Dumb Information

The B-52’s

Posted in Air Force, Asia, death, Drinking, Dumb Information Hall of Fame, guns, Hall of Fame, Men, Military, War by Chop on 9 February 2009

You all must be growing tired of the same old thing, I know. It is hard to watch, or hear, or read the same thing over and over and over without wanting to slit your own wrists just to make the pain go away. Though as for that the passing there had worn them really about the same, as Robert Frost so eloquently put it. DI heard your cries, and took action. Our Hall of Fame inductee, although possessing many human characteristics, is not of this world. It was born from the imagination; it was born of steel and bolts, and became the greatest in its class, far outliving the competition, and still remains active to this day.
With absolutely no introduction required, I present to you the B-52, and I am not talking about the “Love Shack” one. The Boeing B-52 Stratofortress, nicknamed BUFF for being big, ugly, fat, with the last F being silent, sort of (feller for all you southern folks). The Strato rolled off of the production line ready for action in 1955, giving the American Air Force a deep offensive jet powered threat unheard of at the time.
General Nathan Twining, Air Force Chief of Staff from 1953 to 1957, said it best as “the long rifle was the great weapon of its day……Today this B-52 is the long rifle of the air age.” General, if you could hear us today in 2009, it would be the exact same thing, as the B-52 is still alive and flying high. The United States Military, over the course of the past century, has made costly purchases that never panned out, but got there monies worth and more with the old faithful Strato.
The B-52, among other things, is a veteran of several foreign conflicts, to include Vietnam and the Gulf War. In February of 1991 in support of the Gulf War, Barksdale AFB in Northwest Louisiana launched a pack of B-52’s which flew a nonstop combat mission, at the time the longest in history, striking targets inside Iraq. 14,000 miles and 35 hours later, the B-52’s touched down safely back at Barksdale. The B-52 holds the current record of the longest combat mission of 16,000 miles, a mission from Guam to Iraq and back to deliver critical blows to Baghdad power stations in support of Operation Desert Strike.
The Stratofortress has also outlived several of its replacements like the XB-70 and the B-1 Lancer. Mission after mission, the Strato’s performance far exceeded the rest of the pack, proving that age is not necessarily a bad thing. It is one of only five aircraft to have to have 50 consecutive years of service, with a projected future until at least 2040, which would give it an astounding 85 years terrorizing the skies of America’s enemies.
Far outclassed and outran by its want to be successors, the B-52’s mission readiness rates have hovered around the 80% mark, showing the B-1 Lancer (53%) and B-2 Spirit (26%) who the true giant of the sky is.
Most Buff’s in the current fleet are twice as old as the pilots who fly them, with the possibility of one day the men and women who call the beast home for hours at a time could affectionately refer to them as Grandma and Grandpa. A true hero and deserving HOF member, welcome aboard aircraft commander of the skies.
And last but not least, the B-52’s popularity across the nation resulted in a the naming of a viciously strong strain of marijuana, a multi layered cocktail shooter including Baileys Irish Cream, as well as the hit rock band B-52’s, being named for the shape of a beehive hairdo resembling the nose cone of the air king.
DI Pride, until next time; do you own research, and form your own opinions.

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OH CRAP! That Causes Cancer?!

Posted in Conspiracy, death, Health, Medical, Men by Chop on 9 February 2009

Masturbation causes prostate cancer, Mary Jane causes testicular cancer.

Two recently released studies have shown that both masturbation and marijuana can either speed up or directly cause different forms of cancer. Face it DI Pride, I wont be writing for much longer. Thanks for the memories.

You’ve had a Good Run

Posted in Asia, Comedy, death, Dumbass, Hollywood, Movies, rant, Series, Sport, TV by Chop on 9 February 2009

