“It’s what I’m going to do in the future … and the future begins here,” I said,
“It is time for the same old same old to sit down and let others speak through
an outlet. I can be that outlet.” Good times.
According to Rumor Control, I lost by a pitiful 20 votes. I am glad I didn’t
win. I didn’t want that kind of responsibility back then. It was more about the
experience of running for Senior Class President that tickled my fancy.
It paid off being an über nerd when I inspired a fellow drip to run for student
council office. He lost:
From: “shim slady”
To:
Sent: Wednesday, 18 April, 2001 4:04 PM
Subject: Re: RAD 2020 Buttons
Tell me about this scandal that you were almost suspended for. I actually was
the freshman homecoming attendant... I don’t know how that happened. People used
to like me, now they hate me, and because of that, I might actually win this
stupid election.
-C
Posted by RAD at 06:12 PM | Comments (5)
'Colorful Colorado'
Governor Owens announced "Colorful Colorado" as the official state quarter. I
knew it would win.

Posted by RAD at 11:28 AM | Comments (3)
May 27, 2005
Star Droog B&G
There are many things I am passionate about. One of them is space, the mysteries
and wonder of the universe above. Another is biscuits and gravy.
About 3 years ago, in honor of my friends, the Droogs, and our biscuits and
gravy rituals, I got a star named Droog B&G (biscuits and gravy).
Star Droog B&G can be found in the heavens at RA 18h54m..04s Decl. 58d 47’.

The glorious Star Droog B&G (approx, in red)
Posted by RAD at 11:17 AM | Comments (2)
Locked out? Try the poo-poo dance
I locked myself out of my house yesterday afternoon. The door locks behind me.
I was leaving to run some errands. I had my wallet, checkbook, ballpoint pen and
cellular techno phone. I closed the door and immediately realized that I had
left my keys inside on the counter. FUCK! I haven’t had spare house keys made
since I moved in. As I sat on the steps, forlorn, I heard the phone ringing
inside. Why must the landline telephone mock me?
There was a rumbling in my insides. It wasn’t a sickness due to my incompetence.
The freakish laws of nature reared their ugly head because as soon as the horror
set in that I was locked out, I immediately had to take a bowel movement. Go
figure. I try to shy away from toilet humor but by golly, this event, while not
funny at the time, is hilarious now.
I called my sister. She was asleep. I called my mom. She wasn’t at home. I
called normsquatch and thankfully he was around. He gave me a telephone number
for a locksmith. I did the poo-poo dance for an hour before the locksmith
arrived to a sulfur fart funk that surrounded me like a small cloud of deadly
atmosphere. 30 seconds and $65 dollars later, the door was open. I paid the
locksmith and rushed past him towards the bathroom, motorcycle tooting the whole
way. Each labored step created an echoing fart that propelled me faster and
faster like some sort of science fiction ion-pulse drive. It was the most
wonderful shit I ever took.
I will be getting spare house keys made today after work.
Posted by RAD at 08:14 AM | Comments (4)
camera clock
Check out this neat clock with hidden camera on the inside:

