God is too tired to smite.

So this Easter I started reflecting on a few things from the bible. One of the things I noticed is that God hasn't done any major smiting since the days of Moses. What happened? There are lots of good canidates out there, if one puts ones mind to it.

Al Qaida: I can see how this is a difficult one. Even God has trouble finding Osama bin Ladin. Perhaps a plague outbreak in the boondock areas of Aghanistan and Pakistan, if I may suggest?

My mailman: When you are a mailman, but you are too fat to get your ass out of the car to put a package on my front porch, you deserve to be smited.

Debt collecting companies: If there is a more sleazy, less rewarding occupation for all of mankind they both need to smiting.

That guy with the horrible Australian accent on the Outback Steakhouse Commercials: I feel bile enter my mouth now anytime someone mentions the word "steakhouse".

Greensboro, NC and surrounding area: Someone needs to drop some fire and brimstone on that place. Especially Kernersville. The place resembles my dog's anal cavity for some reason.

Whoever created clingwrap: God, that stuff pisses me off. "Let's create some plastic to keep food fresh. However, the dispenser will be a big, jagged blade that only cuts hands, not plastic. And so when the user tries to dispense a piece it will cling upon itself, creating a ball of plastic that will only partly cover the food." That person is godless.

My co-worker, Todd: He thinkes he's the smiter, but he shall be the one to be smotted, er smitten.

Maybe it's a good idea I don't have the power to smite. Wait a second. George W. has the football not too far from him...

*D.S. Trosdahl~~

Miami Vice President

Dick Cheney, sticking with the old Bush credo of "Shoot first, ask questions later", blasted a lawyer a couple of weeks ago. It is rumored that after the incident, the vice president rifled through Harry Whittington's coat pockets, searching in vain for weapons of mass destruction.

It was said that Mr. Whittington suffered a mild heart attack when one of the pellets struck his chest. I have to say, I would have a mild heart attack if I saw one of the Bush Adminstration holding any kind of a weapon.

What a stroke of genius! Let's send the vice president over to Afghanistan/Pakistan. Tell him he's looking for quail. He'll find Osama Bin Ladin in no time!

*D.S.Trosdahl~~

Baby on (Dash) Board

Here comes the next stop in Britney Spears' transition from glowing pop-star, to white-trash queen. As if marrying loser-rapper-wannabe-trailer-boy Kevin Fedderline wasn't bad enough, you become the mother of his child. Next you hold said child on your lap as you drive from starbucks. In Britney's defense car seats are friggin' expensive. Not only that, but it looks very tacky in your 2006 Escalade.

Britney has released a statement through People Magazine explaining her actions. She says while her bodyguard was in Starbucks getting her a coffee, the paparazzi began to swarm her car while she took her son out of his car seat to wait for her coffee. When the bodyguard returned Britney feared for her child's safety and so drove away saying, "I instinctively took measures to get my baby and me out of harm's way."

So driving down the highway holding a coffee in one hand, the kid in the other, driving with your knees is a "measure to get my baby and me out of harm's way"? The lack of common sense of people sometimes scares me.




*D.S. Trosdahl~~

5 Things learned January of 2006

1.) The first six cups of coffee are good. But there's something about that seventh or eighth cup that doesn't set well with the stomach.

2.) Holding a fart in is like holding your breath for a minute. It's not worth it. At some point your going to need to make up for all the breaths you didn't take.

3.) How many cop dramas and lawyer shows do you really need on TV at one time? Is it me or are there like 8 named CSI or Law and Order?

4.) Candy jewlery is gross. However, it's cheap. "Happy Valentine's Day honey!"

5.) If you are going to go postal, at least have the guts to shoot yourself first.

Bush sucks
*D.S.Trosdahl~~

Valentine's Pay
Here it comes. That magically day of being overcharged for everything from flowers, to stuffed bears. How did this even become a holiday? "Well, St. Valentine died in prison, but he sent out cards to all his followers. To mark his death, let's sell over-priced cards and boxes of assorted chocolates!" F*ck corporate America!

