The Thom's 4th Anniversary Spectacular

The title for today's post is probably a little misleading, since I'm not quite sure how spectacular it's going to be. I just wanted to give a little shout out to Megan and me for being married for 4 years. It's been great. Seriously, being married is one of the best things that's ever happened to me. I love having someone there to support and at the same time challenge me. Marriage has made me a better person, and although it hasn't always been easy, it has been the most rewarding experience of my life so far. So, before this gets too sappy, I just want to give an extra big thanks to Mrs. Megan Thom for putting up with me so far, and I hope that you can continue to do so for many years to come. I love you very much.

And speaking of marriage, there seems to be a bunch weddings coming up. Five couples that I'm friends with are all tying the knot this year. So, to the future Mr. & Mrs. Burt, Mr. and Mrs. Cowman, Mr. and Mrs. Davidson, Mr. and Mrs. Schweiger, and Mr. and Mrs. Weinert, I want to say congratulations and best of luck.

Now, I'm not going to give you any marriage advice, but I will offer up some wedding day advice. First, remember to eat. Seriously, Megan and I were famished after our wedding and ended up having to order Domino's pizza, as it was the only thing we could get at our hotel. Second, never set your drink down. I started to drink at least 7 beers, but probably only consumed the equivalent of 1 beer. Ever time I took a drink of one, I had to set it down to go do something, and when I came back, it would invariably be gone. I think that some 13-year-old probably was getting lit at my expense. My only hope is that the little bastard was not feeling too good the next morning. And finally, and most difficult, relax and enjoy yourself as much as possible. You're only going to do this once, so savor it.

Oh, and if and when you go on a honeymoon, make sure you have a buffer day. When Megan and I got back from Italy, I went back to work the next day. This was not a good idea. We were on planes or in airports for 22 hours and didn't get back in to Omaha until 9:30 PM. I went back to work the following day, and got the sickest I've been in years. I'm not going to go into graphic detail, but I have 2 words for you: "projectile vomiting." It was so bad, I got 2 black eyes. Don't do it, stay home, and you'll be much happier.

That's all I got. Again, best wishes and welcome to the club.

Awesome... I F*&%in' Bought That

Have you ever liked a band or performer so much that you thought they could do no wrong? Have you ever been so in to something that it caused you to make questionable purchases? Purchases that seemed like a can't miss idea at the time, but ended up being either disappointing, or simply not really standing the test of time? Well, I let me tell you, I can relate.

Let's hop in the way back machine and travel to the height of the gangsta rap era (circa 1992). By that point I had been listening to gangsta rap for about 5 years. I had started out listening to N.W.A., Eazy-E, and Ice-T. But by 1992 I had really gotten into the Geto Boys.

Now, for the uninitiated, the Geto Boys are probably the most gangsta of any gangsta rappers. These guys talked about some horrible shit. I'm not talking drive-by shootings, or busting a cap in someone's ass, I'm talking selling sex for cigarettes in prison and being so paranoid you want to kill yourself. Sure, they sometimes glamorized violence, but a lot of the time they talked about repercussions of living a life of crime. It was some disturbing and scary shit. And I couldn't get enough.

Which leads me to the Geto Boys' Rap-A-Lot Records labelmate, and the subject of my questionable purchase, Ganksta N-I-P. Nip was a pioneer of a thankfully short-lived sub-genre of rap called horrorcore. Horrorcore was hardcore rap + horror movie subject matter, and in general, it equaled shit music. And you know what? My friends and I FUCKING loved it. And not in a "it's so bad, it's good sort of way", we legitimately loved it.

And what's not love, with verses like this, from the 8 minute and 16 second Rap-A-Lot Records' magnum opus, Bring It On?