I was performing a little channel surfing last night and ran across a day old version of Saturday Night Live, a once great collaboration of skits sporting the likes of Will Ferrell, Adam Sandler, Chris Farley, Rob Schneider, Chris Rock, Mike Myers, Ben Stiller, Kevin Nealon, Bill Murray, Dana Carvey, Damon Wayans, Jon Lovitz, Robert Downey Jr., Billy Crystal, Jim Belushi, Joe Piscopo, Eddie Murphy, Dan Aykroyd, John Belushi, Chevy Chase, and Gilda Radner (this list could go on indefinitely).
I was able to stomach the first four episodes, along with “I am going to have sex with your wife” game show skit. I learned, about two minutes into the skit, that I no longer cared about what was going on with the actors and actresses, but actually how many of the live audience members were showing their appreciation for the skit with laughter. I could hear clearly, as I personally made no sounds of enjoyment towards the show. There was, however, one or two in the background showing their gratitude, but one did sound like he was choking, possibly on a Polish sausage, and not at all laughing at the skit in front of him. No one was laughing any more; people just sat back, watched the skits, and clapped when they were over. I agreed, as most if not all of the skits did not seem funny anymore, some actually bordered on pissing me off for the simple fact that this show is making money hand over fist and putting out this kind of crap on a weekly basis. This leads me to my question, is there any originality left in this country?
I see skit after skit of the same crap, just giving me different faces and names. I see skits about a game show where the host sleeps with the contestants wife, and that’s the entire plot. Seriously, where is the originality in this? Where is the fire that the likes of Aykroyd and Belushi gave us, where is the coke coming out of my nose kind of laughter that Sandler and Farley gave us?
This industry finds something that works, and then pounds it into the ground as long as they can to squeeze every cent they can until they absolutely have to figure something else out to sell. If you don’t believe me, think of the following.
Friday the 13th, not just birthdays for several of my loved ones, but a horrifying movie in 1980, performing so well at the box office that Hollywood figured they could squeeze just a little more juice from its popularity. Then came Friday the 13th Part 2, Part 3, The Final Chapter, oh wait A New Beginning, low and behold Jason Lives, and he has The New Blood, then Jason Takes on Manhattan, then finally Jason goes to Hell, holy crap a Jason X, and if you weren’t tired of it by now he took on Freddy in Freddy vs. Jason, and now we have to endure yet another Friday the 13th, 2009 style. 12 movies, based off of the same crap, although Hollywood did have to sit down and figure out what town or village to pillage each time.
Yet another example of Hollywood’s creativity is the Rocky sextology, a six shooter starting from the streets of Philadelphia, traveling as far as Siberia to battle the Russian machine that was Ivan Drago, winding up back on the same streets swapping fists with Tommy Gunn, and finally dying out (hopefully) after a gut wrenching tear jerking split decision loss to Mason “The Line” Dixon in Rocky Balboa, the sixth such Rocky movie. Although I admit that I can name all of Rocky’s opponents off the top of my head and have seen all of his fight flicks, it still shows the complete lack of creativity when it comes to newness.
Creativity and originality is what made Hollywood, with the likes of movies such as Cast Away and The Blair Witch Project; the likes of shows such as The Family Guy and American Dad.
I know in my case that I have taken in so much of the influential people in my life, in order to create my own style. It’s all about a creative originality, go out and make your own.

