So I gotta getta new coffeemakr rite? Rite. Went t th same store I bougt my ol coffeemakr from. Walkd there. Takes a haffour t walk there. They aint got no coffeemakrs like th one jus conkd out on me. Thay got th smartr version of it, clock an timer an all kindsa shit I dont need, fer far more munnyn I was wantin t spend. Smartass store clerk guy come up t me an say thay gots this othr kinda coffeemakr on sale fer only 10 bucks, an wit a mail in rebate its down t only 6. Souns good! I mean whaddo I care if some slave in Chinas gotta crank out one more 10dollr coffeemakr bfore anyone lets im hit da sack tnight rite? An if da mashine turns out t be a piece a crap, well then Im only out 6 bucks, but if it servs me well as my ol coffeemakr did then I gots me a real bargin dint I? Kay, so I bougt it an brougt it home. Nothr haffour walk.
Now you guys bougt stuff onna mail in rebate bfore dintcha? You no how it werk. Theres some kinda dockumentation inda box, onda box, or onda receet thatcha gotta send in t get yer munny back rite? Well I get this coffeemakr home an there aint no dockumentatio nowheres havin nuttin t do wit no mail in rebate. So bfore I evn tare inta th plasticks round th mashine, I gets onda horn wit dat store an a kindly ol lady voice tell me that Is sposta pick up a REBATE BOOK at th fronta th store an thats where allat dockumentation is I gotta send in fer th rebate! I asker Hows I sposta no that when I was in th friggin store byin th friggin mashine, and she say "Oh, I NOooooo" -- real fake simpathetick like, ya no? But aint nuthin fer me t do but walk on back t that store an pick up one a them friggin rebate books cause y no th hole reasen I bougt that mashines cause it seemd a good gamble wit da rebate. I mean were talkin 6 buckski stedda like 30. So Im off. Nothr haffour.
Get t th store an ask th first Inglish speakin forinner I can find wheres em rebate books cause I bougt this coffeemakr an theres sposta be a rebate and I dint no bout them rebate books an I was fully prepard t draw this guy a pitcher if I hadta, but he point an say sompm like "There, Bwanna!" or mabey it was "Kemosobby" but I look over where Aboo is pointn an I see th rebate book IS THE FRIGGIN SUPPLMINT FROM TH DAILY NOOSEPAPR! AN I GETS TH DAILY FRIGGIN NOOSEPAPR! SOMWHARE BACK IN MY PARTMENTS THAT VERY SAME FRIGGIN REBATE BOOK JUSTA WAITIN T BE USED! JUSTA HAFFOUR WALK FROM WHERE I IS!
Evr seen th Tazmanian Devil start wirlin round so fast n hard that e coud like bore rite thru solid rock an stuff? Thats how I leff that store. I dint walk DOWN no iles I FRIGGIN CUTTA CROSSEM! I DONT NO WHAT KINDA DSTRUCKTION I LEFF BHIND BUT IM MAGININ BRUISED DOLLIES BATTERD SANTAS SLOUGTERD RAINDEER AN BLOODYD STORE CLERKS -- NOT T MENTION SHREDDID REBATE BOOKS! YA THINK KINDLY OL LADY VOICED A TOL ME THEM REBATE BOOKS WAS IN TH FRIGGIN NOOSEPAPR, ON TH OFF CHANCE I MITE ALREDDY HAVE ONE AN NOT HAFTA MAKE A NOTHR FRIGGIN HAFFOUR WALK INTA TH FRIGGIN STORE? IF SHE HADDA, IDA WISHD HER AN HER COOLIES A HAPPY HOLIDAY SEASEN AN ENJOYD A FRESH POTTA COFFEE. INSTED I WISH ALLA THEM PLOYEES A HEMMEROIDAL CARCINOGENNICK SIFFALITTICK INCONTINENT CHRISSMAS AN A LEPRUS FUNGLE VNEEREAL GASSY NEW YEAR! AN I HOPE TH HOLLIDAYS COME EARLY FOR EM! AN NOW I REALLY GOTTA GO CAUSE THERE HEARIN CNFESSIONS AT ST MARYS AT 1 ACLOCK THIS AFTRNOON AN IM THINKIN MY SOLES IN MORE PERIL RITE NOW THEN ITS EVER BEEN IN AT ANY OTHER T
mmmmmmmmm ... cofffffffffeeeeeeeee ...
I love th hole werld!