With a weed smokin' motherfucker, plus I kick doobies
I'm the one that told that nigga to go insane in the loobies(?)
Ganksta NIP is fuckin' your daughter, G
I wake up every morning screamin' "Somebody slaughter me!"
Step in my path, your ass is void
'Cause I'm and aerodynamic, satanic, schizophrenic asteroid
Your mind ain't' deep enough, your boys can't creep enough,
dead bodies complainin' that we too loud, they can't sleep enough
Attempted murder, I didn't mean to hurt her,
I hadn't ate in 2 years, I just wanted a cheeseburger
Bulletproof vest won't protect your chest,
A whole body is hard to digest
Once I flex, count the necks,
The Heart of South Park like a recreation of Malcolm X,
So bring it on, I'm ready to slaughter,
Sitting in church, drinkin' a 40 of Holy Water

Now, those are not good lyrics by any stretch of the imagination. Admittedly, there are a couple of pretty dope lines in there, like "Sitting in church, drinkin' a 40 of Holy Water," but that's about it. I think that Nip was trying to take some of the scarier elements of gangsta rap lyrics to another level, like "You want scary? I got scary!" But far from being scary, the lyrics become ridiculous, and ultimately silly. I mean, cannibalism is scary, but when Nip compares it to eating cheeseburgers and the fact that it apparently gives him indigestion, well, that's just funny.

And what in God's name does being "an aerodynamic, satanic, schizophrenic asteroid" really mean? Is that supposed to be intimidating? If someone were to say to me, "Watch out, that guy's a bad motherfucker," I would immediately know what he was talking about. But if someone says, "Watch out that guy's an aerodynamic, satanic, schizophrenic asteroid," I would probably need to ask for further clarification. I mean, my mental picture of that is a gangsta rapper wearing a gold chain pentagram, floating in around in outer space. This image far from making me scared, actually makes me giggle, and that' probably not the effect Nip was going for.

The best part about all of this (or the worst depending on your point of view) is this is, by far, Nip's best verse ever. And it's not even on his own album! Want proof? Here are some sample lyrics from songs on his debut album, The South Park Psycho:

Horror Movie Rap
Fuck with N-I-P, I ain't no actor
My twelve daughters died from talking shit to a tractor
I'm getting pissed from the blood I threw up
Barely snapped my fingers and Jupiter blew up!
Hoes, they love me, they say I'm a pleaser
I woke up dead in a cat's leg screaming "Caesar!"
Quick to break your motherfuckin' spine
A dead goat got pregnant and said it was mine
Ganksta N-I-P - I'm down with the Mob
Cuttin' off heads was my last year's summer job
Blame it on TV - then put it on the map
This is a horror movie rap

Smoking Amp
Back on the block, sounds messing with my head,
Even before some amp eyes bloodshot fuckin' red
So I drive to a Burger King,
Looking real motherfuckin' mean
Thinking about a hearse
Shot the people in front of me, cause I wanna order first
"May I help you brother?"
(triple gunshots) Help that motherfucker!
Cut out his heart then he fell to his knees
It' s tasty like a Whopper with cheese

And, finally, here are some lyrics from the albums best song, Psycho:
A psycho-ass nigga I'm dissin' your crew
If you don't like the way I rap, tough shit nigga, fuck you
Time for a murder, I'm fenna kick ass
Breastfeedin' newborn babies with unleaded gas
Blood gushin' out your head is gettin' thicker and thicker
Pour some chocolate on your arm so it could taste like a Snickers
Push your ass off a building, check to see if you're dead
Flashback to second grade, pencil sharpen your fuckin' head
Strapped with an uzi, so get ready to die,
Catch a nigga while he's asleep, strike a match in his eye

I could go on, but I'm getting tired of typing. If you really want more, I'll let you borrow the CD. Yup I still have it. I know it's bad, but that's become why I still own it. It is so, so, SO bad. Which makes it all the more hilarious when I think back to how much my friends and I liked it. Funny how tastes change.

