Dollar Menu Racism

Or: They May Take Our Lives, But They Canna Take Our Fish Sandwich!

Check out my pimpin' McFro, and tell me I ain't packin' a giant penny whistle!

There seems to be a preponderance, among non-whites, of confusion as to how prefixes in names work vis-a-vis Irish vs. Scottish. Specifically in the arena of McDonald’s. It is not a “MacDouble,” as the black woman ahead of me in line today called it, but a “McDouble,” and so much is clearly laid out on their menu. I love the show “30 Rock,” but when Salma Hayek made such a big deal out of her favorite desert being the MacFlurry, I rankled just the slightest bit. She’s lucky she’s so hot.

I don’t know if you know you’re doing it, but there is a very specific difference involved here. Ronald McDonald is Irish, man. The Irish are serving you the shitty, heat lamped foods. Think of it this way: when you are Puerto Rican and somebody cavalierly calls you Mexican, you get rather pissed off, no? And rightly so! I do not presume to equate fast food ordering with the vast cultural differences of our differing minorities, but some consideration could be employed.

I am sure the Scottish have kept as far from the fast food multiverse as possible, and would not want their proud surname prefixes dragged through the mud in such a manner. The Irish, as we all know, are far less discriminating, but when they come out with the “Mac Haggis,” you’ll know, because, I promise, they will furnish you with the “a” in the very spelling of menu item.

PS. Check out the chick on the left in the alarmingly stunning white shorts. Specifically her legs. When she’s not busy being a massive tease, is she an American Gladiator or something? Where did she get those bruises? It’s like some old lady took a cane to her for every kitten she indirectly killed that week. She’s making Jesus and my penis cry.

The Apocalypse Will Be Yummy… For Some

I am going to murder you for sustenance, K?

A recent foxnews.com article rather cavalierly states that:

“A Maryland company under contract to the Pentagon is working on a steam-powered robot that would fuel itself by gobbling up whatever organic material it can find — grass, wood, old furniture, even dead bodies.”

I wish I could write purty…

Some days you just can't get rid of a (flaming) bomb

Remember, someone will always be able to articulate your points better than you. In this case, the greatest blogger int he world at wwtdd.com (who is entirely unaware of my existance as of yet) makes my earlier points about Perez Hilton come alive with some greater degree of dignity and intelligence than I could have. Seriously, go read his play-by-play of Perez’s latest statement. I agree with every single point.   http://tinyurl.com/nrwgx4

 

Hazard Comes to Sunny Vegas

I'm comin' Bo!

Let’s throw tons of credit at authors Mick Axelrod and John Wesley Harding for throwing helpful suggestions at me while I wrote this.

When one witnesses an event that can be described as out of the ordinary, one can usually deduce the series of events that led these people to arrive at the given situation. This is a law for which Las Vegas often seems like a black hole. With cultures from around the globe centralized in a booze addled, no-rules party town, one can see a strange situation every day, if one looks hard enough. And the continually entertaining and baffling thing is, you cannot always figure out what happened. How can one be certain one knows their environment enough when there are things happening in the background that one is not only not aware of, but incapable of comprehending? Case in point: a traffic event my coworkers and I witnessed on our way to lunch this afternoon. You will want to sit down for this.

Man-Handling, Lesson I: Punching In Its Various Forms

This will be the first attempt I make at a serial column. Whenever a man in the news handles something in a distinctly non-manly fashion, I will be on it. This will be a quick post, as I have not yet posted a banner, avatars, or any pictures. Just want to stock this thing with some content before I go super-live.

Can we talk, for just a moment, about these high profile assault cases? It seems to me that each is being handled all wrong, and not by the system, that for once is a victim (more on that later). No, each of these cases stems from the source, from one man not living up to the standards of his masculine forebears.

Le Post Premiere

Welcome to the official blog of the men and women of The Gentleman’s Club. While the site undergoes maintenance to pretty itself up, let’s talk about our purpose here. The Gentleman’s Club was founded over a game of billiards in 2003, at Hofstra University in New York. The idea was simple: The sophisicated men (literally all geniuses) of The Hofstra Gentleman’s Club would indulge in their various forms of collegiate entertainment, both cerebral and recreational, on the university’s dime. It took several grueling semesters, filled with heartache and challenges, to bring the idea to fruition. Officers were appointed, charters were drawn up, and the most curious thing happened: the idea spread. To other area colleges, to like minded older people, little sisters… Freemasons, for godsakes. Now that the founding members are long graduated from that dubious institution of learning, The Gentleman’s Club blog will allow their voices to continue to flourish.

Patience is the name of the game, ladies and gents. When this bitch is up and running, you will be checking for updates daily.