PRS operatives have scored another big one. They managed to gain access to Senator Ted Kennedy’s answering machine, which is located in the residence he occupies while in Washington doing the bidding of the citizens of Massachusetts.

Here is a sample of what we found:

BEEEEEP
“Senator Kennedy, this is Sheriff Bodine Claxon down here in Sticksville, Georgia. Remember that speeding ticket you got here a while back? You never showed up for your court appearance, and the $500 check you sent here to pay the fine bounced like one of them brand new pink sponge balls. Judge Belford, my brother-in-law, was sorely pissed and he issued a bench warrant for your arrest. Just wanted to let you know that if you happen to be traveling in Georgia, you better pack a toothbrush and a jar of Vaseline, because, like Judge Belford said to me the other night at the Lodge, ‘Sticksville ain’t Edgartown.’ Have a nice day.”
click

BEEEEEP
“This is Blaze. You wanted me to do what? You a damned pig! I jus’ wanted to let you know that I don’t play that bathroom shit, and you can take yo money and shove it way up yo big, fat white ass. You a fat-assed pig! Damn!”
click

BEEEEEP
“Senator Ken…. Ooops, I mean, ‘T-435’, this is Madam Ruthie of the Eros Emporium. I know that the last time you were here you said that on your next visit you wanted to give Blaze a try, and that you had some ‘special activities’ in mind. I’m sorry but Blaze will not be available that evening. However, I do have a wonderful new girl who I am certain can accommodate your specific wishes. She calls herself Hillary. She told me that she took that name, because, like the real Hillary, she will do anything. I think you will be very pleased.”
click

BEEEEEP
“Good evening. This is Sam from Stedman’s Medical and Surgical Supplies. We received your order for the adult diapers, but I’m afraid that no one makes an adult diaper to fit a 65-inch waist. If you drop by the store, someone on the staff can show you how to tape two XXXL diapers together, and that may work. I’m not sure, but it’s worth a try. If that doesn’t do the trick, you may have to consider using a twin-size bed sheet, in which case you’ll need to order the extra large pins.”
click

BEEEEEP
“Yo, asshole. This is Alphonse Alito. I just got outta Lewisburg. You worked my cousin Sam over pretty good, you punk-ass piece of shit. Just remember, payback is a bitch. Oh, and Sam doesn’t know about this call, and you would be wise – very wise – not to mention it to him. That could cost you the other knee. Know what I’m sayin’ asshole?”
click

I suspect that New Jersey Bloggers will have a good deal to say about this stupid bill that was sponsored by Republican Assemblyman Peter Biondi of Somerset County, New Jersey.

The bill, among other things, would require an “operator of an interactive computer service [a blogger] ” to “establish, maintain and enforce a policy to require any information content provider [a commenter] who posts written messages [comments] on a public forum website [a blog] either to be identified by a legal name and address, or to register a legal name [i.e. the commenter’s name and, presumably, a mailing address]”

The statute further requires that bloggers “establish and maintain reasonable procedures to enable any person to request and obtain disclosure of the legal name and address of an information content provider who posts false or defamatory information about the person on a public forum website”. This would require bloggers to see that ANYONE who feels that he or she was defamed in a comment to be able to obtain from the blogger the name and address of the commenter who made what that person believes to have been a defamatory statement. All they have to do is ask.

Finally, a blogger who fails to establish and maintain such procedures (i.e. procedures for maintaining the names and addresses of all commenters) can be sued to for compensatory and punitive damages (big bucks) by anyone who is damaged by a defamatory remark posted by a commenter.

Anyone who has even a passing familiarity with the Internet and the blogosphere realizes what a ridiculous bill this is. More subtle, but still quite clear, are the potential First Amendment issues lurking in this stupid bill, which would: (a) hold bloggers responsible for failing to require each commenter to provide a “legal name and legal address” if one such commenter makes a comment that turns out to be defamatory, and (b) discourage legitimate commenters (i.e. those not intending to defame anyone) from leaving comments.

Notably, but not surprisingly, the bill does not address the numerous reasons why many, if not all, legitimate commenters would reasonably be hesitant to toss his or her name and address into cyberspace. (Yo, Assamblyman … Identity Theft? Have you heard about it? It’s in all the papers.)

New Jersey is going to Hell in a hand basket, and we have an Assemblyman writing a bill dealing with the Internet, when, considering the ham-handedness of this bill, he should consider writing buggy whip legislation.

This bill is going nowhere.

The Jersey Side and The Wrightwing have more.

Thanks to Committees of Correspondence for the Heads Up.

My buddy Dax is in the process of moving, and his computer is one of the many things in one of many unpacked boxes. I managed to score a set of keys to his place, so I’ll be spewing forth from time to time over at The Dax Files.

Unlike Eric, Velociman, