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 Volume 481 - Live La Vida Loca

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 May 26, 2001.         ...Advertise on         ..SPORTS..         ..Help Wanted..        ..Did you hear it? 
 Pearl Harbor Reviews - we need your Pearl Harbor reviews

 Stroke Me, Stroke Me

 "Have you lost your nuts?"

   --The vulgar Pigboy's stroke-addled brain, trying to choose between
      "Have you lost your mind?"  and  "Are you nuts?"

 ha ha

 That's one of Strokeboy's best ever, third hour Friday.

 From: (withheld)

 Subject: Would you please finish New York?



I'm doing my best.
I can't turn it on and off like a faucet.
Genius has no timetable.

Bah Hahbah

Our last night in Bar Harbor, Maine, we figured to do a "big" meal.
The first two places we went to weren't open, then we found Rupununi's.

You won't believe this, but I saw a black man in Maine.
 I didn't get to hear him speak, but I know it was a black man.

Besides expensive, I'm not sure what kind of restaurant it was, but it didn't matter,
because the cute lil' waitress handed me a tequila menu when she seated us.
I tried to kiss her, but she pulled away.

I saw one I hadn't tried before, the Porfidio Cactus Bottle Anejo.
It was high, I think $16 a shot.

In order to make my $16 pay off, I had to have something to compare it with,
so I asked for a shot of Herradura Anejo and Patron Anejo.

Cute lil' comes back with,
"We have the Herradura, but no Patron.
  We have some Chinaco, tho.
   Is that a good brand?"

I asked, "Is it the Chinaco Anejo?"
She says she'll find out.

It wasn't, it was Reposado, which isn't the same.

So I just had the two shots - they were nice.
The Porfidio Cactus Bottle Anejo was plenty smooth, but there's no there there.
Smooth is one thing, "nothing there" is another.

Like OJ, I think I''m going to stop my search for the "real killer"
tequila,  because we have a clear winner with The Gift of Canaan.

They also had food at this place.

I went with the salad, the Prime Rib Au Jus and the baked potatoe*

Mrs. Barkley had the Lobster Fettacino, is how I think you spell it.
Ohhhh, the lobster was Belize-style, with coconut curry sauce!

ha ha

No wonder I don't eat that weird food.
What the "F" is coconut curry sauce?

What? ...short on time? ...pick it up?

OK OK, the meal was the best ever.
Great salad, the steak was great, but the best part was the bakedpotatoe*

Y'ever notice how the baked potatoe* always tastes better at the restaurant?
I have a theory that the longer they sit, perhaps in rock salt, the more the flavor of the
potatoe* skin osmosizizes (homage to Smirk) its flavor into the spud, thereby giving
greater flavor than home baked taters which you'd eat shortly after preparing it.

This potatoe* was that good.
To make it even better, ...towards the end, ...when every little bite is extra good?
I poured the last of my Au Jus on it.

ha ha

Ohhhh, it was reeeal good.
I'd take a little bit of the Au Jus-soaked potatoe* (I'm getting real tired of that)
and I'd savor the taste then follow it with a sliver of pink Prime Rib, and then chase it
with some high-dollar Anejo, ...and the exhale alone is worth twenty bucks.

ha ha

I must be going to hell.

Later, Cute lil' asked me what the deal was with the different kinds of tequila.
She asked me to give her a tequila education.
I did what I could.

So, Mrs. BartCop drove back (drinking and driving is bad) to the PEOV Inn.
We settled into a little TV, knowing tomorrow would be a busy day.

Channel surfing, I caught The Madonna Story on VH-1.
Some lady said the reason Madonna was so screwed up sexually is because she was
brought up Catholic, where french-kissing and murder are both equal sins.
We could spend a week on that craziness, but this report is already too long.

We watched a little Dave, and I was shocked by something he revealed.
Remember this, from Smirk's disasterous 2000 visit to Dave, pre-theft?

President Weak, Stupid and Heartless was caught wiping his glasses on a staffer.
I, perhaps like you, assumed the staffers was a Smirk staffer, but noooooo.

But Dave revealed last Wednesday night (the 16th) that it was Maria Pope,
....the lady who introduces the Survivor people, ...the Campaign 2000 lady,

...SHE is the young lady who Smirk just decided to wipe himself on!

Can you believe that silver-spooned son of a bitch?

Wiping himself off on whoever happens to be nearby?

And to think this prick got within 500,000 votes of winning the presidency!

Isn't that scary?

(Back after this)

 Send in your Pearl Harbor reviews

 Don't make them too long, tho.

 We'll print the best ones.



Subject: All kidding aside...