I'm not exactly sure why my friends and I loved Nip so much back then. I think it probably had something to do with our immaturity and the ridiculous amounts of testosterone our teenage bodies were producing. It's probably the exact same factors that attract teenage boys to slasher movies as well. Whatever the case, I can tell you when I stopped seriously listening to Nip. It was in the spring of 1995, when Nip dropped his Sophomore album Psychic Thoughts. Gone were the horror movie-style lyrics, which were replaced by more, let's just say "anti-caucasian" lyrics. You might have thought that the cover would have tipped me off:


But it didn't. I was still under the spell of gangsta rap, and I could still look past things like an album cover showing the positive transformation from pointing guns at a man of one race, to pointing guns at a man of a different race... Anyhoo, let's just say listening to album wasn't very enjoyable, as Nip detailed his conversion to Islam and renounced his former ways. His DJ even changed his name from Triple-6 to Triple-X, as the only references to the devil would now be those about the "white devil." I'm sure this would be looked at by many as a good thing, a guy giving up cannibalism and Burger King holdups because he found God. Good for him. Really. Except that whole "I'm gonna kill me some white dudes" element of the album doesn't really square with that, but whatever. Needless to say, that was my last album by Nip I ever purchased. Which, considering how poorly his first album has aged, can only be seen as money better spent somewhere else. Now, if only I could say that was the last shit album I bought as well...

The Ugly, the Bad, and the Good

It was quite a rollercoaster of a week last week. Every week always has it's peaks and valleys, but it's been a while for me since those peaks and valleys swung so wide from the baseline. Without focusing too much on the particulars, I thought I'd share some of the highlights (or lowlights, depending on your point of view), subdivided into appropriate categories.

The Ugly:

Got a call at about 9:30pm from my dad on Wednesday night. He was in the hospital again. This time he was admitted because he had suffered a TIA, or "mini-stroke." It was horrible news, to be sure, but not altogher surprising either. After briefly chastising him on the phone for not taking very good care of himself, I went up to see him. Found out that immediate family could go to the hospital at any time, even after visiting hours, which is good to know, since I'm pretty sure this will not be the last time I will be visiting my dad in the hospital. Despite learning that a TIA could be a precursor to a more massive stroke, and the fact that my dad could only use half of his face, left feeling a little bit better as my dad's condition didn't appear to be too severe. At least he was in the hospital, so if things got worse they could be managed right away.

Although, I was mostly concerned about my dad, while I was on the phone with him prior to visiting him in the hospital, I learned that my brother's girlfriend's grandmother had fallen on the steps at the Capitol in Minnesota and hit her head. The fall had caused a hematoma, which they were able to successfully operate on. However, despite the successful surgery, she subsequently lapsed into a coma and is not expected to recover.

The Bad:

Spent all weekend doing yardwork. I hate yardwork. I find it tedious and boring. Luckily, my mom is a freakin' workhorse and she came over and did most of the work, with Megan and me batting cleanup. The worst part is, we bought the wrong house for someone who hates yardwork. Home improvement is a bitch, but once you're done with a project, you're done. Yardwork, it seems, is never done. Yippee. Plus I managed to get a nice sunburn on my neck.

On the plus side, though, our new leafblower/vacuum combo works like a charm. It's a little on the loud side, and I managed to clear out our neighbor's get together next door. My bad.

The Good:

It turns out my dad didn't have a stroke after all. What he actually had was Bell's Palsy, which as I understand it, is mostly likely caused by a viral infection affecting the cranial nerves and causing their paralysis. This is why, at first, it was thought that he had had a stroke. The good news is, it effects should only be temporary, and he should return to normal eventually, although no one can say for sure when or if that will happen. Still, according to those much more knowledgeable than myself, this is a much better thing to have than a stroke. My dad was released from the hospital on Friday, and for those hoping he might have turned over a new leaf, keep hoping. We went to dinner on Sunday night, and my dad ordered Peanut Butter Chicken. I'd almost give my dad some credit for getting his dish with steamed rice, except when ordering a dish that consists of chunks of batter-dipped, deep-fried chicken, topped with a sauce made out of peanut butter, why bother? The dish, while delicious, is not exactly what I would call "heart-healthy," nor would I recommend it for someone who is on cholesterol medication and blood-thinners. Or someone who just got out of the hospital. Twice. But, hey, I'm no doctor, so what do I know?