What an awful day to be a kid, eh? Some of you more popular people may not remember back in third grade, when we had to build those valentine's day card holders, made from old reebok boxes, to hold all of our cards in. It kind of sucks when you only have three cards in that basturd, one from the teacher, one from mom, and the other says "To Stacy", so obviously someone mistook your box for one of the cheerleaders (don't cry Dan). F*ck corporate America!

How about highschool? Girls waiting for someone to ask them to the Valentine's Day dance because they don't want to go stag and boys getting rejected because they haven't got enough self-confidence to fill a peanut shell. F*ck corporat... Wait, that one isn't their fault. Oh well, f* corporate America and high school!

For the women: Guys will break up with you just before Valentine's Day to avoid having to buy presents, et al. F*ck corporate America!

I think they should change the name from Valentine's Day to National Obligatory Sex Day. Because If I'm going to buy all this stuff, then I want some sex. No excuses!

Oh yeah. F*ck corporate America! Bush sucks.
*D.S.Trosdahl~~

The Super Blah
Did you hear that sound? It's the sound of advertisers everywhere groaning in discust.
This year's superbowl features the Pittsburg Steelers, the sixth seed in the AFC, versus the Seattle Seahawks the top seed in the NFC. The saddest part, Seattle, a city known better for its coffee and suicide rate than its sports' teams, is predicted by most to lose the superbowl.

Of course I'm a Viking fan. I'm 25. So, I've never been able to watch the superbowl with any personal feelings on the line. The superbowl is merely a reason for me to eat and drink way too much and wake up on a work day feeling like ass. Not only that, it's the only time during the entire year where I'd rather watch the advertisements instead of the game.

Now, if you'll excuse me I have some beer to drink and commercials to watch.

*D.S. Trosdahl~~

Tiny tini's aren't tiny

Holy shit. My wife just made me a dirty martini. What a dirty martini is, for those of you that don't know, is taking a fifth of vodka, sprinkling a little olive juice in it, garnishing with a pair of olives and serving. I think my car can run a hundred miles on two of them. I swear my chest hair grew a couple of inches. Thank you Mrs. Trosdahl. You are the olive... I mean apple of my eye!

*D.S. Trosdahl~~

King Kloooooooong

I can’t believe this is my first post of 2006. I’m neglectful and it’s just not right. Anyhow, over the break I got a chance to see the much hyped, hugely anticipated King Kong. Whilst the special effects were good, and the action scenes were suspenseful, Peter Jackson needs to shut the f*ck up. Good God almighty! The thing stretched out like laffy taffy. I swear I needed ass replacement surgery by the end of it.

Now some movies can last a day and a half and you don’t even realize/care... King Kong was not one of these. It reminded me a lot of Lord of the Rings Return of the King. Pete had to have dozens of those, slow motion, close up, reaction shots. You know the ones I’m talking about. They happen every time Naomi Watts’s character so much as sneezes, we have to have a close up look at the monkey’s face. He holds the shots for way to f*cking long, making you and everyone else in the theatre uncomfortable to the point of squirming.

Peter Jackson did us no favors during the course of this movie, seeming to not cut anything… Except for one of the most important parts. How in the living hell did a rickety ass freighter carry a several ton monkey across the Indian and Atlantic oceans to New York City? After we see Kong hit with two big assed bottles of chloroform and not even slow down, Jack Black’s character hits him with one bottle that magically knocks him out almost instantaneously. The scene then shifts to New York. What the hell happened? I want to know how they transported this guy to the other side of the world on a ship that had been hit with rocks and the crew was dumping anything that wasn’t bolted down into the ocean to conserve weight.

Other Points of interest:

*Jack Black needs to stick with comedy. He has the dramatic acting chops of Bozo the Clown. “It was beauty that killed the beast.” What better way to end a three hour, tortuous movie then with the cheesiest line I have ever heard uttered on film.

*At the end of the movie, we’re gearing up for the big battle between Kong and the airplanes. Suddenly Kong is ice-skating? Jesus. Can’t we just end the movie already? By this time I want the army to kill Kong, to put me out of my misery.

*Colin Hanks sighting. Not just anyone can make it in the movie industry… Unless your dad’s name is Tom Hanks.