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Sunday, November 27, 2005
BAD NEWS: My coffeemakr conkd out this mornin! Stoppd brewin in MID BREW! I mean I put in enuff coffee an watr t make bout 8 cupsa coffee an after only bout 4 cupsa watr gone thru th dam thing jus QUIT! So I gotta getta new coffeemakr soon.
GOOD NEWS: That las haffa potta coffee was a wa whA HUH w wa wah ha HOOOOOOOOO!
Saturday, November 26, 2005
Friday, November 25, 2005
Nah, dont werry ... I aint off onna nother David Gates tyrade. But perhaps th enda th werlds werf thinkin bout a littl. It mite be comin soonern ya think -- like mabey inna bout 7 years.
Wooncha like t have yer own personle guided tour thru th end times? If ya woud, then ride along wit Hobbs von Wackamole -- th only bloggr fully embedded wit th Four Horsmen an th Beastridin Women a th Apockalips.
You can visit his main blog, 7 Years to Go ......, anytime by clickin th link here, or th one t th right. Click it a lot, cause this guy posts so dam many times each day that by sundown his firs posta th day is affishully considerd arckives!
Fer all th postin he dose ovr there, youd think he woont have so much time t make sucha pesta hisself ovr here at the JPS! Sos you fokes gotta get ovr there an keep im a littl busyer.
You TOO, Hobbs!
Thursday, November 24, 2005
Heres a tip fer alla you Thanksgivin dinnermakers. If yer gravy turns out real lumpy like mine alwas dose, jus do what I alwas do. Make a pointa askin yer guests how thay like th DUMPLINS! If thay say there kinda small, then there realy complimentin ya on yer gravy! If that say there jus fine, then ya got a complment now an sompm t laff hard at later after thay all gone home!
Yer wellcom, Buddies! Happy Givethanksin!
TOIKEYCUTSIN TIPSKI: Bfore ya cuts za toikey, look around. If Unkle Gabriel aint there yet, dont cuts it. Trust me, youll save yer famly a hole lotta headake. Nfact, youll probly save th hole famly soikle.
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
I no yall apreciate me pointn out how fuckd up them lyricks of th song "If" is. But David Gates fuckd up a lot more lyricks too. Siddown an Ill tell ya some more.
Also back in th sevennies he writ a song calld "Diary". Th first verse go like this:
"I foun her di-ry un-der-neaf a tree,
An star-td rea-din a-bout me.
Th werds shed writ-n took me by s-prize.
Youd ne-ver read them in her eyes.
They said that she had foun th love shed wai-ted for.
Woud-n-cha no it?
She woud-n sho it."
So far so good, Davey. We get a voyeristic thrill hearin bout you creepin round readin some chicks diary. No real problems yet. Cept fer th creepin. An th unautherizd readin. An th pazley shirt.
Kay. Then come verse numbr 2. Or mabey its numbr 1, since Davey think theser th same numbr. Well whatevr numbr it is, it go like this:
"Then she, con-fron-td wit her writ-in there,
Simp-ly pre-ten-did not t care.
I passt it off as jus in keep-in wit
Her to-tl dis-con-cer-tin air.
An tho she tried t hide th love that she de-nied,
Woud-n-cha no it?
She woud-n sho it."
Okay here thingsr startn t getta littl fuckd up. David Gates hisself gone on reckerd sayin "There's an unusual word in there: disconcerting. It just fit."
It jus FIT? Whaddya mean "fit"? Fit WHAT? Fit HOW? It certainly dont fit like MAKIN A HOLE HECKUVA LOTTA SENSE! I guess it fits in th sensa havin 4 sylables -- but so dose "David Gates blows", by th way! Nfact, that fits specialy well, cause th nex werd after them 4 sylables is "air". An whats more, "David Gates blows air" dont evn mean th same thing as "David Gates sucks." THATS what I call a real nice fit -- from a David Gates pointa view!
But agen it gets werse fokes! Theres a rfrain that come nex, but there aint nuthin t bitcha bout there, cept its sappy like th resta th song. Then come th finle verse. It gose like this:
"I foun her di-ry un-der-neaf a tree,
An star-td rea-din a-bout me.
Th werds began t stick an tears t flow.
Her mean-in now was clear t see.
Th love shed wai-td fer was somone else, not me.
Woud-n-cha no it?
She woud-n sho it."