Posted by RAD at 08:11 AM | Comments (0)
May 26, 2005
66-YEAR-OLD CRIME SOLVED
Thursday January 8, 2009
DENVER, CO -- A 66-year-old Denver murder mystery has been solved in Garland,
Texas. Not by cold-case detectives and not by the police. It was sheer luck.
Like a scene from a movie or a page from a book, it was on his deathbed that the
criminal admitted to the horrific crimes.
In a bizarre story from Garland, local pastor, community leader and serial
rapist Adrian Alan, 87, admitted to a series of four brutal rapes and one murder
that for one month terrified Denver women in March and April of 1943. At the
time, Denver police had no leads. The case remained unsolved.
Now, almost 7 decades later, the case was cracked suddenly when Alan, succumbing
to cirrhosis of the liver due to chronic alcoholism, admitted to staff at the
Fielder Hospice his heinous crimes a few hours before he died. Hospice employees
immediately contacted the authorities.
Alan, a bomber pilot during World War II, was stationed at Denver’s Lowry Field
from March 1 through April 5, 1943, precisely during the month-long period when
the crimes took place. Alan flew B-24 Liberator bombers out of Australia in the
southwest and western Pacific during the war. Alan was a member of the 530th
Squadron of the 380h Bombardment Group. Alan is survived by two daughters, four
grandchildren and two great-grandchildren. The family has not commented at this
time.
The community is shocked by the disturbing news. “Obviously Pastor Alan found
the Lord and used Jesus’ guidance to relieve his conscious of the terrible sins
he done so many years ago,” said Carla Piper, a member of Alan’s congregation at
the Covenant of Dignity Conformist Presbyterian Church.
None of the four women who where raped are still living.
In an even stranger local twist, according to the March 1943 police reports, one
of the victims was Cassie Calhoun, the grandmother of Timothy Calhoun, Denver’s
most notorious disaster-wielding private space flight resident. Calhoun, who
designed the infamous Ansari X-Prize contender Yellowstone spacecraft that
crashed during its second manned flight, killing both crewmembers and seven
people on the ground in the summer of 2005, declined comment. Repeated calls to
the Pinion Haus offices at the Teatro Tower remained unreturned.
The Calhoun family, once prominent shareholders of Denver’s 5280 Water Works, is
perhaps best renowned in Denver for legend Elias Calhoun, author of “The Legacy
of the Calhoun: A Mountain Man's Life Journey in the West,” a 'history' book
generally regarded as an exaggerated narrative about growing up in the
rough-and-tumble Wild West from 1856 to 1900.
The 1943 murder caused a media sensation. The victim was Denver-native Silke
Baucom, a 23-year-old radio performer and writer for Rocky Mountain Life
magazine. A minor celebrity, “Har Har Choyley!” was her signature one-liner
catch phrase. At the time of the murder, the magazine’s obnoxious editor, Willie
Cooper, stated, “I taught Miss Baucom, whose broad talents I discovered by mere
accident. She blossomed into a brilliant comedian and a damn fine writer. She is
an irreplaceable member of my staff and will be sorely missed.”
Alan will be laid to rest on Saturday.
###
Posted by RAD at 11:17 AM | Comments (1)
May 25, 2005
Star Wars Idiots Burned
NOTE TO SELF:
Never fill fluorescent light tubes with gasoline in an effort to create my own
makeshift lightsaber effects.
Two "Star Wars" idiot fans were critically injured when they tried to replicate
the lightsabers by doing just that. Stupes.
Posted by RAD at 01:24 PM | Comments (4)
Hot for ISRU
I’m hot for ISRU (In-Situ Resource Utilization). ISRU uses the resident
materials and energy sources on other worlds (the moon, Mars) to support human
and robotic exploration. Without ISRU-derived materials, space travelers would
have to haul all necessary building and survival materials from Earth. Space
exploration is all about weight, so transporting those materials from Earth
would be a bad idea.
Materials resulting from ISRU would be propellant, energy, water and oxygen.
Even now, NASA challenges the scientific community with MoonROx (Moon Regolith
Oxygen). For those of you who are unfamiliar with geology terms, regolith is the
layer of loose, fragmented rock and dust of various sizes that rest on bedrock,
covering the surface planets, moons, asteroids etc. Regolith is also called
mantle rock.
MoonROx is a $250,000 prize to any scientist who discovers a way of extracting
breathable oxygen from moondust before the prize expires on June 1, 2008. Better
get cracking you wacky scientists.
Here is a fascinating paper about In-Situ Resource Utilization for Human Mars
Exploration that was presented to the Mars Robotic & Human Exploration Strategic
Roadmap Team in February 2005. Read it.
Posted by RAD at 10:39 AM | Comments (0)
May 24, 2005
sloven
The word of the day is sloven
sloven
[n] 1.) One who is habitually careless in personal appearance or work. 2.) A
coarse obnoxious person.
Pronunciation: slov-en
Use sloven in a sentence. Here are my contributions:
1.) That sloven assfedora made me want to strike his festering expression.
2.) Emperor Palpatine sure was sloven when he fought Master Yoda.
3.) The woman in the cubicle next to me was so sloven that I felt shady just
being near her.
4.) I’m cuckoo for sloven.
Posted by RAD at 10:16 AM | Comments (1)
May 20, 2005
Review of Star Wars: Episode III Revenge of the Sith (2005)
Spoilers follow the ‘spoiler disclaimer’. What comes first is the atmosphere and
related adventure of seeing the movie on opening day.
There where 21of us waiting in line outside the United Artists Continental
Theatre in Denver Colorado on Thursday May 19, 2005, the 7pm opening day
screening of Star Wars: Episode III Revenge of the Sith. Glory, glory
halleluiah.
The Continental @ 3635 S. Monaco Parkway was the perfect venue to see this
movie. I’ve seen countless motion pictures on the Continental’s massive giant
screen, including Return of the Jedi and the re-released Star Wars Trilogy
Special Editions. My brother and I spent the night sitting on the sidewalk in
front of the theatre to score tickets for the Episode IV A New Hope special
edition on opening day. MELT and my sister even once worked there. My sister’s
initials and a smallish peace symbol are carved into the concrete sidewalk on
the side of the building. Seeing this movie anywhere else would be wrong.
A lot of Droogs, their friends and even a few of our parents tailgated with the
hordes of other Wars fans also waiting in line. A tailgate party at a movie
theatre? Indeed brother. Our group was near the head of the line, surrounded by
bratty kids recklessly swinging their toy lightsabers, ganging-up and picking on
other equally unpleasant children sporting cheapy Darth Vader costumes. I saw
one swarthy child wearing a common green bed sheet as a cape. One fellow was
dressed as Darth Maul but carried a BLUE lightsaber! Sacrilege.

My Star Wars costume was a hideous Hawaiian shirt and “trucker” cap. I was
mocked more by my friends than the fiendish Wars costume geeks. Overall, the
line experience was surreal but a joyful event. It’s extraordinary when friends
and family gather together to experience a common movie joy that is both
entertaining and science-fictiony. Max and I came to the conclusion that had we
brought our lightsabers, we could have easily taken out the kids in several,
effortless strokes … PERMANENTLY!
Jägermeister, Sonic burgers, soders and special, marshmallowy coco rice crispy
treats were the pre-show feast. Nachos, coke and peanut butter M&Ms, all with
Star Wars imagery adorning the packages because the marketing frenzy for this
event has gone freakishly out of control, were the show time feast. “Typical
movie grubs and treats Jägermeister and nachos are,” Master Yoda would say.