*So dinosaurs huh? Looks like they stole one of Lost’s plotlines for this season (Scratch off Matthew Fox fighting raptors).

I'm going to take a bottle of sleeping pills and lay down for a while.

*D.S. Trosdahl~~

Bubble Boy

Today during a press conference George W. Bush claimed "I don't feel like I'm in a bubble." After this statement his mother, Barbara, came out to put his goulashes on him.

Bush went on to inform the American people that he does know what's in the news. "Every morning I look at the newspaper," Bush told NBC. "I can't say I've read every single article in the newspaper. But, I definitely know what's in the news." He added, "That darn Garfield gets into all sorts of trouble, heh. Sometimes I feel like Family Circus is my life!"

This is our president. Shielded from fundamentally sound ideas by the puppet master, Vice President Dick Cheney, our leader goofs his way from one political debacle to the next. Good lord almighty! His approval rating sits at 39% on the CNN/USA Today Gallup poll from last month. Thirty-nine percent! That's like Texas, and five other "red" neck states and that's it.

Okay, I’ll admit though I voted for him, I wasn’t a huge fan of John Kerry. I think I would have rather voted for Jim Carrey, but there’s no way in God’s green earth that he could have done a worse job than Bush Co. The economy is crap, we have no exit strategy in Iraq (because the minute we leave the government is going to collapse and all out civil war will ensue), he is sending all of our jobs to India, he hasn’t captured Osama bin Ladin, and he wants to tear up some of the most pristine areas of Alaska to drill for oil.

Just look at any picture of him and you have to question whether there is any actual thoughts traversing his mind. He looks like a Brazilian Pygmy for Christ sake! Please, please, next election think of this before you elect Jeb Bush to the presidency!

"Bubbles? I love those things. Dick will blow them and I will pop them. Heh, we're a good team!"

*D.S. Trosdahl~~

Don't Squeeze the Charmin

What the hell is with toilet paper. In 2005 we can't come up with an easy way of getting that first sheet? Do we need different colored t.p.? Could Charmin please find a better ad campaign? To start with, let's go somewhere no one wants to go, a Dan scenerio.

I'm sitting on the toilet, look over and realize that my wife has used up all the t.p. I curse a couple of times and hobble over to get a new roll. I hobble back and have to stare at it for several moments while I try to figure out where the "beginning" is. That's really the key, which sheet is the official "beginning". Frustrated I choose a sheet to be the "beginning". Now's the part where I get several levels of sheets and so I'm not sure which is the "beginning". I generally swear again, and take an entire wad and go from there.

Too graphic? Tell that to Charmin. And while your at it, what the f@ck is with those Charmin bear commercials by the way? I don't want to imagine the shit that is created by a cartoon bear that size. I also don't want to see that disgusting look of satsifaction after it uses Charmin toilet paper. Ugh.

If you are already in the Charmin office complaining about the first two points (good for you, I didn't realize this blog had that kind of power over you) let them know we don't want black toilet paper. Apparently black toilet paper is the rage in Japan. There's a lot of things wrong with this idea, but in the appearance of good taste (ha! not in this blog), I shall refrain from naming them and allow you to draw your own conclusions.

Man, after this post I feel dirty. I'm going for a shower.

*D.S. Trosdahl~~

5 Things Learned: November 2005

1.) When a bar of soap has dissolved into one of those skinny shavings, fight that cheap basturd inside your consciousness and buy a new bar. If you don't want to "waste" it, feel free to collect a dozen of them and attach them to a small string, making a Deodorant bracelet or necklace out of them.

2.) Childproof is to Child what unguarded bank vault is to a robber.

3.) Someone should really tell Superman to put his underwear on first.

4.) George W Bush has plagiarized the Curious George series just by living.

5.) Thanksgiving for two means leftovers for a week and a half.

*D.S. Trosdahl~~

Please try this at home

Okay, so I've been out awhile. I know all my writing fans out there (all two of them) have been disappointed with the long wait. Call it a Turkey Day hangover. But it gave me plenty of time to think of something that has really bothered me over the past couple of months. Commercials.

The commercials I'm thinking of involve automobiles. There are two in particular that make me want to find the creative genius behind them, and strangle him with a stero cord.

