All right. I am officially sick of this “man cave” shit.

Apparently, since, y’know, there’s nothing else going on in the world, CNN has decided to pick up on the latest trend in home decorating – man caves, mantuaries, mantown, whatever the hell you’d like to call it, it’s the place in the house where the poor, beleaguered husband can go to be surrounded by his manly things and be free of his nagging harpy of a wife for a while.

No, I’m not exaggerating here. Go on, have a look.

The article is entitled “Why he needs a room of his own. The first bullet point is, “Man caves are a place for what a man’s gotta do.”

What, exactly, does a man gotta do?

I understand the importance of having your own space, a place for your things where you aren’t tripping over your significant other all the time. When we bought our house, we liked having three bedrooms so we each could have our own offices, our own spaces. Now that my husband has started the process of moving his office down to the basement (because it’s so much cooler in the summer), we’ve jokingly called it The Lair.

However, it’s being done for practical purposes, not so he can get away from the shrew upstairs. At no time have I ever felt like there’s a “No Girls Allowed” sign on the door, or as though I can’t go downstairs to talk to him, like the rules for these man caves seem to imply.

Jill Scully, 31, of Pescadero, California, doesn’t sneak up on fiancé Nicholas Woodman, 32, in his lair, a barn outfitted with $13,000 of race car simulation equipment.

Nicholas, an amateur club circuit racer and owner of a digital sports camera company, takes the jostling driver’s seat for hours on end — helmet on, lights off, surround sound blaring. Interrupting her fiancé might make him “crash,” so Jill, who helps run Nicholas’ company, waits until the end of the “race” before announcing herself.

“This deal conveniently ensures I have to be a spectator for a good half hour until his race comes to a close and I can interrupt,” she says.

I’m not sure how anything about this is “convenient.” This woman has to stand and watch what her husband’s doing, and be quiet until he’s ready to acknowledge her. I can understand not interrupting for a few minutes – we both play World of Warcraft, and there have been times when one of us has been in the middle of a boss fight when the other wanders in to ask a question. So, sure, waiting a few minutes to ask if he’s seen the car keys or if I remembered to add something to the Netflix queue is fine. But there’s always at least the acknowledgement that the other person is in the room – most of the time, the headset will come right off so whoever needs to ask a question can get an answer.

Having to shut up and wait, though? For a half hour? That’s ridiculous. And why does she have to be a spectator? Why not just go away and do her own thing, if she’s being ignored anyway? It certainly seems as though his time is more important than hers, if she has to stand there and wait. How is that a relationship between equals?

The whole presentation is simply insulting – that men need this place to get away from it all – the kids, the in-laws, the wife. The only mention of a reciprocal situation comes from (surprise) the marriage counselor: “‘My wife has a lot of quilting and sewing stuff in her office and she likes to sew and not be bothered,’ Brody says. ‘I think we all have that need.'”

It’s one thing to have separate spaces, but the whole idea of “mantown” borders on being insulting to the women in these relationships, no matter how CNN tries to spin it. The women quoted all have positive things to say, but the subtext makes my skin crawl.

So, here’s my first mooninite finger in a long time, pointed right at the mancaves.

So, today was Monterrey’s local derby match in the Mexican Soccer League (El Clásico, as we call it). Monterrey (the team that rocks) Vs Tigres (the ones who suck). For all intended purposes, the game that matters most in the city. Other cities claim to have their own Clásicos. Us Monterrey folk laugh at their cute naiveté, for theirs are nowhere near the degree of excitement and bloodlust our local derby generates.

It was an alright match, my team which I assume by now you can all guess who it is made a couple mistakes that cost them two goals. By couple mistakes I mean 1)Signing that idiot goalkeeper Christian Martinez (it’s funny how Christian is a name in Mexico but Cristiano, the spanish word, isn’t) and 2)Not trading him away in the numerous chances they’ve got. That idiot cost us the first two goals. He does this all the goddamn time in important matches.

There’s about 10 minutes to go (plus compensation time) and my team is down 3-1 on a home game, there is sadness in the air. Then things start getting crazy as they score and it gets 3-2. Things get really interesting, they are going all out on offense and those no good Tigres are playing more defensively than Italy for christ’s sake! (Italy is well known for playing overly defensive, infuriatingly so) Then a miracle happens and with 3 minutes or so to go, they score the equalizer! Madness! The crowd is going insane! Then that no good miopic retard Paul Delgadillo (the ref for the match) calls an offside. Bullshit! The play was close but it wasn’t an offside and he didn’t even consult with the linesman. Ridiculous.

Then it gets worse. Compensation time, last play of the match: a Corner kick. Another goal! Madness! Nobody can believe it, they overcame a 3-1 deficit on top of one nulified goal! Wooo! I can’t believe they made it, this is insane!

And then it was that that asshole Paul Delgadillo found himself on my shitlist. He calls a foul on the striker who headed the ball for the equalizer. Unbefuckinglievable! Again, the replay shows absolutely nothing. There was minimal contact, the kind that is unavoidable and is party of every goddamn play from games played by 6 year olds up until the World Cup. That contact is NOT a foul. Never. Ever. You don’t even consider giving the idea half a second in your head when only 3 minutes ago you denied a team a legitimate goal for tying a very crucial match!

