Random News
by Scott Hardie on November 7, 2006
Russian reporter murdered by the state. When I observed to a Bulgarian friend that Russia seems to be sinking back into its old fascist state by breaking one inviolable law at a time, he remarked that it always was that way and always will be that way. Whatever things we may dislike about our Congress or President, thank goodness they don't murder us for saying so.
Police chief ousted for telling his staff to lose weight. We live in overly sensitive times when the freakin' police can't take name-calling. Sure, there was probably more to his dismissal than just the one memo, but that job demands fitness and he said nothing unprofessional.
Bill Murray attends student party. I'm not a big fan of his, but even I can acknowledge that he is sometimes the coolest man on Earth. This smells staged but it's a neat story anyway.
Kevin Federline: "If you want to hate me, cool, hate me." All right. I'm not a big fan of his, and I'm ready to acknowledge that sometimes he is the uncoolest man on Earth.
Logical Operator
The creator of Funeratic, Scott Hardie, blogs about running this site, losing weight, and other passions including his wife Kelly, his friends, movies, gaming, and Florida. Read more »
Summer of Suck II
Science says that complaining is bad for you, but sometimes it helps me feel better, so I'm going to do it anyway. It's my blog and I can cry if I want to. Summer has arrived and I'm miserable. Go »She Can Really Whip a Donkey's Ass with a Belt
I hate the Black-Eyed Peas. You hate the Black-Eyed Peas. But Alanis Morissette really hates the Black-Eyed Peas. Go »Música de la polca
"I had to chaperone the prom at the high school where I worked. Most of the kids at that school are Hispanic, so they got to choose the music. You'd think they'd want to listen to hip hop or techno or something cool. Go »Going Green
This thing might turn out to be as short-lived as my other two attempts at a personal blog, but damn it if I haven't craved having such an outlet for the better part of a year now. It seems like a week doesn't go by that I don't have some little adventure to turn into an anecdote or a frustration to rant about. My idle thoughts are as pointless as anybody else's, I realize, but that's what the Internet is for (besides porn). Go »R.I.P. Mom
You were so still in your bed when I could finally sit down beside you, a few hours after the facility notified me that you had died. I hadn't seen you be that peaceful in years, your eyes not scanning the room for clues, your hands not turning over each object in front of you for endlessly repeated examination. I whispered to you the most urgent and most precious things I had to say, the secrets and atonements and wishes foremost on my mind. Go »
