Propeller Skies

Growing up, our family automobiles were always bare bones. My father did not believe in modern conveniences such as air conditioning, power windows, or even power door locks. His theory was more gadgets on the car meant more items to break, which meant more stuff for him to fix. When my brother and I would complain about the massive amount of labor involved in actually rolling a window up by hand, he would regale us with a story about how his neighbor had power windows and spent every single Saturday fixing them.

I ignored my father, assuming that the real reason we never had power windows was they cost extra. All three vehicles I have owned featured power windows, because I am a fat lazy American who is for damn sure not performing manual labor to pick up my supersized combo meal from the drive through. Much to my annoyance, the window on my Acura rolled up crooked after a trip through the Chick-Fil-A drive through Friday morning.

This morning, when I dropped the offending vehicle off at CarMAX for repair I was issued a Ford Focus. As rental cars go, this one is pretty reasonable. In typical American fashion, the interior was clearly designed by fucking accountants. A plethora of cheap plastic all over everything attests to this. Additionally, it would not kill the Ford employees to take a class or two on interior design, because the front is very poorly laid out. Most importantly, THERE IS NO PLACE TO PUT MY IPOD! The front seats are all right, but no match for the sweet buckets in my Acura.

Much to my amazement, the Focus is reasonably powerful. Although acceleration is not as rapid as my Acura, the car does proceed forward hastily when the gas pedal is mashed with authority. In contrast, the Dodge products I find myself driving on business make an impressive amount of noise and leisurely pick up speed when floored. Handling is acceptable, and certainly better than the traditional American feel of a rolling couch. However, during spirited cornering the Focus displays massive amounts of body roll. This is likely due to the suspension being set on candy-ass. How Seth manages to put in respectable times rally crossing a Focus is beyond me.

I do not recommend the Ford Focus. However, to paraphrase the esteemed Cap’n Ken over at The Wisdom, this is not terrible for an American car, but who the fuck would want an American car? I should know, I have owned two out of a misguided sense of patriotism. Or maybe just stupidity.

This week’s Propeller Skies Fucktard Of The Week Award™ actually goes to two people: The White Stripes. Without a doubt, Get Behind Me Satan is the worst album in the history of albums. Blue Orchid starts the album off and has the distinction of being the only song worth a damn. The rest of this effort is utter and complete crap.

Of course, the internet is full of retards spouting pretentious bullshit calling this steaming pile of sloth shit experimental and artistic. Do not listen to them. Instead, spend hard earned ducats on something that rocks, like Rubber Factory by the Black Keys.

[Full disclosure: Smoove D did not bother wasting an hour of his life listening to this piece of shit; the review is based on the thirty second samples available on Amazon. In addition, White Blood Cells and Elephant are on permanent rotation in Smoove's CD changer - Ed.]

It seems my post inaugurating the prestigious Propeller Skies Fucktard Of The Week Award™ has drawn some commentary. Much to my amusement, an anonymous anal bead licker posted the following nonsensical comment, which I will be dissecting and poking fun at sentence by sentence.

“I would Bet the religious freak makes his on way in this world, and is a tax payer.”

First, in English, the word bet should only be capitalized if it is the first word of a sentence or a proper noun. Second, this sentence contains a comma splice, which is unacceptable grammar. Third, what the fuck does this sentence actually mean? “Makes his on way in this world,” makes absolutely no sense and is clearly the effort of a mental midget. Assuming the anonymous ass-farmer meant to type own instead of on does not add any more meaning to the sentence. Let us see if the next sentence sheds any light on this hopelessly weak attempt at communication by an anonymous dumbass.

“I would the bet junkster with the rights to talk stupid Is not worth the salt in his bread.”

Still having problems with inappropriate capitalization, I see. In addition, the word the should only come before a noun. Newsflash: bet is a verb! I am also left wondering what, exactly, is a junkster? Is that something like Friendster for heroin addicts? The end of the sentence at least makes some sense, I think it means worthless since salt is pretty much free. Although why salt in bread would be worth less than any other kind of salt is beyond me. Ignoring the first part of the sentence, I can reasonably conclude that the anonymous dillweed is trying to say that people with freedom of speech are worthless. Therefore, it follows the entire population of the United States of America is worthless. What this has to do with the coveted Propeller Skies Fucktard Of The Week Award™ is beyond me.

“He would not have the guts to fight for any rights his self.”

I think the anonymous chicken molester meant to type himself. Again, what this has to do with making fun of suckers who subscribe to organized religion is unclear. For the record, I would totally fight for my right to party.

“I’ll Bet he has taken more from this goverment than he’s paid in.”

Fucking Christ, would it kill people to use a flippin’ spell checker? I think the anonymous retard is trying to say I have taken more from the government than I have paid in taxes. Guilty as charged, working for The Man and paying taxes to Big Brother is for suckers! I just sit here and surf the internet on the dole all day in my sweet government funded house. Sometimes I like to take a drive around the neighborhood in my Hummer that I bought with WIC. A big shout out to the government for financing my playboy lifestyle, while poor suckers like the anonymous buttmunch work their fingers to the bone and fight to stay above the poverty line.

“In my book that makes him a pile of worthlees shit.”

Two words: spell check. The inscrutable logic of an anonymous turkey fucker is unavoidable: I am a worthless pile of shit because I collect my welfare check every month. Never mind that this theory is not based on anything resembling actual facts. Clearly, anonymous wanker is a… REPUBLICAN TOOL! Yet again, what this has to do with a post making fun of a religious dope is completely outside of my comprehension.

A big Propeller Skies shout out to alert reader Weez for informing us that a picture of the beer pouring hottie at the East Atlanta Beer Festival can be found at the bottom of the Thomas Creek Beer Staff Page.

Yesterday, all the major sports sites were atwitter with the news that Formula 1 racing was finished in America. Apparently, several drivers refused to race on allegedly unsafe tires, angering all five American F1 fans. Amusingly, the drivers who did race were running Bridgestone tires. Savvy readers will recall that Bridgestone’s Firestone brand was famous for exploding when attached to Ford Explorers.

I was surfing the internet Saturday evening, and I came across a site that makes me want to puke my fucking guts out. I was so impressed with the depths of stupidity that this moron descended to, I decided to initiate another coveted Propeller Skies award - the Fucktard Of The Week™. Congratulations, Scott, for receiving the first ever Propeller Skies Fucktard Of The Week Award™.

I have five days until the Catholic Church hires Michael Jackson’s defense team in the office pool.

After reading positive things about Chipotle in Creative Loafing (CL), I decided to try it for myself and see what the buzz was about. This was a big mistake.

The sorry excuse for a burrito that they served me was fucking awful. It featured the nastiest rice I have ever tasted. The black beans were overcooked, mushy, and flavorless. A steaming pile of shit would taste better. In addition to producing asstastic burritos, the cheap bastards charge extra for chips. Therefore, we here at Propeller Skies bestow upon Chipotle the coveted douchebag of the week award.

I recommend never trusting restaurant reviews written by the motherfucking goddamn cocksucking hippie fucktards who write for CL. Idiots.

The Polaroid 1200si I ordered from Amazon just arrived in the mail. It appears to work fine. Stay tuned for further developments.

Monday evening, my commute home from work was fucking spectacular, as I-85 south of GA 400 was wide open. In contrast, traffic normally comes to a screeching halt at that location. The lack of congestion was due to a massive crash on I-85 southbound near North Druid Hills Road, which blocked all the lanes. Based on this experience, I have devised a plan to solve traffic in metro Atlanta. Instead of spending billions on transit improvements and additional roadway capacity, all we really need to do is build a giant concrete wall at the Gwinnett County line.