I thought the Star Wars tissue paper toilet seat safe guards where a nice touch.
I gave fully myself to the Dark Side as an image of Darth Vader’s gleaming
helmet protected my ass from the filthy toilet seat in the bathroom. I heard
from my sources that there were R2-D2 “girly” trashcans in the women’s
restrooms; a superior place to put those used feminine products. Don’t forget to
tip the dark-cloaked Sith bathroom attendant.
The line began to move approximately 20 minutes before show time. We dashed
inside. I got the eats and treats. I parked myself in my seat with over 900
other people in the auditorium. The movie began soon enough.

A partial group photo while waiting in line
*This review will have spoilers so be wary. I sense a tiny brawl in the Force.*
Once the 20th-Century Fox Fanfare with Cinemascope extension began, I knew I was
in for a wild ride. The Lucas has done it. He has fulfilled my childhood dreams.
Everything I knew I loved about the Star Wars was confirmed with the movie ROTS.
It was, in essence, spectacular. I’m not a very critical Star Wars fan. I have
stated many times that I enjoyed the first two prequels despite the poor acting,
poor writing, child-leaning gags and goofy characters. I loved the original
trilogy even more of course, because they started the whole phenomenon and I was
raised and weaned on them.
In order to keep this relatively short, I will give some of my impressions of
the movie.
Lavish special effects, wonderful sound design and Johnny Williams’ score were
all excellent as usual. Williams finished up strongly and has made a memorable
collection of music for the complete 6 films.
About the FX, Lucas’ team at Industrial Light and Magic took the viewer to
places no Wars fans have ever been. Especially during the epic space battle at
the beginning of the film, when the camera effortlessly moved alongside the two
Jedi starfighters piloted by Obi-Wan and Anakin into the mêlée of chaos. That’s
right, a space battle mêlée of chaos!!!
There where a lot of memorable scenes in this movie.
When Yoda reeled back, after sensing a disturbance in the force that the Jedi
where being killed, brought tears to my eyes. The whole montage of the Clone
Troopers turning on and killing the Jedi, Anakin’s utterly dark rampage in the
Jedi Temple (which IMPLIED that Anakin, now Lord Darth Vader, slaughtered all of
the Younglings, little Jedi in training) and subsequent slaughter of the
Separatist leaders in their secret burrow on the volcano-world of Mustafar were
bone-chilling and surprisingly easy and fun to watch. The Dark Side of the Force
is indeed powerful, and it was pleasant to see some of the full capabilities of
those sinister ones who wield the Dark powers. I’ve always wanted to see those
evil Sith in action.
The Wookies were a nice touch, although I do not see why they were in the movie
at all except to give Yoda something to do besides being slaughtered with all
the other Jedi out on the battlefields. Oh and Chewie.
I cannot hum complete praise for this movie. There where several aspects of the
film that bothered me or made me laugh-out-loud because of the poor dialogue and
sometimes meager acting. It’s to be expected. No movie is “perfect.” I remember
bellowing out the laughter during Attack of the Clones, when Anakin was having a
“dream,” a vision really, of his mother’s death. He writhed around in bed,
moaning, speaking “mother” and murmuring. It was downright appalling. It
conjured up images I did not want to confront in a Star Wars movie. Anyways, I
went off on a tangent.
Padmé (Natalie Portman), Luke and Leia’s mother, was reduced from a Queen in
Episode I to a Senator warrior in Episode II to a poor-dialogue delivering
pregnant Haus Frau in Episode III. I was disappointed with Portman’s character
in this movie. But she’s a cutie. Even her corpse looked hot, clutching the
jappor snippet Anakin had given her when he was a little boy. Her pregnant belly
also changed in size from scene to scene.
I give props to Hayden Christensen whose performance as Anakin Skywalker was a
lot better than in Attack of the Clones. I think he did a better acting job than
Portman. Ian McDiarmid was unbelievable as the slimy Emperor-to-be Supreme
Chancellor Palpatine. Both he and Ewan McGregor as Obi-Wan Kenobi shine in this
movie.
Upon learning of Padmé’s death, I could have done without Darth Vader’s cheesy,
clichéd, fists raised into the air, elevated crane-shot camera pulling up and
away scream of “Noooooooooooooooooo!”
The small nitpicking means nothing. The film still was awesome. I was genuinely
sad at the end.
The movie’s final image: Ben Kenobi wanders off into the desert to live in
exile, Owen and Beru Lars hold baby Luke Skywalker outside the Lars Homestead on
Tatooine. The new family stares out at the familiar image of the Tatooine’s twin
setting suns. It was a fitting end to this new trilogy.
I am satisfied. The final installment was very good. I could go on and on about
it, but ultimately it is for each fan to decide if he or she will like it. All I
know is that I cannot wait to add this to my Star Wars movie collection. The
Force is still with us. With us all.
Posted by RAD at 01:09 PM | Comments (5)
May 19, 2005
ROTS glory
It's ROTS DAY. Right click and 'Save Target As' to see a short movie thingie.
*UPDATE* ADDED 2 MORE FROLIC MOVIES! HERE AND HERE

GRILL MASTERS BONUS IMAGE

Posted by RAD at 10:32 AM | Comments (2)
May 18, 2005
Mommie Dearest is excited

Mommie Dearest hails a taxi
Mommie Dearest is even more excited about the Wars than I. She sent me this
email:
From: Mom
To: Russ
Date: May 18, 2005 2:57 PM
Subject: RE: s o o n !
STAR WARS!! Jen said they are camping out already!
I am driving everyone crazy here [at work].
Hummm hummm humm dee humm
Anakin lives!
Love, Ma
--
People are already camping out at the Continental Theatre. My sister dropped by
and took this picture of the tents. HUZZAH!

