I consolidated the stories about Fred.


...long live, Hill Blocks View. I miss writing. But the thought of one more round of "welcome backs", or obsessing over stats, or thinking of the clever response to a comment, or the obligation to read everyone else's blog... not so much. So I'll try and write. No pressure. If you feel the need to respond, you can email me. I like email. flipaul@yahoo.com

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Monday, November 28, 2011

World's Worst Inventor.

My inventions all suck.

My time machine failed. I mean it took me back in time, but I ignored myself and still looked ridiculous in my wedding pictures.

I was always worried that people would know when I was on vacation, so I built a robot that would turn on the lights and watch TV and whatnot. Instead, the damn thing got all introspective and spent it's time pondering the meaning of existence, writing poetry and theorizing if it had a soul or not. Worthless machine.

Lastly, I was tired of drinking warm beer while tailgating. So I built a portable cooler powered by cold fusion, that would never run out of energy. It worked, but my team sucks and I stopped going to the games. Now, I just use it to store my recycling in.

I am such a loser. I can't do anything right.

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

A Black Eye For Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays of the year. I love gathering together with family and friends, eating food and giving thanks, or whatever. And watching football, and sitting around with a full belly and my pants unbuttoned. (Or off.) And having a few beers. (Or a few more beers.) And then going out in the yard and having a friendly game of football. And getting into a fight because they think that it's not OK give my 13 year old niece the fore-arm shiver as she comes across the middle of the defense. (Hey, if you don't want to play with the big dogs, stay on the porch.) And then going back into the house and having some dessert and some wine and watching some more football. (Where did I put my pants?) And then getting into a fight with Cousin Lou, because he has the audacity to think that maybe we have watched enough football and that we could help the women clean up the kitchen. (Pansy.) And then later, standing on the front porch and lovingly bidding my family farewell until next year. (Or that's how I remember it. According to my wife I stumbled out, yelled some obscenities at Grandma, puked, and then pitched forward into the begonias.)

   For some odd reason my wife doesn't share my enthusiasm for Thanksgiving. I guess she doesn't care about family and giving thanks and stuff. Next year she says we're celebrating it in Cancun. Oh, correction. Next year SHE is celebrating it in Cancun.

Monday, November 21, 2011

Guest Post by Josh Meares

Josh is my friend. He has his own blog, but his is filled with big words and complex thought-provoking questions about spirituality and God such as; why do American Christians act like such jerks sometimes? He wrote a post about decidedly less spiritual things. It is kind of weird, so naturally he thought of me. Thanks. I think. Without further ado (hee hee, I said "a doo") I present, Josh Meares.

Some things seem obvious to me, but they are obviously not obvious to other people.
Perhaps because I am dumb.
Perhaps because they are dumb.
Perhaps because truth is relative and we are all right in our own way.
These things make me want to yell. Here are some examples. Please excuse my excessive use of all caps.

It seems obvious to me that if you are turning right AND YOU HAVE YOUR OWN LANE TO TURN INTO, you don't have to stop, you don't have to look at the light, you don't need to look around. JUST GO! There is a CONCRETE BARRIER BETWEEN YOU AND ONCOMING TRAFFIC! YOU HAVE YOUR OWN LANE!!!!

It seems obvious to me that everyone gets through a stoplight much faster if you stay as close as possible to the car in front of you. That means PAY ATTENTION PEOPLE! HIT THE GAS WHEN THE LIGHT TURNS GREEN! And yes, I feel like you should get a reward every time you RAM SOMEONE who is SITTING AT A GREEN LIGHT TEXTING!
GREAT JOB, truck driver! SMASH TEXTERS! Copyright BBC News
It seems obvious to me that everyone gets where they are going much SLOWER on the freeway when people follow too closely. It causes these things called PHANTOM JAMS that everyone HATES and they can cause the whole highway to slow to a crawl for NO REASON. LOOK IT UP PEOPLE! Leave some distance!
Phantom Jams are much scarier than the Phantom Menace. Though I do start glowing red when I get trapped in one.
It seems obvious to me that every traffic light should change either to flashing yellow (for the big street) or to flashing red (for little street) after 8:00 pm. There is NOTHING more frustrating than running a red light at an absolutely empty intersection at 11:45 pm because the tic developing in my right eye was growing more irritating the longer I sat at the dumb red light and the voices in my head were growing louder as they screamed "sacrifice! .. Sacrifice! ... SACRIFICE!"  
Oh, wait, I forgot. There is ONE THING that is more frustrating than that. 
By Josh Meares at Musings of the Stupidest Smart Guy I Know.