Our brand-spankin' new toilet was installed on Thursday. What should have been cause for an extended weekend's worth of celebration, was somewhat tempered by my dad being in the hospital. It came in quite handy on Saturday night, though, when, while watching a movie with Megan I felt the urge to use the facilities. Thanks to the miracle of modern plumbing, I was saved the hassle of having to walk all the way upstairs to relieve my bladder, and instead had to walk a mere 20 feet. After I finished, I held my breath, and flushed the toilet. Success! Whoever would have thought flushing toilet could lead to such elation?

Took in a couple of movies this weekend. As Megan was house-sitting on Friday night, I tagged along with Josh and Katie to see Inside Man. It was a pretty surreal experience, as a fight broke out among some pubescent boys hanging out in the Cinema Center parking lot. I might have easily forgotten the squabble, had I not heard one of the boys on his cell phone in the lobby afterwards saying he was going to shoot somebody. I'm sure that this all could have been prevented if we didn't teach evolution in schools, though, right Mr. DeLay? Anyhow, the movie was entertaining, if not great. Spike Lee does a fine job directing this caper piece, but it suffers by comparison to the last Lee movie I saw, 25th Hour, which I suppose is a bit unfair, as Inside Man is more of a popcorn movie. Clive Owen, Jodie Foster, Christopher Plummer, and especially Denzel Washington are all terrific and the storyline definitely keeps you guessing. It's entertaining enough, and you could do a lot worse on a trip to the multiplex today, especially if you're in the mood for a good caper movie.

Saturday night, Megan and curled up on the couch to watch The Squid and the Whale. Again, I liked it fine, but it suffered a little from the hype (Academy Award Nomination for Best Screenplay) and the fact that I loved screenwriter/director Noah Baumbach's 1995 film Kicking and Screaming (not to be confused with the 2005 Will Ferrell debacle with the same name). The movie is a solid and heartfelt, if at sometimes disturbing, glimpse into Brooklyn family going through a divorce. Laura Linney and Jeff Daniels are both superb as the parents, who have such a wide range of good and bad qualities that you alternately like and then are disappointed by them, much like parents in real life. Their scenes are truly the best in the movie, as they feel the most 3 dimensional and real. Their two sons, played by Jesse Eisenberg and Noah Kline, are good as well, but seem a little less fully realized as characters. However, this might not be a fair complaint, as the movie seems to be fair amount about figuring out who you really are and who you really want to be, and as a child you're still figuring that all out. This is represented somewhat in the film, but as the movie kind of lacks a conclusion, it's kind of hard to decide if that was actually Baumbach's intent.

So, that was my week. Now that this one has started, I'm hoping for a little more stability. Which, after last week, should hopefully not be too hard.

The Hammer Falls Down

It's the end of an era. Tom DeLay has announced he will be stepping down as US Representative of Texas. To steal a phrase from Dave Campbell:

F*#% YEAH!!!

Man, do I hate this guy. He is a vile and despicable waste of flesh who under the guise of being a Christian Conservative has done more denigrate the institution of Congress than anyone I have ever heard of. There is nothing Christian or conservative about this guy. When the Republicans took over Congress in 1994 he said the Republicans were there to reform it. He ended up as the head of Congress and during his tenure, according to a statement by his indicted Deputy Chief of Staff Tony Rudy had "a far-reaching criminal enterprise" operating out of his office. "An enterprise that helped sway legislation, influence public policy and enrich its main players."