Star Wars Fans Camp at the Continental

Posted by RAD at 03:11 PM | Comments (5)
search phrases!
I love it. I have been going over my website statistics. Here is a brief list of
some search phrases that bring people to my website. Some are odd, but most of
them are awesome. I love it. The more disturbing and obscure the references
‘round here the better. This is just a sample of the hundreds of phrases:
a full body shot picture of a mexican mechanic
what is weenis
wrestling slinglet
the power of lard.jpg
how many calories in an ounce of jagermeister
tunguska blast
word for no neck
hoarders help Denver
sex scat
54th massachusetts oh my lord
mashed yams pictures
nylon muu muu
essays on dumpster babies
grimace
pink toenails
Posted by RAD at 01:35 PM | Comments (1)
Denver – City Beautiful

along Speer Blvd.
Denver is a wonderfully beautiful city. While traveling along Speer Boulevard, I
snapped these quick pictures. The crazy, angular building is the Colorado
Convention Center at 700 14th Street and the other building with the creepy
white, spindly, dancing figures is the Denver Center for the Performing Arts at
1245 Champa Street.
Posted by RAD at 09:30 AM | Comments (1)
Underoos are not child porn
Oh yes I sported Underoos when I was a child. So did my younger brother. Look at
this picture:

Russ and J. Charles Champion Underoos at a Mountain Lake
I had Transformer Underoos, Master Yoda Underoos, Darth Vader Underoos, Dukes of
Hazzard Underoos, ET: The Extraterrestrial Underoos, Good Times Underoos and the
very rare Police Squad! Detective Frank “Leslie Nielsen” Drebin Underoos. There
were Underoos abound in the Dale household. The Dale Law of Hand Me Downs also
applied to Underoos. I would wear Jar Jar Binks Underoos. Would you wear
Underoos? Did you wear Underoos?
Posted by RAD at 08:49 AM | Comments (5)
May 17, 2005
feral
A mangy, city-living feral fox likes to frequent my backyard. I have seen it
many occasions and managed to snap a few pictures while it darted into the wild
(aka the back alleyway). I wonder if the feral fox thrives on eating feral
children or feral rabbits?
The word of the day is feral
feral
[adj.] Existing in a wild or untamed state.
Use feral in a sentence. Here are my contributions:
1.) I was forced to discipline the feral, unruly child’s gob by taking away his
bread pudding dessert privileges.
2.) The thought of Klingon love makes me feral.
3.) Grandma, who becomes feral without her chocolate-covered cherries, hoards
the boxed candies all to herself.
4.) I’m cuckoo for feral.
Posted by RAD at 09:25 AM | Comments (5)
ROTS TICKET
I made that RAD SITH graphic and by golly I am going to use it!