Now th weels come off th friggin waggon, Daveski! Ya done tol us already thatchu was readin bout YOU! Notta bout somone ya FIGGERD was you but wunt! YOU, ya fuckr! An ya said she was CONFRONTD wit th writin! Dont tell me she woonta said "It aint YOU, dipstick!" An so those of us that ARE a complishd flossifers hafta conclude from yer lyrick that YOU ARE SOMONE ELSE, NOT YOU! Well IM somone else, not you. An so YOU ARE ME! An my dad was somone else, not you. So YOU ARE MY DAD too! An since my dad an me are bofe YOU, I AM MY DAD! My dads dead. Im a live. So SOME DEAD FOKES ARE A LIVE! Evryone that AINT you IS you! Oh FUCK! There goes th hole law of idennity! Nothin is idennicle wit itself! So Michael Vronsky was WRONG! This AINT this! This IS sompm else!
Werst of all, in th end all things merge inta one. An its David Gates. An a river runs thru it.
Hey! When did The Joey Polanski Show become a friggin rant blog? Thank heaven we got th Thanksgivin holliday comin up on Thersday. Come back then an Ill try t post sompm more plesant.
Like whatcha can stuff up yer turkeys ass.
Yeah, like I give a shit.
Saturday, November 19, 2005
From recent posts ya can tell I been thinkin a lotta bout song lyricks lately. Sometimes em things dont make no fuckin sense, ya no? An I aint talkin bout shit like "Who put th ram in th ram-a-lam-a-ding-dong?" -- tho I coud rite a friggin treetiss on thatn too! Im talkin bout shit thatll make yer fuckin head hurt tryin t MAKE it make sense!
Like heres a fer instance. Back in th sevennies theres a song calld "If" annit was writ by this guy name David Gates from a groop calld Bread. An innit it say:
"If a man coud be 2 places at 1 time, Id be wit you,
Tmorro an tday,
Bside you all th way."
Okay, WHATNAHECK HAPPMD T BEIN IN 2 PLACES AT 1 TIME? This souns a awful lot like bein in 1 place at 2 times, donit?
Tmorro an tday are 2 diffrent TIMES! Got it, Davey?
Annit gets ebm werse fokes! I can see what th guys doin here. He SPACIALIZIN the TEMPRAL dmension! Ya no, like hes thinkin a TIME as if its a fielda SPACE an in th cordinat system theres these 2 points, side by side. Ones tmorro, an th othrs tday.
An so when e say "2 places at 1 time" what e realy sayin is two instants at one an th same instant. So now 2 = 1 an alla mathmaticks jus gone out th friggin windo! Evn numbers are odd. Oddsr even. (7 - 2) = (6 + 5).
An that means were all fuckd. Jus fer the sake a some sappyass song writ by a guy inna pazley shirt an probly real liten th friggin lofers too!
Friday, November 18, 2005
Hey, I red this inna flossifie book:
Whitehead (like Leibniz) thought that in every actual entity there is 'appetition' -- what he called 'a subjective aim at further integration'. Contemporary science, on which he based his philosophical theories, gives no little evidence of universal pressure towards increasing holism; and without committing ourselves to the implication of the terms 'appetition' and 'subjective aim', it seems safe enough to acknowledge the existence of a persistent drive in this direction. In the sphere of life it is abundantly evident and it is this alone which gave colour to doctrines of orthogenesis in their heyday, and such plausibility as it carries to Lamarckism. Evolution does not seem to be forced along creodes, like developmental processes, as the supporters of orthogenesis suggested, but its progress often gives that appearance because it is the result of a constant integrating nisus which incorporates each new and fortuitous change into an already existing system to preserve and intensify its coherence. At the same time the adopted way of life and the various habits acquired by a species are factors playing a part in the process and the restrictions imposed by selection accentuate it. Thus, when environmental pressures have led ungulates to a life on open grasslands, the presence of carnivores exerts a new pressure towards development of speed in locomotion. The total set of circumstances leads to the development of an integrated system of characters: grinding teeth and hard hooves, as well (in some cases) as stomachs elaborately adapted to deferred digestion (cud-chewing), so that rapid grazing in exposed spaces may be supplemented by more leisurely mastication and digestion in comparative safety. The integration into a single pattern of all these characters, maintaining a viable system in a given set of external circumstances, emphasized and channelled by selection, gives the appearance of orthogenesis. So far as the actual course of evolution is directed, under the pressures of selection, persistently towards integration and co-ordination, it is orthogenetic. But in no other way; for flexibility and relevant variation are of the essence of auturgic self-maintenance, and for this very reason over-specialization, closing off alternative paths of advance, ceases to constitute improvement. In each new development in the evolutionary process it is the most generalized and least restricted species that forms the bridge-head for further progress.
Yeah, I got no fuckin clue.
Hey, pull my fingr ...
Thursday, November 17, 2005
Tom Serafini say my musical questions is too easy. TOO EASY?! Ill show HIM!
Now I aint sure a th zackt lyricalitistics here, but I think I can come close enuff. Here gose:
"There is a man,
a certain man,
and for th poor
you can be sure
that hell do all he can.
Who is this one,
this favrit son,
who by his action
got th traction
magnates on th run?
Who likes t smoke,
njoys a joke,
an woudnt get
a bit upset
if he was realy broke?
With welcome fame,
hes still th same.
Ill bet ya five
yer not alive
if you dont no his name.
WHAT IS HIS NAME?"
Atchualy, Tom nose this! I no e nose it! If Tom dont no it, then Ill eat ... well ... I already et my hat (spared th nayber, but thats a hole nother story!). If Tom dont no it, then Ill eat ... Well HECK! Why shoud I eat sompm if Tom dont no it? Let TOM eat sompm if e dont no it! How bout Alices grass skirt? Wanna littl soy sauce onnat, Tomski?
Course, Tom might wanna let th resta you take yer own crack at dis one. Th cheater!
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
It snowd here las night! An its still snowin out there this mornin! An a wintry windsa blowin!
An stuffs gettin all coverd up! I seen my nayber scrapin snow offa her winshield a littl wile ago!
Shes a wife an mother. I sure hope I wont hafta eat her tnight.
But its snowin out there. An a wintry windsa blowin. An stuffs gettin all coverd up.
I realy am a kind an carin nayber. Once Ive et.
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
I gotta give anothr quick pluggy-plug fer Geritopias Bloggy-Blog.
When I firs intraducd ya to it, I mentiond that Gerit aint yet postd no pitcher of a guy wit a inflatd head.
The key werd there was YET!
HE DONE IT!
But bfore ya go check it out, be sure yer aware o Gerits theory on how black holes ar made, cause if ya aint careful lookin at that inflatd head, ya might bcome th nex blackole in th Cosmos!
Monday, November 14, 2005
So Im walkin home after werk an I deside Im gonna take th long way an stop at the grocery jus cause I feel like gettin more exersize then I get from walkin strait home an when Im there Im real thursty from th walk sos I go t where they gots th cold drinks an Im gonna buy sompm like Gaterade or Powerade or one a them thurst quentchers an I see sompm there I aint never seen bfore. Now I ferget what its calld zackly but I magine you seen it bfore yerself. Its like a ennergy drink annit come in these loominum bottls look like cannisters that mabey Sodom Husayns chemicle weppons mighta been stord in or sompm. An I gots no friggin idea what th stuff might tast like cause alla them energy drinks got flavers wit names that dont mean nothin spesifick -- ya no like Arctick Whizz or Mint Jelly Enema an stuff like at. But I buys it anyhow cause I think them loominum bottls look cool an Im so thursty that I opm it up soon as Im outta th store. I no its gonna be grate cause its got like a plastic seal on da cap an when I tare it off it keep stickin t my fingers an then it flys over an stick t my grocery bag -- ya no like theres statick lectricitty comin off th stuff. An when I drink it it blow me a way! Not causa how it tasts but causa how it feel in my mouf. It dont feel like no soff drink thats made basickly outta water, ya no? It feel real winey. Not winey like WAAAAAAAAAA, but winey like wine. Ya no, like its made from real fruitski, but itaint syrruppy like reggaler fruit juic. Im tellin ya its winey. An it get me thinkin bout this TV show I saw once were these 2 guys Ralf an Ed was plannin on guzzlin this bottla wine jus t show there wifes that they was boss an there wifes Alice an Trixy pored out that wine an filld th bottl up wit grap juice in sted but dint tell Ralf an Ed an when Ralf an Ed sent th wifes a packin an got dowwn t there nite a hard drinkin THAY ATCHUALY GOT DRUNK! I mean thay got drunk t th pointa PASSIN OUT, jus cause thay dint NO thay wunt drinkin wine! An Im laffin at that as Im walkin tord home, cause I no I aint drinkin wine. But then I gets t thinkin that mabey a guy can get drunk drinking sompm othr than wine jus cause es thinkin that some guys got drunk drinkin sompm othr then wine, an Im membrin th time I walkd home from my frend Pats house after helpin im sample shampanes when he was plannin is weddin bout a duzzin years ago an Im startin t feel real tired like I gotta lean up agenst a tree fer a seck an Im startin t wonder when Im gonna finely get home an suddnly I see this gang banger kid that lives nex door t me an I offer im a real harty greetin an he say "suppbro" or sompm like at an THEN I no Im cmpletely fuckt up! Im talkin in tungs an I aint able t unnerstand plane inglish no more. An so I start groovin down th block, walkin like theres music playin. Cant realy describe groovin. Slike Im walkin like a kangaroo wouda been walkin if only that kangarooda been walkin like Im atchualy walkin, ya no? But now Im finely home an I gotta say this is one a the weerdest xperiences I ever have an if I thinka it later Im gonna hafta member t rite a blog post an tell you guys alla bout it. Gotta sleep it off firs.