Obviously, they don't come much more corrupt than DeLay. A criminal enterprise operating out of his office. Now, to be fair, this is America and DeLay has not yet been found guilty of any wrongdoing. But with the aforementioned Tony Rudy pleading guilty to federal bribery charges and his former Chief of Staff Edwin Buckham (an ordained minister by the way) under investigation, Delay really has a lot of explaining to do. Delay claims that all of this criminal activity, including the ongoing Abramoff scandal, all took place without his knowledge. He claims that all of his former staffers who used his office for financial and political gain betrayed his trust. If his claims are true, that would mean he was not only innocent, but rather stupid and naive.

Now, I don't like DeLay, but even I have to admit that he is neither stupid nor naive. In fact, would say that he's the exact opposite of those traits. He's cunning and, yes, diabolical. You don't get to be in Charge of Congress being stupid or naive. You don't get the nickname "The Hammer" from the way you controlled Congress with an iron fist, by not knowing what those around you were up to. So, his rather flimsy defense does not seem to carry much weight now, does it? What does this mean? It means that "The Hammer" is going down.

My favorite part of his announcement of his stepping down, is his claim that he was ruined by "liberal Democrats" and the "liberal media." While the press may have been on his case and inspected his record, and Democrats may have helped to push the drowning Delay under, they can't really take credit for his demise. No, the real credit must go to Senator John McCain, whose Committee on Indian Affairs brought attention to the Abramoff Scandal and DeLay's former Press Secretary Emily Miller who went to the FBI about Abramoff's business partner Michael Scanlon's illicit activities after Scanlon jilted her for a younger woman. Now, this may come as a surprise to you, but neither Senator McCain nor Emily Miller are "liberal Democrats." No my friends, they are in fact Republicans.

I don't know about you, but I'm beginning to see a pattern here. It's as though DeLay can't stop lying. It's like a sickness really. I almost feel sorry for the guy. Almost.

In closing, I'd like to honor of the end of Tom DeLay's political career, by leaving you with some of my favorite DeLay quotes. Enjoy.

To The Garment Manufacturers of Saipain, who run labor camps and compel women employees into prostitution and force them to have abortions:
"You are a shining light for what is happening to the Republican Party, and you represent everything that is good about what we are trying to do in America and leading the world in the free-market system"

To 3 Young Hurricane Refugees in the Houston Astrodome:
"Now tell me the truth boys, is this kind of fun?"

To The Owner of Ruth's Chris Steakhouse, after being told to put out his cigar because of a federal smoking ban:
"I AM the federal government."

On Why He Didn't Serve In Viet Nam:
"So many minority youths had volunteered…that there was literally no room for patriotic folks like myself."

On The Columbine High School Shootings:
"Guns have little or nothing to do with juvenile violence. The causes of youth violence are working parents who put their kids into daycare, the teaching of evolution in the schools, and working mothers who take birth control pills."
[On a Side note: How do birth control pills contribute to youth violence? Wouldn't more mothers on birth control equal less youths, and therefore less youth violence?]

I could go on and on, but I think that's enough to prove my point. This man is a monster and everyone who cares about politics in this country, be they Republican, Independent, or Democrat, should be glad to see him go. I know I am. Happy DeLay Stepping Down Day, everybody!

The Wrath of Porcelainimus, God of Toilets

If anybody is thinking about coming over to the Thom household in the next couple of days, I'd advise against it. You see, our house smells like ass.

The plumbers mad it over yesterday and demo-ed out the remains of our downstairs toilet. This apparently raised the wrath of the Toilet God, Porcelainimus, because the house has been cursed with an unholy stench. I assumed that the stench would be somewhat contained when they laid the new concrete, but it seems that concrete alone can not stop Porcelainimus. Luckily, it was pretty mild yesterday, so we were able to air out the house somewhat, but with rain predicted for the next couple of days, I'm not looking forward to shutting up the house.