My ROTS ticket
I am hearing stories of people being made fun of because of liking the Star
Wars. It must be my generation. Although I am a fan, I am not a super fan but
have seen the original trilogy approximately 360 times, averaging once a month
since I was wee. Does that make me an Über geek? Naw. I have the original
trilogy committed to memory, including dialogue, music cues and even screams and
whimpers. That’s Über geek. “No star system will dare oppose the Emperor now!”
I do not plan on wearing any sort of costume for the premiere of Star Wars
Episode III Revenge of the Sith. I will destroy all Ewoks that cross my path.
Posted by RAD at 07:23 AM | Comments (3)
May 16, 2005
The Star Wars Dream
I declare this week “Star Wars Appreciation Week.”
I was raised with the Star Wars in my life. In 1977, I first saw Star Wars with
my family. I was less than 2 years old and we went to the drive-in. We had to
park in the back, near the bathrooms, because my mother was constantly running
back and forth cleaning up the filth that us twins were secreting. I hardly
remember seeing Star Wars and yet it remains a vivid memory. I sure as hell
remember seeing Empire Strikes Back at the drive-in and of course Return of the
Jedi at the Continental (where we will be seeing Revenge of the Sith – full
circle!)
This upcoming Thursday May 19, 2005, the final Star Wars film will be in
theatres. I am attending with about 25 people. As a youth, while playing with my
Star Wars Hoth figures in the snow, I longed to one day see the Dark Lord of the
Sith in all his evil clutches glory. I, unlike many Star Wars fans of my
generation, liked the first two prequels. I was so ingrained with Star Wars as a
child that I believe that any new Star Wars, regardless of the poor acting, poor
writing, child-leaning gags and goofy characters, was still Star Wars and should
be enjoyed for what it is: the vision of George Lucas. The Lucas has nothing to
prove to the hardcore fans with his final installment. It's his franchise and he
has the task to make it as he wishes. If he screws it up it his fault and his
fault alone. In my opinion, he cannot screw this up. I have read the spoilers
and reviews and besides a few cringing aspects, this movie looks to be
excellent.
I dreamt of the Star Wars yesternight. It was an odd dream, a movie actually, my
own version of Episode III with Wars characters (also smatterings of Back to the
Future and Buckaroo Banzai and LOTR and Dune lore). My dream also had a
disturbing foamy scum theme. I know that this will be a long-winded piece of
writing. No matter. The real challenge is if one actually takes the time to read
it. It seems that the longer my writings are, the less people tend to read them.
No matter. I write for myself and myself alone. And my fans. And my stalkers.
And those weird people. And … … …
The “movie” started immediately. Teeny-bopper Anakin Skywalker was angrily
skipping stones upon a scum-covered pond. Myself and my band of brothers were
camping across the way, watching the longhaired boy use his force powers to do
menial tasks such as building a fire and pitching a tent. I do not know why we
were camping at the filthy pond, or who was with me.
My dream was not rated PG-13. It wasn’t even rated R. My dream was NC-17. I saw
Padmé, former Queen Amidala, Luke and Leia’s mother. She presented her breasts
to my traveling party of vagabonds like she was a bead-wearing drunk gone wild
on Bourbon Street during Mardi Gras. Her breasts had a distinct layer of chalky
scum upon them. It was unsettling. Especially since she kept puking up creamed
corn in a most unpleasant manner. She still looked good, despite her freakish
antics.
Suddenly I heard a disturbing cackle and looked to the parking lot of the Lone
Pine Mall to see a child, who turned out to be Lando Calrissian, riding on a
pink hoverboard. He wore a blue ornate cloth cape, just like he did when he was
all grown up in Empire Strikes Back. He carried the Banzai Institute’s
Oscillation Overthruster, Doctor Emmett L. Brown’s Flux Capacitor and a bucket
of The General's Fried Chicken in his fanny pack.
Festering in the corner of a building was a tuxedo-clad, scummy Peter Cushing as
Grand Moff Tarkin, his sunkenly gaunt face shrouded in deepest shadows. He was
conducting some sort of evil symphony with a rainbow lightsaber. The orchestra
was filled with futuristic instruments accompanied by the breathing sounds of
the Lord Vader, a children’s choir chanting “Ya ya ya. Ya ya ya. Ya ya ya ya ya”
and monkey sounds. Admiral Ackbar was making the monkey sounds. Porkins and
Wedge were there. Even Brad “Piter De Vries” Douriff licking his red-stained
lips while drinking the juice of safu and spouting an angry monologue about
Kanly, or vendetta, was there.
Finally, at the end of my Star Wars dream, all of my friends and family were
dancing and clapping in jubilee around a huge bonfire with monkey sounds and
scum in the background.
Before mounting our horses, I looked to the east and saw ghostly apparitions;
visions and memories of old times smiling back at me. A kick of our heels and we
rode for Minas Tirith.
It is truly a spectacular time to be alive. The final Star Wars film will be in
theatres shortly, and I will get to experience it with family and friends, true
fans of the series.
Posted by RAD at 12:38 PM | Comments (3)
May 15, 2005
Hole Wars

Posted by RAD at 12:56 AM | Comments (0)
May 14, 2005
ROTS
May 19, 2005. Soon.

Title: Darth's Area

Posted by RAD at 11:13 AM | Comments (3)
May 12, 2005
see ya in the past
Ooom poppa chikamaga wana sing gow
Do lomma sinnigama mana ching jow
Inimana choogamaga wana sing gee
Finimana foonimana one is now free
Then the horns kicked in and my shoes started to squeak. Ponderous man, really
ponderous.

Posted by RAD at 07:54 PM | Comments (0)
Monologue – The Man in the White Suit
FREE MONOLOGUE! For those men searching for a pleasant monologue to perform for
auditions or for fun, try memorizing and performing this gem I wrote called “The
Man in the White Suit.” Feel free to use it at will, but if you do, I’d at least
like an EMAIL stating you are using it. Danke.
Monologue -- The Man in the White Suit
By Russell Dale 05-12-05
MAN:
I don’t go dancin’ no more. Why not? I canna believe you asked me “why not?”
Haven’t you ever heard the story of the man in the white suit? Damn foo, I
witnessed that most tragic horror-show first hand. 15 years ago it was.
I was hangin’ out at the bar in my ‘hood, y’know, my regular haunt the 5-0
Hotel. My man wild Jesse Barnet and his ho Tina was there with me. We was just
chillin’ and drinkin’. I was on the prowl for sometha from the ladies.
We all knows Jesse’s a crazy motha fucka. That man don’t give flyin’ fuck ‘bout
nothin’.
The DJ was spinnin’ that booty shake and I went out to da dance floor. You best
believe I’s can dance. I tell it true. I seen Laquita Carnes and she looked
good. Me and Laquita was dancin’, tearin’ up dat dance floor, she was all up and
rubbin’ on me! Hot damn she’s one fine mammie. And she lives 2 doors down.
Jesse and Tina made their way onto da dance floor too. As me an Laquita was
bustin’ that groove, I sees wily Terrance Tabb strut into the Five-Oh like
Barney Bad Ass wearin’ the finest white suit I evah seen. The lanky brotha
looked smooth, his monstrous ‘fro concealed by a feathered black lid just off
his skull, all tilted, announcin’ that he be ready to score him some trim. Those
were the days!
‘Round me, hell, I was drawin’ a trim crowd of my own due to my graceful
movement ass swag shake. That boy Terrance sauntered up to Jesse’s ho Tina and
started to get that freak on. Jesse gave the foo a nasty look but Terrance kept
at it. Jesse pushed Terrance back and then suddenly Terrance pulled out a Glock
and emptied the clip in Jesse’s direction. The crowd scrambled. Of course, there
was nothin’ but blanks in that gun. It dinna matter coz it still startled us
all. Jesse most of all.
I’ve never seen Jesse so scared. He was reelin’ back, fallin’ over, lookin’ a
foo and screamin’ like a baby. I bet he done shit his pants. It was pathetic
seeing toughie wild Jesse in such a state.
Terrance was laughin’ and laughin at his little prank, wavin’ the fakie gun
‘round, acceptin’ praise from everyone else in the bar, his white suit
glimmerin’ in the disco lights.
Once Jesse wiped his tears, he was hopin’ mad. I would be too had I been made a
foo in my neighborhood bar, in front of a whole lotta prospective trim trolley.
Do you knows what Jesse did? That crazy mofo hopped up, pulled a real gun from
his britches, aimed it at that boy Terrance and blew the motherfucker’s ass
away. It was shocking. He emptied the clip and then dry-clicked it three or four
more times!
I hit the deck with Laquita and my man Deltha and his brother Roge tackled Jesse
and held him until Johnny Law come. Terrance was dead and his fine white suit
was drenched in blood. I’ll never forget that image. That image of the bloody
white suit is seared into my mind.
Jesse got sent to jail for life for killin’ Terrance Tabb and I done nevah gone
dancin’ again.
SCENE
Posted by RAD at 12:56 PM | Comments (0)
May 11, 2005
B-29 All Veterans Memorial