The first commercial, I think is Ford (it could be Chevy, either way, its asinine), involves a lengthy explanation of how strong the bolts that hold the bed of the pickup to its body or something, I generally start to lose interest and fade in-and-out of consciousness when I realize which ad is on. Then the truck is hoisted, ass end up, by a crane attached by just one of those bolts. Impressive. But then the most annoying thing happens. A little scientist-looking dude seems to step underneath the truck, hanging by a cord. First off, you can tell he isn't directly under it, he's actually standing behind it (Ford/Chevy isn't about to risk an impressive lawsuit over this commercial). Secondly, a little message pops up at the bottom of the screen that informs you, the home viewer, who are most likely middle to lower class, not to try this at home. Let that sink in for a second. Okay, are you officially dumbed down? Like who in the living Christ has a goddamn crane sitting in his garage? Not on a $1000 a month mortgage you don't.

The second commercial is one for Jeep. This one literally makes me pull my hair out. My wife will ask what I'm doing and I'll tell her I couldn't help it, the commercial and all. She just smiles and makes a mental note to up my meds. Anyhow, this commercial simply involves a jeep supposedly driving at the bottom of the ocean. The kids in the back seat stare out through the sun roof pointing out which sharks and fish are their favorites. The Jeep emerges and another one of those messages appears. It says something about "Dramitization, Jeep is not used for this kind of activity, do not try at home".

Why do we even have these messages on either commercial? This fact has been stated about stupid, lawsuit driven messages before, but I will restate in one word. Darwin. Let’s let Darwin have his way. We’ll be better off without these people. And maybe, just maybe, the writers behind these heinous commercials will have a truck drop on their collective heads while standing at the ocean floor, ridding us of stupid car commercials once and for all. Amen.

*D.S. Trosdahl~~

K.entucky F.ried C.rap

KFC's new ad campaign has gotten on my nerves. So much so, it's time to vent a little. In their most recent commercial a middle-aged, balding man is eating his lunch. A woman walks in and starts heckling him. Apparently he's literally a rocket scientist and he spent $8 at a casual sit-down type restaurant, whilst she went to fancy schmancy KFC and got a meal for $4. She then laughs all condescendingly at him because he's the rocket scientist and he should have known better. Mwa ha ha ha ha ha ha!

Skank.

First of all, if we're going based on quality of food, anyone can dunk a rat in a fat fryer and call it chicken. If I want chicken that tastes like homemade (my wife, by the way, makes a damn fine chicken) I won't be going to KFC. Secondly, in the ad it clearly states, “Beverage not included”. Which means, tack on another buck twenty-five. If tax is also not included, we’re now up near $6.

So take that KFC! And if you ever, ever laugh at me condescendingly again I’ll shove your face in that fat fryer! All right Chili’s, TGIFriday’s, and Rockola, I expect some compensation for standing up for you. I’ll have my people talk to your people.

*D.S. Trosdahl~~

Talentless in Louisiana

Oh god. Did anybody hear Kevin Federline's first attempts at becoming a mainstream Rap Artist? Didn't think so. I get the feeling you will continue not to hear much. Here's a bit of what he has to offer.

"Back then, they called me K-Fed, but you can call me Daddy instead."

"My prediction is that y'all gonna hate on the style we create, straight 2008."

Please make him stop. We're talking about a guy that will be considered the Aaron Carter of the rap world. The Pauly Shore of the acting community. The proverbial Tom Arnold of comedians. This guy's fifteen minutes have already come and gone. The only reason you still see him is the fact that he's grasping Britney's coat tails so hard the Paparazzi can't get a clean shot of her without him. If anyone buys this crappy album, called "the truth", coming out next year, each of them should be methodically shot. The Truth? The Truth is Kevin the amount of space you've taken up in this blog is more than you are worth. DTroz out.



Isn't that the guy that use to sleep in the dumpster outside my old apartment?
*D.S. Trosdahl~~

What, me worry?