The most frightening moment came when, upon returning home from work, I discovered my street blocked off by 2 Mister Rooter trucks. One truck, which almost completely blocked my driveway, was snaking some tubing into the manhole in the middle of the street. Holy Christ, I thought, what did those fuckers do to my plumbing?!?! Luckily, it turned out to be false alarm, as our plumbers had left in the morning, and the Mr. Rooter guys were taking care of someone else's problem. Which made me wonder, what in the hell they were actually doing out there. Since they were going into a manhole in the street, it must be a pretty big job and shouldn't the city be handling that? I chalked it up to someone losing their wedding ring down the toilet, but still it was a little disconcerting.

I am so looking forward to the toilet being installed on Thursday, it's not even funny. Hopefully, with a new throne installed in his honor Porcelainimus will remove his curse and descend back into the depths from which he came. Until then, I'm hoping that scented candles and open windows are enough to keep him at bay.

Fish Fry-day

A pretty good weekend was kicked off on a Friday by dinner at the Holy Name Fish Fry on Friday. Now, I'm not Catholic, in fact right now I'd probably be described by the Religious Right as a secular humanist, but I love the Holy Name Fish Fry. I was raised Lutheran which observes Lent, but doesn't exclude meat on Fridays. Sure, we were encouraged to give up something during Lent, like chocolate, soda, et., but we could really eat whatever we wanted. The closest thing we got to catholic fish frys were soup suppers on Wednesdays during Lent. These were pretty fun little gatherings, but since they were in the Fellowship Hall of our church, they were pretty sedate. Also, you really had a choice of 2 beverages, punch or iced tea. This seems to be the major difference between the fish frys and the soup suppers, because at a fish fry you can have beer. And lots of it. Now, I'm not sure where or why the Lutherans and Catholics parted ways on this, because I gotta tell ya, going to church is a lot more fun when there's beer involved.

My first experience at the Holy Name Fish Fry a couple of years ago came as quite a shock. First of all, the line to get into the cafeteria stretched outside and along the building, eventually spilling out onto a side street. While we waited in line, people drank beer and even brought along coolers. I thought this was a little odd, as I could not remember ever seeing alcohol anywhere on the premises of my church, with the exception of Communion wine. So, I thought that people just brought along beer to have fun during the long wait to get in, but once we got inside there'd be no more beer. Well, I was half right. Once you actually entered the cafeteria, you had to stow away your coolers and all the beer you brought with you, but you could drink all the keg beer you could handle from the church while you waited in line. Good call Catholics! Once you finally got your fish and chips, you could buy pitchers of beer as well. By the time I sat down, I had already decided that meat or no meat on Fridays, Catholics got the Lent thing right.

This last Friday, Megan and I took in the fish fry with our friends Kara and Jessie and their baby daughter Sophie and Holy Name Fish Fry newcomers Katie and Josh. The fish and fixins' were good as always, although once a year is enough for me. I don't think I could keep up eating all that fried food for the duration of Lent, even if just on Fridays. A good time was had by all, except when I thought Jessie's head was going to explode each time the guy that stands outside of Planned Parenthood with signs about killing babies kept coming over and talking to Sophie. Kara said that next time he came by, she was going to say they almost had an abortion instead. Ya gotta love abortion humor at a Catholic fish fry.

Kara, Jessie, and Sophie called it a night after dinner and we dropped Megan off to recover from her hangover (it's a long story). Katie, Josh, and I decided that we weren't ready to call it a night just yet, so we went bowling down at Chop's. Up until this year, I probably had been bowling a sum total of 5 times. So far this year, I've been bowling at least 6. I'm really starting to dig it. As with any sport, and with bowling I use the term loosely, the difficulty lies in consistency. By the fourth and final game, Katie had bowed out, but Josh and I seemed to really find our grooves. I don't think that I'll ever be a great bowler, but Josh and I bowled a solid game with Josh scoring 125 and me barely edging him out with a 128. Except for Josh spilling an entire beer into Katie's purse, it made for an exceptionally fun evening.

As I write this, I realize that I must be approaching middle age ahead of schedule. Fish frys and bowling on a Friday night. What's next, a friggin' dart league? Jesus, I'm becoming an old man, and apparently a white trash one at that.