paid $400 credits for a work at home plan where I was stuffing envelopes and putting ads in the newspaper. The guy on TV said how easy it was and that he made millions, but it ended up just being a pyramid scam.

My diet is terrible; I’m on the road all the time and have to eat whatever crap is at the spacemart. When you get really hungry you’ll eat all kinds a high fructose corn syrup and bad carbs and all that. I won’t take all my armor off now because I’m afraid I won’t be able to get it back on I’m such a fat-ass.

My self confidence is really low and I don’t do well when I approach women. On top of that, who wants to date a bounty hunter that is gone all the time and poor?

All you guys see is the Glitz and Glamour of this lifestyle, but you wanna know why I hung around Jabba’s place for so long after I delivered Solo to him? It was because I got evicted! That's right, I got evicted from my nasty, hole in the wall of an apartment! I had nowhere to go; nowhere. Not very glamorous, is it?

I gotta get it together, maybe go on vacation and clear my mind. That's just the tip of the iceberg, I see a therapist twice a week. 

It's not at all glamorous, my life is a wreck.

Freestyle Battle Translated

These guys are genius'