ConstantCommentary® Vol. II, No. 16, February 12, 1998

So Sue Me . . .

by Mike Jasper


Remembrance of things... ummmmm.... hmmmm

Last week I forgot to mention two things. First, Bill Clinton's popularity is at an all-time high for a sitting president (no matter what the president's sitting on... couldn't resist). It's either 72% or 79%, depending on which poll you believe (Roper's is the lower, while Bill Maher's of ABC's Politically Incorrect is the higher.)

The only thing Clinton's ever supported that I didn't like was his plan to put an additional 300,000 policeman on the streets. He said it would lower crime. I said it would only increase traffic tickets. But then it hit me: since 9 out of 10 policeman are potential thugs and criminals, his plan WOULD get the criminals off the streets. Two-hundred-seventy thousand of them, by my count.

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One reader of this column by the name of Freitas (who, I might add, is one of the few readers I haven't met in the flesh) suggested I write something about the Bill Gates pie ambush in Belgium. If you didn't see the film or hear about it, Gates got pied by three men who ambushed him at a hotel lobby. One of the pies met its mark (triangulation is the key... worked in Dallas, worked in Bulgaria). Gates's face got Salvador Dalied by either a coconut or banana cream pie (depending on whether you consult Roper or Maher).

I got to tell you: I feel for the guy. I have nothing against him. I probably should, but I'm just not aware of what it should be. He's the richest man in the world, so what? He's still a weak-chinned computer geek. And my only contact with him has been through two of his products. One is the Microsoft Word program I use to type this column. The other is Slate Magazine, an internet publication edited by Michael Kinsley.

Works for me.

I saw the film on my computer. Mac fans -- who hate Bill Gates because he STOLE Windows from the Macintosh operating system -- are circulating the film of the pie-throwing incident on the internet.

Again: it pained me to watch. I used to protect guys like him from bullies when I was a young science geek wannabe. Gates must have thought, "Fuck, I'm the richest man in the world and I'm STILL putting up with the same shit I took in high school."

The richest man in the world should hire some bodyguards.

Now... pie the Pope and I'll laugh my ass off.

* * *

Might as well insert this Microsoft joke here: Microsoft (MSFT) has announced a 54 million dollar lawsuit against Bandai, makers of Tamagotchi. Microsoft is claiming that the Tamagotchi electronic pet is an infringement of its intellectual property.

Microsoft spokesperson Erik Loregard stated, "Software that needs constant attention or else it dies? Sounds like Windows to me. This is clearly an infringement on our technology."

A Bandai spokesperson said that any resemblance to Windows 95 was a "coincidence."

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I gave a Super Bowl party for some musician friends this year. I thought the party would turn into a disaster, but so what? I'd get a column out of it, right? No... such... luck. The game was so good even acoustic musicians got into it.

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On the subject of internet video, have you seen the size of Tommy Lee's schlong? Damn! I knew about Pamela Anderson's tits, but I wasn't prepared for the Motley Crue (or Whitesnake depending... naaaa, I overused the riff) drummer's horse-like proportions when I finally watched the two copulate. It looked the fucking Zapruder film.

* * *

NBC... Now More Than Ever. I can't let this slide? Is there no parody anymore. Anyone see the film The Player. It's about a producer who manslaughters a screenwriter, marries his girlfriend, gets away with it and produces a film about it when he becomes the head of a thriving Los Angeles movie studio. And the studio's motto? Movies... Now More Than Ever.

* * *

This year, I called the 49ers' offense the "Equal Opportunity Offense," since with Jerry Rice out for most of the season all the other no-name receivers got their chance. Had they won the Super Bowl, I might be nationally acclaimed for that phrase, but... no... such... luck.

* * *

Think I'll insert the obligatory sport quotes here:

"The ballparks have gotten too crowded. That's why nobody goes to see the game anymore."
-- Yogi Berra
 
"You guys pair up in groups of three, then line up in a circle"
-- Bill Peterson, a Florida State football coach
* * *

My brother was on Taxi, not the TV show but the internet chat room. Taxi is an organization that helps unknown artists become famous by taking their money in exchange for getting to meet people like my brother, Dan Eagan. Dan (and why he changed his name from Jasper, I'll never know) earns the big money as a music business manager. He handles 7Mary3, Creed and Days of the New and other MTV-like music acts.

The internet connection was shaky, but I managed to join the chat room. I logged on as Armondo69, while Dan's handle was MusBusMgr. Here's an excerpt from the Feb. 10 chat log.

MusBusMgr: (TO THE GROUP) So, to use an analogy, the personal manager might be seen as the president of the company, whereas the business manager is the treasurer, and the producer is the chief operations officer.


Armondo69: (ALSO TO THE GROUP) And it might be helpful to look at the artist as a 12-year-old brat who's suddenly inherited the British throne.

* * *

Picabo Street: Nothing really, just like to write Picabo Street. There's a name you want to scream out during sex.

* * *

Casey Martin -- the PGA golfer with the gimpy leg -- won his lawsuit and will be allowed to use a golf cart during PGA tournaments which means my tryout for the Yankees is ON!

"Come on, I'm 44 and short. Move the fucking left field fence in another 100 feet or so."

I think Martin should be allowed to use a cart, provided he hires an alcoholic Irish midget caddie to cart around with him. "Use the niblick, you fuckin' lassie!"

* * *

The Canadian snow boarder got his gold medal after all. I guess they figured that marijuana wasn't a performance-enhancing drug after all. I mean. It's more like an extra-degree-of-difficulty drug. Not to mention style points. I guess the last words during the committee's deliberations were, "What was he competing in, snow boarding? Hell, let him keep the fucking medal."

* * *

We're going to war. We're going to kick Saddam Hussein's butt... again! Who is this guy, anyway? Is he a Castro, who will keep surviving no matter what the U.S. throws at him? Or is he an evil menace of Hitlerian proportions? Hard to say. All I know is, Boris and the Russians aren't buying into the invasion. Hmmm. Guess they saw the movie.

* * *

Well, I guess I'll close with Steve Cook's letter to the column:

Apropos to (last) week's column, I respectfully submit we no longer call them "blow-jobs," but "Hoovers."
 
"Hoover" (at least to me) does a better job of conveying the true nature of the act, doesn't have the tawdry ring to it that "blow-job" does, and actually creates an atmosphere of whimsy (honestly, if you're having your flute tooted, wouldn't you rather think of yourself as Ed Wynn than some rat-faced bastard straight out of Pat Benatar's "Love is a Battlefield" video? I know, you'd rather think of yourself as Val Kilmer playing Jim Morrison. You damned musicians are all the same).
 
Besides, to paraphrase Bobby Slayton speaking about said-same, there's no blowing involved and it's not a job... more like a holiday. And -- given the President's fondness for receiving the act -- 'Hoover' is more appropriate (this opens up an entirely new thread on associating other presidents names with sexual acts).
* * *

Since it's the funniest line I've written in weeks... one more time: "Use the niblick, you fuckin' lassie!"

* * *

STANDARD DISCLAIMER: This column aims to be funny. If you can read anything else into it, you're on your own. Copyright 1998 by Mike Jasper.