B-29 All Veterans Memorial in Pratt Kansas
Posted by RAD at 08:58 AM | Comments (0)
May 10, 2005
Comet Light 4
Off and on, between my various other writing projects, I revisit a short story
tentatively titled Comet Light. It’s a dark comedy, a tale of a famous comedian
who makes a comedy film about a fictional, wacky religious cult in Utah. The
film becomes a huge success and a real life cult believes him to be the truest
evil sinner and smut master. They crusade to bring him down before they venture
off on their Comet Starship for a carefree life among the stars. The main
character is comedian Todd Coulter. These writings are all about the creative
use of language. I laugh writing them. Who would have thought that hate would be
so hilarious?
Dear Satan’s Cubicle aka Todd Colter:
Mine Mary Mingles insisted that I compose this communication of faith and send
it through the snail mail to your bastard offices. We, the Godly people over at
FAFF, Fighting Against the Fiendish Fiends, have arisen again to spill our
entrails in the name of Comet Light. We have pledged for a long, long while to
bring you and all whom you entertain downhill. This letter was crafted to
belittle you. I shake my fists at the stars upon writing it, cackling in my most
terrifying of ways, spitting up phlegm and juices from the depths of my essence.
I demean you Mr. Colter. I put down you and all of your fans.
Due to recent lack of funding, our goals of your demise were dreadfully set
back. Do you leap with the joy at this news? Too bad. We’re back and more
powerfully strong in our fashionly fashions than ever before! We recently
received a huge figure of cash monies from a private Comet Worshiper to continue
the vision of dragging you downward into the scorching beams of Comet Hellfire
Truths. I can feel you tremor upon this fortunate news. Shudder! SHUDDER!
I shall lay down for you our agenda so we may be clear on what your future
holds. You laugh at our organization. We are truly far more than exquisitely
dressed, successfully fanatical church-going men and women. We are more than
mere worshipers of our honored Comet Lord. We see things. We know all. We see
things. Our glimpses see all things. I angrily stutter out these truths.
Our rituals and Comet ways will not be mocked Mr. Coulter, like that trash in
your movies. After consulting our devout warfare sticks and three-dimensional
star graphs, we now know with mighty conviction that our extraterrestrial
religion, the Church of the Divine Comet, spits bile and repugnance in your
wide-reaching direction. We view your “art” as a hideous display of smirks gone
awry. Your talent would much better be used in service of our valuable worship.
It won’t be long now before we take departure upon that brilliance of a Comet
Starship, traveling into the wondrous Universe only Hubble telescope can image.
We shall depart this doomed planet and leave it for you and your sinner ilk to
inhabit until the end times. The populaces of this Earth are outlaws in the eyes
of our Comet Lord. Amen. Only those who bow on bended knee to his beauty hideous
and foreign features will find the true salvation.
I fear not. I am all smiles, for I will be a Comet Lord soon enough, when I kick
off Manolo Blahnik’s and dock with the shimmering, singular Comet Starship. Up,
up into the heavens shall I soar, away from the muck of the human race. I
ascend! I will truly soar! Will you be soaring on highest heights? No!
Rethink your transgressions now Todd Coulter and join us. If you take the
appropriate steps now, Comet Light everlasting shall be your prize. Comet Light,
Comet Flight!
If you refuse to join our ranks, and follow the path you currently take, you
will be rebuked. We will lay you and your career to ruin, slathering all hope
for a serene life with the stunting lard-grease of obliteration. We shall soil
your pitiful soul and soil your shabby clothes with our reality. We have stated
before in the past that if people wish it, a painful and hurtful life await them
who do not pray upon our splendid Comet Alter.
The stars of freedom and Comet Wisdom illuminate our souls. We will do whatever
it takes to capture it and preach truth to those who listen. Recruitment is up
for our extravagant creed. Those with a penchant for truth and fashion follow
the Comet Wisdom. Many motivational speeches have been made; free facials, skirt
seamstress hemming adjustments and multimedia Comet Light slideshows have
engaged our new worshipers. They now walk hand-in-hand with the glory Comet
Lord! They look great, feel better about themselves and desire the hitch a ride
upon the Comet Starship sooner rather than later. You could only wish to be so
lucky Mr. Coulter.
We will not waver from our mission. I smack jack your grimace. Feel the pain.
With Utmost Contempt,
Darla Piper, Provo Utah
--
Other side-splitting FAFF letters:
Comet Light 1
Comet Light 2
Comet Light 3
Posted by RAD at 12:26 PM | Comments (0)
Firefly
“Take me out to the black.
Tell 'em I ain't comin' back.
Burn the land and boil the sea.
You can't take the sky from me.”
I am now a complete “Firefly” geek. Thanks a lot Carrie. It’s your entire fault.
Thanks also to series creator Joss Whedon. I like saying his name: Joss Whedon.
I’m not a big fan of Joss Whedon’s other televisiony fare (or television at all)
like “Buffy: The Vampire Slayer” and “Angel,” but “Firefly” is completely
different.
The show is set 500 years in the future and is a mad jumble of science fiction,
rip roaring old west with high tech and low tech amenities and all cultures/time
periods mixed into one kooky universe that is inhabited by humans and
flesh-eating Reavers. It’s almost like the anime series Cowboy Bebop brought to
life. The special FX are decent for a television show, providing unique visuals.
The writing is grand, the sets and on-location footage beautiful and the acting
is excellent.
“Firefly” was canceled in its first season, leaving several episodes unaired.
One can purchase the entire series on DVD. It’s a shame that good television is
canceled before it gets a chance to catch on while all the other television crap
seems to receive viewers in droves. Why on Earth would someone rather watch “The
Real Gilligan’s Island” or “American Idol” or “Desperate Housewives” or
“Survivor: Palau?” Such shows make me cringe with horror. People keep coming
back for less than mediocre television. Sickening. What is wrong with the
American viewers?! They would rather watch “Survivor: Palau” than innovative
“Arrested Development!” PAGH! Stupes.
The ensemble cast of “Firefly” works really well together. There is a kick-ass
pilot, his wife the “warrior woman,” Captain Mal, a religious Shepard, a
shuttle-renting whore, a genius young doctor and his freakish more genius of a
powerful sister, a mercenary and an engineer.
My favorite character is the mercenary, the Hero of Canton named Jayne Cobb
played by Adam “D.C. Cab” Baldwin. Jayne is an occasionally mutinous crewmember
with a love for weapons, especially a colossal gun named Vera. Jayne is
worshiped by the poor people in the town of Canton (perhaps one of the best
episodes of the series “Jaynestown”) The people even wrote him a folk song: “He
robbed from the rich and he gave to the poor/Stood up to the Man and he gave him
what for/Our love for him now ain't hard to explain/The Hero of Canton, the man
they call Jayne.”
Another fine and innocent character is quirky engineer Kaylee Frye, played by
hottie Jewel Staite, who hates it when anyone belittles the ship, Serenity.
Serenity is a Firefly Midbook Transport with standard radion-accelerator core,
class code 03-K64.

