In the wake of all this Lane Kiffin controversy, where the former UT Vols coach is skipping out to head USC, I’ve had very little to say but one thing…
     “Lane Kiffin?  Oh, sorry!  I didn’t even realize UT had a coach.”

     Only three people laughed. The rest tried to explain, “Oh, yeah, you don’t care about football, huh?  Well, Lane Kiffin was…”
     Yes, the rock I’ve been living under was impenetrable.  These explanations only stand as more proof that people just don’t get sacrilege.  Err, I mean, sarcasm.

     It seems that UT Vols Basketball Coach Bruce Pearl may be hardest hit by the news that Lane Kiffin is leaving, given his statement last year regarding how well he got along with the Football Coach:

I’m trying to date his wife. But that’s not working out too good.

     Two thousand, one hundred eighty-eight miles does tend to add an additional layer of complexity to his covetous courting.

     Perhaps unsurprisingly, as if she’s been being whisked off to another country never to be seen or heard from again, literally thousands of Tennesseeans are searching Google and other search engines for photos of Layla Kiffin nude.  As if there are any naked pics of Layla Kiffin lying thoughtlessly around the Internet…
     Numerous bloggers have lamented Kiffin’s decision to leave based on their lust for Layla’s sweater kittens, however few have managed to convey their emotions so succinctly as Sports Pickle.  

     Personally, I find it interesting they should reference both breasts and Governor Bredesen in the same paragraph… again… But I digress…

     Perhaps it’s just me, but rather than “HOT,” I prefer to think of her as ‘decorative,’ as in, “may look nice loosely draped over a couch, where the color of her hair might possibly match the otherwise sparse decor.”  Not that I particularly give a damn about interior design, or even own a couch, but the whole Barbie Doll^™ thing has never done much for me.  I generally prefer womens’ brains to be equally as large as their breasts.
     I mean … perhaps it’s a bit prejudicial, but she doesn’t exactly scream, “Rocket Surgeon,” to me.

     But as for looking at photos of hot women with large breasts, I have my own stash to look at, taken with my own damn camera from 2007 and 2008… God… I miss those… err, I mean, her, back then she used to have the best breast augmentation and other surgeries to have a fit body and feel good with herself. 

Note: Barbie is a Registered Trademark of Mattel Toys, God forbid they try and sue me, too.

Note: The term “Rocket Surgeon” is based loosely on the statement, “It’s not rocket surgery!” delivered several years ago by the bartender formerly known as Antoinette, now made famous by the captioned photograph hanging in Knoxville’s Preservation Pub.

     So this past weekend, I had a completely ridiculous random thought.  It actually wasn’t about any particular readers of this blog mind you, but came about because of Pete Venkman’s comeback, “No, it sounds like you have enough people in there already,” in Ghostbusters.
     Yeah, I watched Ghostbusters.  Yes, again.  Yes, of course I thought the video game was hilarious.  That’s partially why I decided to watch the movie again.  Seriously?  Whatever… Anyway… *snicker*

     So basically, umm…

     If they had Multiple Personality Disorder, would it count as group sex?  I wonder how crazy would the dirty talk get if they were “all” into it?

     There is, of course, a reason those questions are labeled as rhetoric. 😉

There is something about staying up all night.  I don’t know if it all the creativity that to keeps you up or the thoughts that run through your head.  In this case I would say it was a little of both.

While I was patiently waiting the 6:30 a.m. tic to toc on the clock, I was diligently working on a piece of design soon to be seen.  The tedious monotony of tutorials and code are such sweet company on an early Monday morning, after all code is poetry.  I also managed to finish building my handout for today’s Introductory Computer Class at the Halls Senior Center.  Not much else was going through my head at the time.

It all changed as I began to cook at the turn of six.  I began to reminisce how my Mammaw and Pappaw must have done the same things day in and day out as they prepared breakfast for all of the boys in the painting crew.  God I miss that breakfast… To this day I can’t make white gravy that is anywhere close to that.  Moreover, the main thing I miss of that is the camaraderie, that my quiet breakfasts, with my wife or couple of friends, just aren’t the same. The atmosphere just can’t be replicated. I have fond memories of eating my portion and part of my uncle’s within a period of two or so hours.  Those were the days… just waking up to food prepared to eat as soon as your feet hit the floor.

That reminder quickly moved to a scene in Sam’s Restaurant and Deli for more breakfast than the average human should eat in one sitting.  Again, it was more the camaraderie than the food although it is excellent as well.  Heck, Mark and I would order one of the specials our friend would most likely order the Western Omelet. We would drink out fair share of coffee and smoke. Yes, I said smoke. You see that was prior to the unrealistic and unforgiving anti-tobacco lobby ruined that pastime for those of us who have no wish to kill the ignorant people we encountered during a day.

So, it is with that I leave you to go puff on bowl of tobacco and reminisce something else positive.  After all around 1964 the surgeon general determined pipe smoker’s outlive non-smokers and are relatively innocent of causing lung cancer.

     Most people know better than to mix Religion, Politics and Alcohol.  But occasionally, a combination of two of those three things can be as wise as it is comical.  Such is the case with this particular John R. Butler song… (NSFW)

Note: And an obligatory hat tip to Tall Paul for giving it a mention

Normally I try to not watch the news, but my NetFlix movies are on thier way.  Television over the last two days hasn’t been much fun either, so I turned on WBIR.  You can sum up the two hours of newscast to three phrases:  It’s cold drive carefully, The UT basketball made a piss poor decision and there’s an Italian restaurant in the vicinity of Seymour called Willie’s.  If this is the all real news out there why even have a local newscast?  Even the commercials sucked, there has to be more out there…