Ever feel like you are part of some large-scale psychological experiment? Like everyone you know is a control subject and you are the test subject? I get that a lot. I'll be at work, checking my cubicle for the hidden cameras, searching my co-workers for "wires", etc. It's like I'm in the book 1984, waiting for Big Brother's minions to carry me away one day, leaving my cube vacant, as if no one was ever there...

Am I paranoid or is the janitor making notes about me behind my back? Is it my imagination or does my boss go through my stuff when I'm not around? Where the hell is this blog going? Point, I need a point and fast. Oh yeah paranoia. Good, sweet paranoia.

Why is it that whenever a cop (even the local po po) pulls behind me, I get the distinct impression they’re going to pull me over? I'll be driving 37 in a 35 zone and I'll drop down to 34, just in case. What the hell is that?

When I go to a fast food place I wonder if any of my meal ended up on the floor at any one point during its creation. The 5-second rule be damned. Or did some snotty fifteen year old foul it up some other way (please, let your imaginations wander)?

I swear that my tire is going to blow, the check engine light is going to come on, or my car is going to die whenever I drive somewhere. I turn the radio down. Did my car just make a clunking sound, or did I go over a bump? Is that smoky smell coming from my Focus, or the polluted red neck wreck of a truck in front of me?

Was that noise down stairs caused by my two cats trying to kill each other or a burglar? Was that just the stupid nut tree dropping shit on my car or some shit head nut job stealing the CDs out of my car?

Time to submerge myself inside the bubble, go to sleep, and think happy thoughts.

*D.S. Trosdahl~~

Anal Probes down; Alien tourism on the decline

The number of alien sightings in our country has dropped well below the national average the past several years. Some fear gas prices in Alpha Centuri have caused lower interstellar travel. Others claim the instability in the Middle East have kept many aliens away. But I know the true reason… Aliens have already learned enough about us and are bored.

How sad is that? Human beings have been around for at least 10,000 years (depending on your various religious affiliations) developing different cultures, literature, and art. And in about sixty years of anal probing, extraterrestrial life is done with us. I for one feel violated.

What does that mean to me? Well, it makes me think we’re the Steve Eurkel of the galaxy; the George W. of politics, if you will. Earth is like that guy at work that you are forced to invite to your party, because you invited everyone else. But he’s uninteresting and no one has anything in common with him, so they choose to ignore him. Yeah, that’s us.

So the question is; what can we do? Well, for starters, most people who get abducted by aliens are unshaven, unshod, redneck hillbillies. It actually surprises me slightly that aliens kept coming back to anal probe these people for six decades. So I say we need to give them someone new, fun, and interesting to study. Rachel McAdams should be probed. There are others, but I won’t name them here as my wife may decide to scalp me and sell the top of my head on E-Bay, but you get the picture. Even if we can give them someone whose most recent shower was not a drizzle last week, perhaps we can generate new interest in our species.

We have an Earth Day, why not a Mars Day? Let everyone dress up as their favorite off-worlder (I’ve always been partial to Alf), show some Alien pride. Let’s not have a parade however. People may get confused as to which Pride Day they are at…

I mentioned in a previous blog that I would like to speed up our technological advances. What better way then ask species who fly through space on a daily basis? So put on that old E.T. t-shirt that’s getting moldy in your attic, put on that tin foil hat (as in Signs), and let’s phone home!

*D.S. Trosdahl~~

Meteorology: Writers needed

If America is going to improve, it has to happen one small piece at a time. I believe my suggestions could do a lot of good to reaching that end. For instance, forecasting hurricanes could use some improvements.

Let’s start with hurricane naming. If you tell me that Stan is coming over to visit, even if I’ve never met this person, it doesn’t exactly strike fear into the core of my being. Hurricane names are awful. From Ophelia, which sounds like a Shakespearan shemale, to Pablo, a little Mexican waiter, hurricane-naming conventions could definitely stand for some modifications. First of all, more dangerous sounding names need to be implemented to force residents to evacuate. Can you imagine Hurricane Vinny coming to break your kneecaps? How about Hurricane Tyrone? That’s not a brother you want to piss off. There are others such as Hurricane Herpes or Hurricane Mad Cow, that make me want to pack up and move inland. If worst comes to worst we can break out some of the truly horrendous-sounding names, like Hurricane N’sync or Hurricane Ricky Martin.