Even as one of your biggest detractors I do find myself agreeing with you from time to time
and one point you make that truly makes sense to me is, no matter what affiliation one subscribes to
is that one measure of a man's credibility is his ability and courage to stand up for his beliefs in the
face of opposing ideological conflagration. Why then, are you not lending any of this credit to Jim Jeffords?

I am honestly not being facetious. I some how expected a more positive response from you on the matter.
In particular because Mr. Jefford has done what he believed was the right thing, and even if it was seen as
unpopular by his peers, he was going to follow through regardless. But how does the fact that he followed
his beliefs make him any less virtuous? You made him out to sound like a turncoat of the highest degree when
actually all he is guilty of is living up to a standard that you yourself have set as an example of pride and dignity.

This is the part of the equation I do not understand. Do you support your party so stoutly that you believe loyalty
to the party should trump a mans personal ambitions? This would put government ahead of ones individuality.
In any case, that is defiantly not a desirable outcome in a free country such as ours.
However, judging from what you have said in the past, it would appear to me that you are trying to walk
on both sides of the fence on this issue. I hope to hear back from you, just this once.

Best wishes,

 Mac, on Larry King last night, Bill Maher said,
 "The Democrats are so weak, how ironic that it took a Republican
   to stand up and say, George Bush has gone too far.' "

Does Bill Maher read
At one point, he mentioned the phrase "Eight Wives" to Larry...

From: Tamara Baker

BartCop, see?  The Dems haven't even officially taken over the Senate yet, and Cox's
judgeship, once a slam-dunk, is now so obviously impossible that even he realizes it.


Cocks pulls name from Bush's judge nominee list

Christopher Cocks (R-Prick) asked Weak & Stupid not to nominate him for a federal judgeship,
saying the Democratic takeover of the Senate made it unlikely he could get approved without a long battle
because he is, after all, such a partisan son of a bitch.

Full Story from

But Tamara, our side didn't win anything here, the bad guy just surrendered.
Isn't it sad that our only victories come when they surrender?

I wonder if the fake Democrats will have the courage to accept Cock's surrender?

 Would your like to smack President Weak & Stupid?

  You gotta go here

 Click a few times on each fist - click fast and hard.

  ha ha

Will this story ever end?
   Koresh, I hope so.

That Wednesday, as we finished watching the West Wing finale in our fine view motel room,

Mrs. BartCop suggested we might hit some Acadia early the next morning,
then start the trip back toward THE City a day earlier than we had planned.

This was strange behavior for her.
For the 29.7  years I've known her, she's always been very afraid of New York.
She updated her will before we left, in case she was murdered on the streets.
(She watches Law & Order and NYPD Blue every week...)

But here she was, ...asking if I might be ready to go back a day early.


Hell, I thought Manhattan was pretty damn impressive, and since the airfare to New York
is DOUBLE the airfare to Las Vegas, it might be a while before we come back,
so I agreed with her (never a bad move, trust me) to go back to the center of the universe.

...but it sure seemed out of character for her.

Thursday morning we headed back towards the BIG City.
Funny, six days ago, she thought going to New York was so risky,
and now she was as eager as I was to get back to the future.

As we drove, I wondered about tonight's hotel.
I figured something would be open this weekend, since everything was book last weekend.
I called our first-ever choice, the CAL-recommended Washington Square Hotel.

Driving down I-95, I called them and asked if they had room tonight.
They said they did, and I could "come right in."  I told Cubby I was in Connecticut,
but could I give him my credit card number over the phone to secure the room.

He said no.

He said I couldn't reserve the room with a credit card.
I made him repeat that.
"You can't reserve a room over the phone with a credit card."

ha ha

What the hell is this?
My credit card is good in Las Vegas, Dallas, San Francisco, Washington DC, Denver,
Chicago, Buffalo,  Memphis, Salt Lake City, (funny, in Russell, Kansas, they took my check)
Knoxville, Boston, Tucumcari and Bah Hahbah, Maine, but it's no good in New York?
Isn't that the craziest shit you've ever heard?

They said if I was the next guy there, I could have the room, but I guess, in today's America,
in the trendiest part of the greatest city in the world, plastic money is not considered legal tender.
(And I do not want to know what "legal tender" means in The Village.)

In my younger days, I might've done a Number Six on him, but why bother?
The Washington Square Hotel in New York has a policy of "No Credit Cards."

I called the good old Chelsea Savoy, (did I mention it was run by Russians?)
and they said my money was good there, so we booked a room over the phone.

As we pulled into town, I found my way.

Remember me talking about how much fun it is to drive the loop around Dallas?
The cars are all going 80, there's no cops anywhere, cars are jostling for position,
and these sudden lane changes really know how to keep you on your toes behind the wheel,

...well, driving in Manhattan was like that but it was ever better.