Friday, November 11, 2005
Sbeen a wile since I added a linkski t th blogski, but finely Im reddy t send you fokes somewheres special. I been readin Geritopias Bloggy-Blog fer like th las three weeksr so, gettin creepd out by some pritty scarey pitchers o fake peapl an severd heads an ... well he aint postd no pitchers of a guy wit a inflatd head yet, but if yer gonna see that anywheres yer gonna see it at Bloggy-Blog. I been waitin fer Gerit t bring his nutsycookoo wit over here t th JP Show, an now that he has (see his coments on th las post), hes ernd imself a place among th players. So all you loyle readers no what t do. Swarm all over Bloggy-Blog like a buncha brane eatin gools an see if ya can creep Gerit out a littl.
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
Monday, November 07, 2005
Friday, November 04, 2005
I dont spenda lotta time sittin round talkin wit my cowerkers cause mostuvem ar fuckin assoles an the restuvem ar jus reggaler assoles. But I did get caut up inna conversation wit summuvem th other day cause I was waitin fer a fone call an so I was stuck havin t lissin to em talk an I figgerd I might suffer a littl less if I was like doin haff th talkin my own dam self. Anyhoo we gots t talkin bout are parents an like how summa us look more like are dad an summa us look more like are mom an I said how I look more like my mom than like my dad. Then I said I only got two things from my dad an thems my hair color an my arches. Me an my dad was th only ones inda famly that dint have flat feetski. Well iss chick I werk wit look at me real funny an she say in this real sugjestiv kinda way "I bet ya got at least one othr thing from yer father" an evry one start laffin specialy when I say "Oh yeah whats at?" Well not t put too fine a point onnit fokes, but she was sayin I musta got my dick from my dad -- cause who elsem I gonna gettit from my MOM? She dint have one t gimme far as I no. Course I gottit from dad. But I tolder that dont count cause evryone gets there gentles from there dad. See I no my biolology here fokes, an I learnt not only how babysr made but also what makes em inta chick babys an dude babys. Its chromaphones, ya no like jeans. Its alla mattera jeanettix. Ya get haffa yer jeans from yer mom an th other haff from yer dad, an ifya end up gettin a X chromaphone anna Y chromaphone then ya come outta dude an ifya end up gettin two X chromaphones then ya come outta chick. But see th jeans ya get from yer mom only gots th X chromaphone, so thats whatcher gettin from yer mom no matter what. The jeans ya get from yer dad might have a X chromaphone or a Y chromaphone, so its whatcha get from yer dad that dcides weather yer gonna have dude gentles or chick gentles. Iss chick I werk wit new I was right but she lookt at me so shockt that I got a feelin she dint know what kinda gentles she gots no more. But heres athing: When yer talkin t chicks ya gotta choose yer werds careful like. You can say she gotter gentles from er dad. Jus dont say she gotter dads gentles. Aint th same thing.
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Heres some real profound flossifie for ya:
"The world is everything that is the case." -- Ludwig Wittgenstein
"Everything is what it is, and not another thing." -- Bishop Butler
"Ya see this? This is THIS. This is not sompm else." -- Michael Vronsky
"Theres a big diffrence betveen tvennyfive an tvennysix. Von a them is tvennyfive, and th othr is tvennysix." -- Unkle Gabriel
Anyone up fer a argument on any a dis?