Roger, Roger!

October 24, 2009

Ah… another dispatch from the “Euphemism Sucks” department:

MINNEAPOLIS, Oct. 22 (UPI) — The pilots of a Northwest Airlines flight that overshot its destination by 150 miles told colleagues they lost “situational awareness,” U.S. officials said.

Huh?

The plane was out of radio contact with air traffic controllers for 78 minutes during the flight from San Diego to the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport Wednesday night, The Wall Street Journal reported. The plane landed safely after controllers re-established contact.

Great!  Glad they’re doin’ just fine.  What’s the beef?

The National Transportation Safety Board said the cockpit crew told other pilots they became involved in a “heated discussion over airline policy and they lost situational awareness.”

Wait… doesn’t that mean “they were all complaining about their bosses and then got fucking lost”?  Who says shit like this?  “Situational awareness”?  George Carlin is probably spinning in his grave:

The NTSB is also investigating the possibility the pilots nodded off during the flight.

Well, THAT’S reassuring.

Pilot distraction and fatigue has been an issue since a Colgan Air commuter plane crashed into a house near the Buffalo airport in February, killing everyone on board and one man on the ground.

Well, yeah, that sucks.

Hearings on the crash have shown both pilots of that plane were probably tired and cockpit recordings show they were chatting during their approach to the airport.

That’s it – no more talking on the job – especially about airline policy, you disgruntled, over-worked fuckers!

The pilots of the Northwest flight have been relieved from flying while the NTSB and other agencies investigate their error.

Now they have even more to bitch about in regards to airline policy.

If only they could have been as engaged in their work as these gentlemen:

Eddie and the Jets.

September 27, 2009

This is news?

FLORHAM PARK, N.J. (AP) — Fireman Ed has something new to cheer about.

OK, then, let’s hear it.

The Jets’ most famous fan received a game ball from coach Rex Ryan during the team meeting Friday for helping lead a raucous Meadowlands crowd during New York’s 16-9 win over New England last Sunday.

Big deal.

“On behalf of the fans and representing the fans, we gave him a game ball,” Ryan said. “There’s two, actually, one in our trophy case and we gave him the other one. He does a great job.”

A great job doing what?  Getting drunk and screaming at football games?

Ed Anzalone, a New York City firefighter, has been coming to every Jets home game for years, wearing a fire helmet and leading the “J-E-T-S! Jets! Jets! Jets!” cheer.

Wow, what an accomplishment.  That’s right up there with finding a cure for cancer.  Imagine looking back at your life and saying, “Yeah, I spent thousands of dollars and hours so I could go and scream and freeze my ass off and watch grown men run around a football field.

“That’s really the first time I’d ever seen him,” Ryan said. “When I was here before as a visitor, I kind of blocked everything out and never really noticed him.

That’s because you were too busy screaming YOUR fucking head off to notice one of just thousands of all-American schmucks in the stands with no identity of their own – which is why they watch sports to begin with!

It’s hard not to notice him when you’re standing on the sideline and he’s getting the fans going and everything else.”

Yeah, because he’s so much more obnoxious than the rest of them.

Ryan sent a voicemail message to season ticket holders last week, urging the fans to make things “miserable” for Tom Brady and the Patriots.

That’s nice.  Isn’t that like both sides in a war invoking their dickless deities to help them win? Or like that pray-for-rain asshole during the DNC last year?

The fans answered that call, and after the victory, Ryan said they were the difference in the team beating New England at the Meadowlands for the first time since 2000.

Let’s win this one for the gipper skipper burger-flipper day-tripper pants-shitter!

“He wasn’t the only fan you would notice, but I don’t know the names of everybody else,” Ryan said. “I’m sure there was Fireman Joe and everybody else out there.

Yeah, along with Machinist Mike and Cabbie Louie and Pizza Man Pete and Drunk Dan and that crazy bitch LuAnn from the office who has football shit all over her cubicle.  You know who I mean.

It was great because they’re our fans and we decided it was a little token of our appreciation to give him a game ball.”

And I’m glad to see that a man with such a huge responsibility as coaching an NFL franchise holds similar command of the English language.

Anzalone was also able to briefly address the men he cheers for.

I wonder if it went something like this: “Um, wow, hey man, can I get a picture with you guys?  Oh wow, this is great, um.  Greatest day of my life.  Other than the birth of my son.”

“He was great,” Ryan said. “He was all fired up. He’s expecting a lot of wins, as are our fans, and he said this is only the start and our guys understand that.”

“Yeah, so we’re gonna keep coming and pouring money into this franchise that makes millionaires out of guys like you so that losers like us can live vicariously through your steroid-ridden lives.”

Anzalone, who usually wears a No. 42 Bruce Harper jersey to games, was included in the Pro Football Hall of Fame’s Hall of Fans in 1999.

I can’t believe there actually is such a thing.

“Their passion is as great as mine is,” Anzalone told the team’s Web site of Jets fans. “There’s no difference. I’m just blessed to be able to lead the orchestra, to get them crazy.”

Yeah, there’s a difference.  The players get crazy money and fly girls, and all you get is a game ball, a sore throat and a hangover.  And “lead the orchestra”?  Listen buddy, if you’re going to compare drunken rabble-rousing with the swing of the maestro’s baton, then I have a suggestion as to where you can display your new game ball.

Just a tasty little nugget o’ cartoon goodness. Enjoy.

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Egg suckin’ dog.

August 30, 2009

The first person that ate an egg?  That guy was a sick, twisted fuck.  “Yeah, that object that just came out of a chicken’s ass?  I’m gonna eat that.”

Speaking of eggs, long live Johnny Cash.

So, I spent 165 precious minutes watching “The Curious Case Of Benjamin Button” last night, and let me tell you folks, you can take it right out of your Netflix queue right now.

With all due respect to F. Scott Fitzgerald, let me sum it up for you – have you seen Forrest Gump?

Yes?  Good, then you’ve already seen a movie about some fucked up kid from the South who was wandering around aimlessly in life during some of history’s most pivotal moments, whose mother rattled off equally trite and annoying Hallmark sentiments, and who loved some douche-bag of a girl who didn’t deserve his affections.

No, you haven’t seen The Gump?  Then I envy you.

Just go rent something else, anything else.