We mostly did 5th, 6th, 7th and 8th Avenues, from, say, Third to 110th Steets,
and that's gotta be the hottest race track in North America.

The cabbies are opportunists, and I mean that in the most flattering sense.
If they see an opening, they take it.  It's like watching a surgeon.
They don't think - there's no time to think - they just drive.
Everything works on reflex, and they only killed 24 people last year - amazing!

To Mrs. BartCop's horror, I got into New York's rythym right away.
I was competing with the Iraqi cab drivers, and there were no cops!
Sure, there's walking cops,  ha ha  but even the cops on cars are so hemmed in
by others cars that there's not much they can do - it's a wild-ass free-for-all.
Poor Mrs. BartCop held her hands over her eyes.
I never had that much fun in a car before (that I can talk about).

...and it's funny, because this was never supposed to happen.

I have to do that every two minutes with Netscape Composer or risk losing everything.

Tha plan was to stay in New England a couple more days, then drive to Newark on
Saturday morning and fly back to the late 1880's Oklahoma Territories where we live.
But instead of that, we ended up in New York Thursday night.


So, before we settle in for the night, we figured the first order of business, since we had a car,
was to raid Ray's Pizza at 11th and Sixth Avenue and see if Saturday night was just a fluke..

ha ha

Have you ever tasted this pizza?

It totally rules.
But, before I could declare it better than Imo's in St Louis,
I'd have to do an A-B, side-by-side hot taste test, and how's that gonna happen?

If you go to New York, don't say you've had "the pizza" unless you bought it here.

Next up - claiming my sure-to-win-a-Webby lost notes.
There was no problem finding this place, because their address was 125 E. Eighth
so naturally, they were between 16th and 17th, which makes perfect sense - if you're Catholic.

Check it out - a parking space not ten feet from their front door.
I snatched it.

When I went in the limo place, they tried to give me Tommy Dimwit,
but I kept after them, so they kept digging until they found my notes.
Good, this trip report might've been lame without my notes.

Then, ...just like in Law & Order, ...we came upon a crime in progress.

You see, ...these two disadvantaged youths, ...having been denied transporation by The Man,
hitched a ride on the back of this horse-drawn buggy until the driver heard them laughing.
He screamed, "Hey, you damned kids," ...and they took off running.
I've seen my first New York street crime.

We made a right on Broadway.
Can you see it?
In the thick Manhattan jungle, can you see it?

It's The Late Show with David Letterman!

If you look real close (and you're from Krypton) you can see the protesters.
Miss Universe (nee Columbia) was there to accept Dave's apology for his joke last week
that her talent competition consisted of swallowing 50 balloons of heroin.

ha ha

Driving hint for New York:

If you ever come across Broadway - take it!
It doesn't matter, if you don't take it, the next few streets will be blocked or one-way and you'll
just have to circle around and then take Broadway, so just take Broadway and save the time.

Just then a cab driver cut me off right at 38th Street,
so I had to get in front of him and cut him off at 36th Street.

ha ha

Then, Mrs BartCop makes the observation:
"You love driving in this traffic."

Koresh help me, ...I do.
Deisel exhaust smells like victory.

If you've never been in a Manhattan traffic jam, it's not like the others.
I've written about this before, the cabbies in Chicago when we met Phil Collins.
If their cab is 66 inches wide, and the hole is 70 inches, they just zoom right through.
Driving in Manhattan is better than driving the loop around Dallas!

Sure, in Dallas, the speeds are higher, but the cars in Dallas are a full three feet apart.
In New York, if Hassan thinks he sees a sliver of daylight, he hits the gas!
I watched them, and learned.

Of course, I was also the man behind the camera, which made it difficult.
Sometimes I needed two hands to drive, but with one hand (and one eye) on the camera
I had to use my knees for added wheel manipulation, which made Mrs. BC more nervous.
After a couple of hours driving against these guys, I was a New York cab driver!

         A New York Hot Dog stand, but where's Lenny?

I have to do that every two minutes with Netscape Composer or risk losing everything.

                          Traffic, traffic, traffic

A sad note - with the Smirk economy tanking, many New Yorkers
have been reduced to eating from restaurant garbage bags. How sad.

           End hunger - vote Democrat in 2004

It had been a long day, with a lot of miles, so we checked into the hotel
in time to see Monica and Chandler get married - ....on NBC.

(Back after this)


Subject: I am not amused...

Today during the pigboy's program he was commenting on the medias coverage
of Robert Blakes wife's funeral. Always the comedian he felt the need to spice up
the situation with his brand of humor by saying that Blake was reportedly seen
leaving the funeral home in a white Bronco.

I would truly love to personally kick the living shit out of this ass-hole and smile
for the cameras as I happily surrender to my arrest. Have a nice holiday weekend!