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Local Third Grader Kills Thirty, During Smart Car Fueled Temper Tantrum.

On Wednesday, Police in the quiet upscale town of Potemkin, California arrested 8 year old Jack Conners. Jack was booked into the Nebulous County Detention center. The DA plans on filing 30 counts of involuntary manslaughter charges against young Mr. Conners. In a statement to the local press, Capt. Drebin of the Potemkin Police Force, said that Jack Conners surrendered without a struggle. "We lured Jack out of the McDonalds playland with a four piece McNuggets Happy Meal. He had holed up in the ball pit after leaving the scene of the Massacre".
     As Jack was led away in cuffs, the scrawny 70lb. kid in the Spongebob T-Shirt and mullet, hardly looked like someone capable of singlehandedly killing 30 people. The fact that this small, some would say uppity, community is overly concerned with letting others know they have small carbon footprints, led in great part to the massive loss of life.
     The following account is pieced together from eyewitness accounts and what Jack told his court appointed counselor. The incident began shortly after 3pm, as Jack walked home from Steven Wright Elementary. Jack reports that after a bad day at school, he was just trying to get home and watch Phineas and Ferb, and eat some of his leftover Halloween candy, when events spiraled out of control.
     The Starbucks near Jack's house was having a Free, Free-Trade Venti Vanilla Chai Soy Latte Day with purchase of a dog sweater, made by blind lesbian hemp farmers, for an impoverished dog in Central America, and the parking lot was full... of Smart cars.
     It was a regular convention of socially conscious bumperstickers. "Obama" crowded "Free Tibet" and "Tolerance", "Random Acts of Kindness" rubbed shoulders with "eARTh", while "War Never Solves Anything" fought for space with "If You're Not Outraged". And all the Smart cars those bumperstickers were attached to, were lined up out into the street. And they were blocking Jack's path.
     Jack waved to catch the attention of a severe looking lady driver who was blocking the sidewalk and tried to squeeze between her car and smart car in front of her, but she gave him a dirty look and inched her front bumper until it touched the "My Pomeranian is smarter then your honor student" on the bumper in front of her. Jack tried to climb over, but she laid on the horn and called him "a mindless little piece of consumer white trash".
     It was all too much for Jack, he snapped. Jack stomped his feet and clenched his hands and then gave the offending car a good stout, eight-year-olds push. The driver's smug look gave way to surprise, as her car tumbled across the parking lot. It might have ended there, but the next car in line accelerated into the vacant spot, and the sidewalk in front of Jack was once more blocked.
     What came next, was a grisly ballet of fire and crumpled metal, as a frustrated eight year old took out his aggression on pretentious fifty-year-olds and their ridiculous deathtraps.
     When it was over, the green movement had 30 less patronizing, bitter followers. And a young man's life will never be the same.

Monday, November 14, 2011

Confessed Killer, Denies Trying To Destroy Evidence

Bunny doing what she loves best...
aside from the face stabbing.

Bunny "Facestabber" Esquivel-Lundqvist, who has been charged in the grisly murder of her lover, her other lover and the pizza guy (she was hungry), has apparently confessed to the killings. However Bunny has refused to accept a plea deal from the DA because the litany of charges include; "intent to destroy evidence and conceal the commission of a felony."
   Bunny readily admits to buying 2 gallons of industrial strength bleach, and spending approximately 9 hours cleaning up her apartment on the day after the murders. But according to sources close to the investigation, Bunny denies that this was in an effort to conceal the killings, and instead she contends that she just likes to keep a clean house. Co-workers who we contacted, who were initially surprised that Bunny was capable of such heinous crimes as she was quiet and mostly just kept to herself, described Bunny as being a fastidiously clean.
   The police report from the crime scene would tend to back up Bunny's account. According to police after the murders Bunny dragged the bodies out of her front door and simply left them stacked on the stairs, where they remained for several days. Asked why they didn't report three dead bodies lying in the street for almost 70 hours, the neighbors in this trendy college town, responded that they thought the three were "endurance planking", and several even joined in for a picture.