Not only do hurricane names need to change, but also their system of gauging a hurricane’s strength needs to be different. Category 5 sounds like something I marked on my taxes last year. Let’s come up with something a little more imaginative and descriptive:

Category Lights Out (Category 1) – Meaning, if this hurricane is bearing down, prepare to lose your power.

Category Treehouse (Category 2) – any trees in your front lawn will now reside inside your living room.

Category Volvo (Category 3) – The storm can blow a station wagon through your front door.

Category Ass water (Category 4) – Your house will be submerged in sewage.

Category Moving Day (Category 5) – Your current residence is about to change addresses, so you might as well also.

Something else that needs to change is to remove idiots from the weather channel from the beachheads. If the city or state government is advocating evacuation, would someone tell those dumbshit weather reports that they are not doing a very good job of leading by example? Cripes. Not only that but even our beloved Al Roker (mentioned in a previous blog) tried to get swept to sea during Hurricane Wilma (before stomach stapling this would have been an impossible task!).

Let’s get these changes instituted as soon as possible. Something that is several hundred miles wide and travels as fast as I can jog should never catch a city or state “unawares”. America is a big place; I’ll spread my wisdom as fast as I can.

*D.S. Trosdahl~~

My Cat Needs Weight Watchers

My wife and I have two cats. They have the Laurel and Hardy thing going on. One is skinny the other is a solid black morbidly obese feline. I’m talking friggin’ huge. Think Sally Struthers. Marlon Brando. Old Elvis. I think you’re getting the picture. So here’s the deal. He’s a massive glob of fur and fat, and yet, I don’t feed him all that much. He doesn’t like treats, and for the most part he leaves people food strictly alone. Which begs the question, why is he so goddamn fat?

Inactivity is probably part of it. I don’t think I’ve seen a living being move so little since that woman on What’s Eating Gilbert Grape?. Occasionally he’ll get up and chase the smaller cat around. Perhaps climb our steps to feed on dry cat food. That’s about it.

There is the possibility that after we go to bed at night, he goes into the fridge and fixes himself some leftover fried chicken and a Miller Highlife, I’m not sure. I need to figure this out before PETA starts camping out outside my house, protesting that I’m over-feeding my cat.

I think he’s starting to take my verbal abuse to heart though. Every so often he’ll start puking for no apparent reason. I gather he’s semi bulimic. If that doesn’t work I guess I’ll just get him to lose weight the old fashioned way. Mix in a bunch of diet pills with a slim fast shake and make him snort some coke. Watch the pounds melt off!

*D.S. Trosdahl~~

Five Things Learned – October 2005,

1. A watch that states it’s water resistant up to 100 meters actually means it is water resistant outside of 100 meters from water.

2. A death sentence equals 20 years of life.

3. Tax Refunds aren’t free money. It’s money the Government borrowed from you and is finally paying you back a year later.

4. Children age four times faster than adults.

5. Dust is made up of mostly dead skin cells. So I’ve decided to gather enough dust to form a corpse.

Oh, it ended weird.

*D.S. Trosdahl~~

A Roker leash

Al Roker, if you are reading this blog I will do anything, absolutely anything for just one favor. I will tattoo your name on my chest and prance down Times Square screaming your praises. I will bookmark the Today show on my TV for the rest of the century. Hell, I’ll break into other people’s houses and bookmark the Today show on their TVs for the rest of the century. Just please, please, don’t go through with your reality show!

There are already plenty of useless reality shows on television (Martha Stewart Apprentice, Biggest Loser, etc). Do we really need one about dogs? That’s right; Al has created a show that has hidden cameras to catch dogs being disobedient, and then he has some hard ass animal trainer whip them into shape. My first question is why are the cameras hidden? The damn dog doesn’t know the difference. Second of all, who the @#%^ cares if someone else’s dog is being disobedient? As long as it’s shitting on their floor and not mine, I could give a rat’s ass.

This is more reality madness that must be stopped! What next? Cat’s on the rampage!? Teaching Birds how to talk? Come on Al. If you won’t do it for me, please, do it for the children.

*D.S. Trosdahl~~