Then he blew his whistle to end the game. And my heart filled with that irrational sportsfan hate that reminds me how close we are to our cavepeople ancestors. I don’t care. Fuck that blind asshole. Fuck him right in his glory-denying ass.

No seriously, go to hell.

Kid Finger

Edit- Here, see for yourselves (the crazy stuff starts at around the 6:30 mark).

Seriously, fuck this noise.

October 31, 2007

Did you know that Al Qaeda is behind the California wildfires?

It is more or less beyond my powers of communication to express the utter absurdity of this “news” story, and my disdain for the morally bankrupt originators thereof – but I’m going to do my damndest, because I really need to give more Fingers and it seems I can only do it when I’m angry. As it should be!

The connection here is so utterly tenuous as to be nonexistent. To quote directly from the report, “police officers in a hovering helicopter saw a guy starting one of these fires.” A guy. A guy. And then these vague reports of an “al Qaeda detainee” warning of possible fire-starting as a terror tactic. Four years ago. Mentioning four states that distinctly were not California.

Let’s give Fox “News” the benefit of the doubt here – assume that this memo was in fact relevant and extant. Assume that “a guy” started at least one of these fires. At what fucking point does this become a newsworthy conclusion? This is speculation at best, and stinks to high heaven of the fear-mongering that the American right has adopted as their standard of operation.

Frightened people think with their skins, and that suits a certain cross-section of the political machine just fine. Fox “News” wants you to be afraid. “Fox News” has the culprit* for every disaste. Fox “News” will happily tell you that 2 + 2 = terrorism. Because if you live in a universe where Islamofascism is at the root of every evil, then Rudy Giuliani starts to make a little bit of sense. And that, this fine Hallow’s Eve, is something to be afraid of.

So here’s a big heavy metal Finger to nonsensical fear and those who would make it the currency of our nation. We don’t need that shit.

*From Achewood by Chris Onstad. Art used without permission.

This story right here is a nice example of just how deep seated is corruption and cheating in Mexican Politicians. Of course, it’s been hard-wired into the mexican brain that the end justifies the means at this point, but Politicians do it with such gusto that it’s blood boiling off-pissing.

Once upon a time there was a thug who pretended he was a politician who belonged to the PRI (aka the assholes who ruled Mexico for 70+ years and were happy to keep bringing it closer to shitholedom) who was kind of a big shot. He was once Head of the Party and even ran for President in 2006. He was also proudly written in the history books as the first PRI candidate to not only lose the presidential election (another guy beat him to that), but to not even finish in second place. He is a son of the party (his father was a high ranking party official), and all around epitome of what the PRI stands for: An ideas-independent quest for political power and the money that comes from it.

This idiot, whose awesome name is Roberto Madrazo Pintado. Why awesome? Well, in Mexico we use the word madrazo in colloquial terms to mean “hit”, or “punch”. As in “to punch somebody” is to give him a “madrazo”. Also, Pintado while a valid yet not too common last name also means “painted”. So this idiot at least has been laughed at his whole life because of his name. I wish I could believe that he became a sociopath because of that, but I seriously doubt it.

Alright, enough with the setup! This idiot ran the Berlin Marathon and won his age division (55 and over)! Awesome right? He even shaved off an hour from his previous best time! Hmmm, doing roughly two thirds of your previously best time sounds odd…

Luckily for us, the german are the mostest analest people to walk the earth so they have this microchip (hold on libertarians, don’t start screaming about Fascism just yet!) to keep track of their partial times along several checkpoints (none of which were refered to as “Charlie”, I give you my assurances). Thanks to them, we know this:

1) He ran past the checkpoints at 5, 10, 15 and 20 km. He did 1:42:42 to the 20km mark. That is roughly 1km every 5min. Not too shabby.

2) His reading for the 25 and 30km checkpoints are missing.

3) He reappears at the 35km checkpoint. This was a whopping 21 minutes after the 20km mark. That is roughly 1km every 1.5min.

4) The 20km and 35km checkpoints are merely a few block from each other (the route takes them away and then back).

5) The guy who won the Marathon ran that same part (from the 20km to the 35km checkpoint) at roughly 1km every 3 minutes. That is, at half the speed as Madrazo.

6) He is seen arriving just ahead of a guy who has no checkpoint times missing and who ran at a consistent pace (of roughly 1km every 4min).

7) He doesn’t look nearly as tired as everybody else crossing the finish line in a video from the Marathon.

Seriously. What the fuck? Why? Why? Why?

Kid Finger


This post is not about the following things:

  • Barack Obama’s refusal to wear an American flag pin on his lapel.
  • A reporter who could have asked any question–like one about health care or torture–but asked about why Obama wasn’t wearing an American flag.
  • The pundit’s ridiculous responses*
  • The amount of time devoted to this story on the national news
  • The amount of bandwidth devoted to this story
  • How the New York Times made this their lead story on their website
  • The lack of coverage of real issues in a substantive way


And now, sincerely:

The Salute

*”Why do we wear pins? Because our country was attacked!” Yeah, stick that pin on and be a hero, asshole.