What you call meme, we call evidence of murder.

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

A List Of Things That Make Me Angry. Or At The Very Least, Mildly Perturb Me.

Anger is a staple of being a Blogist. Blogger. Blog-ite. Whatever. And since I don't have time to put together the blog post I really wanted to write; a charming little story about how I came to be the dictator of a Banana Republic, not the store, but a small Central American country; and since lists are popular, I wrote the following piece of dreck.
Winter: Being a plumber in winter sucks. I was gonna move to equatorial Africa where it's warm, but apparently there isn't much call for plumbers in a place where indoor plumbing is largely non-existent. On a side note; there also isn't much of a call for writers that aren't talented or clever, with terrible punctuation.

Harold Camping: He's the world is ending guy, and he says he's not going to make anymore predictions. Selfish jerk. That's bad for me, because the blog I wrote about him gets like 100 views every week he says the world is going to end. (It's called Man Correctly Predicts The End. Sort Of., if you were looking.)

Politics: Can't all you sheep, see THEY totally ruined this country? THEY made me so mad I took to the streets, I even held up a sign. THEY think they are like Jesus, but they aren't; THEY are more like Hitler. Argh. Mad. Yelling. Angry.

Time: There isn't enough. I have to choose between my family, working on my blog and drinking beer while watching sports. If I had a couple of more hours a day, I wouldn't have to listen to my kids whining about how I never read to them. Or attend their various events. Or tuck them in. Or learn their names.

Money: Why haven't any of you greedy bastards given me any of yours? You probably have more than you need, and here I am struggling to put lobster in my children's mouths, re-plate my gold plated Land Rover, or even pay the maid at the vacation house.

Reality TV: It makes me so mad. I just sit there hour after hour, watching and yelling at the TV for being so stupid. Who watches this crap?! If I could remember how to access the data in a paperback book, I would totally go read instead.

Anger: What a stupid invention! Anger just makes me so damn angry! My damn kids just walk around the house yelling at each  other, I have to scream at them to make them stop.

So go ahead, comment. Just don't make me angry. You won't like me when I'm angry. 'Cause I whine a lot. Although, I kinda whine a lot, even when I'm not angry. And come to think of it, most people don't like me... ever. So, I guess never mind. Fire away.

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Sycophants Wanted. Sucking-Up And Flattering Skills A Must.

Charlie Sheen, Mike Tyson, and Britney Spears have all been in the news as stars that had some amount of fame and then turned into train wrecks before our eyes. They came to ruin because they could not control their finances and had seemingly lost all contact with reality. They went over the edge, accompanied by a cadre of yes-men. Perhaps, if they had even one person in their corner who told them the truth, their ruin could have been avoided.
     I have long said, that when I get famous, I would have at least one friend to follow me around and keep me grounded. Somebody to let me know what was really going on around me. A voice of reason amongst all the boot lickers and hangers on. Now I say; Screw that!
(This is only a screenshot. Video won't play. Just sayin'.)
     Those stars that went crazy before our eyes? They didn't surround themselves with sycophants on accident. They systematically and intentionally got rid of anybody that didn't toe the line and tell them that they were the greatest thing ever. And do you know why?
     Because, it's frickin' great! People telling you how great and talented and funny you are, feels incredible! So I've completely changed my mind. From now on, if you aren't gonna tell me things I want to hear, I am not listening. If you are a delusional minion who would like to worship my awesomeness, apply now. The position doesn't really pay anything... yet. But when I do make it, I promise you will be able to accompany me on the downward trek to the poorhouse and then onto rehab.

And what a ride that will be. Good times.