Ask for a  jury trial, you'll get off.

Saving Private ROVE
Former Bush adviser will plead guilty to mail fraud.
Karl Rove escapes the short arm of the law.
By Pete Slover / The Dallas Morning Whore

Click  Here

Back to New York

Did I mention that Monica and Chandler were getting married - on NBC?
Funny, during the wedding episode, NBC ran a commercial for Friday's TODAY Show.
It turns out their special musical guest Friday, live on the streets of New York, was Ricky Martin.

Everything fell into place as tho a giant curtain was pulled back.

Now I knew why Mrs. BartCop was willing to risk it all for another step into THE City.
She tried to act like she didn't hear the promo, but she was sooooo busted.
When I asked her about it, she said, "Ricky Martin,"

ha ha

She's such a bad liar.
I'd been sandbagged by the best.
You don't want to get between Mrs. BartCop and something she wants.
She said, "As long as we're here, ...can we go to NBC tomorrow and see Ricky Martin?"

You married men know I had no options at this point. She must be made happy.
So Friday morning, we're up with the sun, so we can be first in line outside NBC.

We took a cap to NBC, but the ride seemed kinda tame now.
I almost offered the driver some tips on how to get there faster, ...but nahhh.

We got here hours ahead of time, and the place was packed.
Who knew Ricky Martin had so many fans in in the New York area?
This was a madhouse.  Thousands of screaming fans, mostly women.

Plus, we had the wacky time-shift factor.
In K-Drag, the musical acts on the Today Show play "live" from 8:30 - 9 AM.
That would be 9:30 - 10 AM New York time, unless K-Drag doesn't get the feed live.

The cops were no help.
They kept barking at people to "Get behind the barricades."

Guess what, Officer O'Toole?
Your fancy barricades will only hold 3000-4000 people, and there were twice that many
at 7:30 and more and more people, I mean women, were streaming in all the time.

"Behind the barricades" just wasn't getting the job done.
However, I used my weasel skills to get us inside the barricades and about halfway to the stage.

         Matt Lauer introducing Mr. La Vida Loca

Ricky came out and the crowd went ape-shit crazy.

Thousands of women, screaming like it was The Beatles on Ed Sullivan.
They all started a big surge towards the stage, pushing us even closer.

I thought Mrs. BartCop would be horrified and fearing for her life,
but she just looked at me and said, "I hope you can keep up" as she
weaseled herself closer and closer to the stage - it was mayhem!

      NBC remembered to bring their cameras.

Every time the camera boom swung our way, the women went scooters.
You'd think there was some damn "be on TV" contest, the way they were acting.

Ricky did a couple of songs, then they cut to a commercial.

    Katie Couric, left, ran onstage to chat with Ricky.

Mrs. BartCop said Katie and Ricky made a cute couple
I rememinded her Ricky was gay.
She stepped on my toe to punish me for that.
Then Ricky did a song I like: Nobody Wants to be Lonely.

Them womens was swooning.

I got off on it, because I saw Ricky and Christina Aguilera do a great version of this song on Leno one night
and they really nailed it. Sometimes voices work well together and sometimes they don't.
Ricky and Christina may not quite be Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell, but they were pretty decent.

Ain't Nothin' like Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell
  (very short)

Oh, did I mention it was raining?

After a mere five songs, the show was over and the cops were ordering the crowd to disperse.
Most of the women, Mrs BartCop included, went to the east door hoping for an autograph.

           Seniors on the RM groupie circuit.

From the way these two talked, they were stalking him from town to town.
They knew his schedule and method of operation. They said RM would be
coming out soon, so, naturally, we had to stand in the mist and wait for him.

Then Ricky's SUV limo pulled up, but a nasty cop told him he had to leave.
The driver said (I was right next to him, heard everything) he couldn't leave,
that he had orders to make this pickup and his boss wouldn't let him leave.

So the nasty cop wrote him a ticket, setting off angry boos
from the estrogen-laden crowd.  Mean-looking, isn't he?
He looks like Sipowicz before he stopped the heavy boozing.

Hey, O'Toole, where's your damn hat?
Did you leave it at the bar?

The booing crowd got noisier, causing concern for the NBC security dudes.
They sent out a scary-looking security goon to assess the situation.

         This guy was packing heat under his coat.

Some of Ricky's band members came out, which seemed to shock the security people.

      Ricky's bandmates and their Gucci bags.

The mean-looking security dude said, "Go underground" into his shirt collar.
Then he announced that RM had left the building from an underground tunnel.

(More to come - the day was young)

 I forget...

 Is it illegitimate president or bastard president?

 Read the  Previous Issue

 It had everything.

 Copyright © 2001,
   Thanks for the fumble, Dude.

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