Firefly ship Serenity
Too bad the show was cancelled. All hope is not lost however, a major motion
picture, “Serenity” is slated for release on September 30, 2005. Rent or buy
“Firefly” today and support it by seeing the film. Do it!
Posted by RAD at 08:59 AM | Comments (5)
May 09, 2005
I know I’m funny
I love leaving long-winded messages on answering machines in ethnicy, disturbed
and rambling accents.
A friend of mine from Tennessee tells a truly awesome and remarkable story about
a sammich order I left on her answering machine:
“The message you left on our answering machine ordering a Reuben sandwich was
great! ‘Now, I want that rye bread practically scorched’ and ‘I want only the
best corned beef, the fat will have to be picked out of it’ cracked me the fark
up!
My daughter heard it first and saved it for me. I heard it last night after work
and kept it on there. My grandmother came in this morning while I was sleeping
and played it, and when I got up, she said, ‘Lord have mercy, did you hear that
old woman giving that sandwich order on our answering machine? And boy, did she
ever give an order!’ I cracked up and didn't bother to tell her the truth.
LMAO!!! You are too funny, Russell Dale!”
Posted by RAD at 02:43 PM | Comments (0)
Lucas Watch
Stand aside all God-loving creatures of the planet earth. The folks at Lucas
Watch have it out for George Lucas, the creator of the beloved Star Wars films.
The Lucas, in their dementedly religious eyes, is evil incarnate.
This is the most hilarious article I have read in a long, long time. I kick
myself for not having written it. Obviously this is not real, but it is
uproarious nonetheless.