The Day that Baseball Died

Posted in Baseball, death, Drugs, Sport, Strike by Chop on 9 February 2009

Give it up already.
This new baseball steroid scandal reeks of so much wrong, it will be very difficult to put in one article. But being the writer that I think I am, let’s give it a shot.
First, Alex Rodriguez has been implicated as yet another steroid needle ninja, as unconfirmed reports leaked that he tested positive for Primobolan and testosterone in what was meant to be an anonymous testing in 2003. Nearly 1,200 players were tested to determine if a mandatory random drug test sport wide would be necessary.
Records sealed and tucked away nicely in some drawer at a drug lab, only rearing their ugly head once again because baseball and the rest of the free world want to see Barry Bonds burned at the stake Joan of Arc. As the Yahoo report stated, “The government is trying to prove Bonds lied when he told a grand jury he never knowingly took performance-enhancing drugs.”
Baseball, get over it. Government, find something else to focus your attention on, say people trying to blow cars up in Arkansas or people trying to blow cars up period.
Second, the only real issue we here at DI see with Mr. A-Rod is the fact that he left a smokin’ hot wife for the washed up material girl Madonna, sweet move Hot Rod.
Third, and likely most important, Jose Canseco wrote a book. “Vindicated: Big Names, Big Liars, and The Battle to Save Baseball,” hit the bookshelves in 2008 claiming that Canseco introduced the Rodster to a drug dealer, possibly Tyrone Biggums. Although I have not read the book (I really don’t look forward to seeing a bunch of Crayola marks on notebook paper unless it comes from one of my children) I am betting, sorry Charlie Hustle, that there is nothing about getting his face caved in during his brief yet entertaining professional fighting career, or giving up a home run with his hard as a brick skull, or blowing his arm out in his half an inning or so performance for the Texas Rangers.
Fourth through ninth, Rodriquez was quoted as saying “you’ll have to talk to the union” in regards to the current issues at hand. The Baseball Players Association, formed in 1953, has assisted the game and fans with such cool things like massive uncontrollable salaries for athletes, three work stoppages as players were stroking, I mean striking, and the cancellation of a World Series because of inhumane working conditions and benefits. The players union has the sport in such a stranglehold that it is slowly but surely killing it. The fact that it is not run like any other company world wide gives it that sour in your mouth kind of feeling to the massive fan base, the fan base that buys tickets and jerseys, and the fan base that falls asleep with a beer in their laps watching that nail biter on T.V. If someone pops positive for a random drug test, suspend them, hit them hard in the wallet. If they do it again, get rid of them, just as the rest of the working nation would do. The union, acting in the best interest of the athletes, have padded their pocketbooks and raped the consumer, us fans that have stayed devoted to the game through all of the work stoppages and all of the drug scandals and all of the “I have to sit out of this game because I have turf toe” episodes these new age pansy ass crybabies have played out. Babe Ruth could swig back a fifth of Kentucky’s finest, get run over by a truck on the way to the ballpark, and still go 4-4 with 3 touch all of em’ kind of swings, saving the puke fest for after the game. These days, with all the advances in modern medicine and the unlimited access to the dreaded “steroid”, players, with the exception of Iron Cal, can’t give us a fresh nine innings any more for fear of breaking a nail. But we as the consumer have to sit back and take it up the tailpipe, because in the famous words of A-Roid, “you’ll have to talk to the union.”
Tenth, I believe that this is the final straw, the inevitable baseball implosion that the owners and players union created. The game that I grew up loving so much, the days at the minor league ballpark cheering on the Shreveport Captains, buying overcharged and undercooked hot dogs that were the greatest tasting food on the planet because I was sitting next to my mom and dad watching Charlie “Willie Mays” Hayes, those days are but a memory now. The days that superstars stopped by after the game to talk to me because my dad performed some dorky dance flagging him down, those days are gone, but thanks for the memory anyways Andy Benes from the Wichita Wranglers. I will never forget those days, just as I will never forget the sport that I loved for so long. I will however get over it, move on with my life, and try and forget about all of the scandals, the tirades, the Will Clarks of the league pushing a kid out of the way because they are being bothered for a signature on one of their own baseball cards, that was me by the way Big Will; I will try and stuff all of that crap deep inside a shoe box, lock it up, and throw away the key, because, if only just for me, this is “The Day that Baseball Died.”
Obituary – 8 February 2009
Professional Baseball
Every Town, USA – Services for Professional Baseball, 133 give or take a few, will not be held. There will be no one officiating, as fans and priests will try and move on with their lives and find something else to dump money into, possibly WWE.
The Baseball family, however, will continue to accept visitors to its website to show respect.
Baseball entered into rest on Sunday, February 08, 2009, across the nation after a long fight with greed and stupidity.
Major League Baseball was born in 1876 across America, and was preceded in death by its father Abner Doubleday and millions of faithful fans and players.
Left to cherish its memories are its loving fans that still live, including me, as well as the owners and players who assisted in its death.
Baseball earned respect and love during the early 1900’s, but began to fail in its old age due to player strikes and multi-billion dollar contracts. After the strike of 1994 that halted World Series play, baseball slipped into a coma, recovering only for a brief moment during the Mac Attack and Sosa Swat summer of ‘98. Shortly after that, baseball became addicted to drugs (primarily steroids), working itself in and out of rehab, but its old age finally gave in to the greed and stupidity.
The Baseball family would like to express their appreciation to all who loved it, and all who enjoyed those dog days of summer at the Old Ballgame. Baseball would also like to thank Mark McGuire, Sammy Sosa, Roger Clemens, Raphael Palmeiro, Barry Bonds, and Alex Rodriguez for giving it one last fighting chance at life.
Pallbearers will be the ghosts of Babe Ruth, Rogers Hornsby, Mickey Mantle, Ty Cobb, Satchel Paige, and Cy Young.
Honorary pallbearers will be the ghosts of the remainder of Major League Baseball, those who gave us the memories that we will forever cherish.
In life Baseball did such wonderful things, so it is with great sadness that we bury it today. Heroes Funeral Home