Lucas Watch Statement of Faith:
The Bible is very clear, there is only ONE way to get to heaven and that is
through the son, Jesus Christ. Not through some kind of silly, "Force" that
accepts all people irregardless. The True God of the Bible is VERY picky when it
comes to choosing who will spend eternity with him, and if you are not a
born-again, Bible believing Christian, you are flat out of luck. You can watch
as many Star Wars movies as you want to, but you will never find any answers.
The answers you are looking for are in the Holy Bible alone!
Posted by RAD at 01:55 PM | Comments (0)
May 05, 2005
BEST OF RADHOLE PART 1
It’s time now for the loyal radhole visitors to revisit some of my favoritest
writings:
MY OLDER BROTHER BEAT ME
MAKE A DEX CHECK SHROUDED GAMER
DISTURBING – A WAY OF LIFE
THE BREAKFAST ORDER
FILTHY: THE RACCOON
FALLING DOWN
I MOCK THE SCA
THE EYE PATCH
VALENTINE’S DAY HORROR
ROLLER-SKATING SUCKS
STRIKE 7!
THE NO-NECK GOONS HATE ME
I HATED YOUTH SPORTS
Posted by RAD at 11:20 AM | Comments (0)
global village
The internet is filled with a gaggle of psychopaths, shut-ins, crazies, bitches,
their snaggle-toothed poopie dogs, grossly obese and bed ridden computer
hoarders, pimps, cows, Le-mentally-imbalanced, masqueraders, compu-RPGers,
extreme bloggers, deviants, dirties, pornsquatches, babalunas, freakies,
ninnies, nancies, nincompoops, festering pie-holes, Fredo’s, wulongs, scrags,
skinks, scags, loonies, philes, non-prim-looking stargazers, pink toenail
fetishists, jackasses, assholes, religious fanatics, insurgents, trekkers,
tranks, lobos and zip-heads. A majority of them find themselves coming into
contact with me because my charismatic wit and gravity pull them into my orbit.
I am included in this list, but my title isn’t a bizarre adjective. It is Russ
Dale, the one and only. Or my sovereign Lord.
I am constantly contacted by the weirdest of people. They seem nice at first
before they goes psychos and show off their unstableness and manipulative ways.
It’s really quite odd yet disturbingly refreshing that they show me their freak
flags held on high. I am honored to be included in their unsettling bounty.
There are also the cool people in the online realm. Fortunately for me, I know
more coolie people than the above-mentioned participants in the “freak show of
cyberspace jamboree.”

I think this is a decent picture of myself.
Posted by RAD at 08:54 AM | Comments (1)
May 04, 2005
SATELLITE
normsquatch has eagle eyes. He spotted something in the sky this evening. It was
a bright light steadily moving. It wasn’t no plane. It wasn’t no dim satellite.
This thing was bright, almost as dazzling as the brightest star.
We speculated it was the International Space Station Alpha because with the
naked eye one can see it streaking across the sky at an orbital velocity of
nearly 18,000 miles per hour. MELT, squatch and I darted across the street to
watch it pass overhead. After it was gone I looked at my YES watch. It was 09:30
pm.
I returned home and pulled up some real-time space station data. Sure enough,
ISS Alpha was supposed to be visible in the Denver sky at precisely the time we
saw it. I’ve tried to see the space station many times before and it proved
elusive, missed by mere seconds or obscured by clouds.

Well tonight was the night. For 2 minutes, it was a beautiful sight to behold.
Posted by RAD at 11:06 PM | Comments (1)
Death
Death is not a pleasant topic. I have a funeral to go to today and then one in
Kansas, for a relative, on Friday. I am leaving for Pratt Kansas tomorrow
afternoon and return to the Colorado sometime on Sunday evening.
I am bringing my camera and laptop along (so I can plug-in from my hotel room
coz I am a nerd). I’ll get to visit the B-29 All Veterans Memorial. I am
bringing my police scanner and related area scanning frequencies.
I hope to get some storm chasing in. That would be sweet. I long to chase a
tornado or three. F5 baby! F5 on the Fujita Scale! Peak tornado activity in
Kansas generally occurs in the months of April, May and June. That's where I'll
be, in twister-prone "Tornado Alley."
Posted by RAD at 09:32 AM | Comments (1)
May 03, 2005
runaway bride
A word of advice: If one thinks about getting married, one better make sure it
is the right decision. Because once you are married, theoretically it should be
forever. If there is any dread and doubt about the upcoming marriage on the
mind, or feelings for a past lover or what not, it’s best to get it out in the
open. Without such forthcoming communication the marriage is destined to be a
failure. Think long and hard before getting married. Think with more than your
heart. Think with your brain. I say this to all people who are getting married
within the next year. I know more than one couple getting ready to tie the knot.
Think. Don’t feel.
The “runaway bride,” Jennifer Wilbanks, got cold feet, turned tail and ran
without leaving word with anyone. There are plenty of options besides traveling
the filthy bus to get away. Obviously she has some sort of mental issues.
Please people; up front, state your fears of commitment, marriage and other odd
issues up to and including “cold feet.” Save your friends and family a whole
gaggle of pain and worry, especially if you secretly shuffle off to Buffalo and
then out of fear concoct a creepy story about being jumped and abducted instead
of telling the truth from the beginning.
Cancel the wedding. Use the money saved to buy a ticket to Las Vegas. Put a
hundred dollars on black. Wallow in free drinks. Sell your dress or Tux on eBay.
Don’t run away.
Posted by RAD at 02:24 PM | Comments (7)
May 01, 2005
fun

Right Click and "Save Target As" 10 MB. Quicktime required.

Right Click and "Save Target As" 10 MB. Quicktime required.
Posted by RAD at 05:57 PM | Comments (3)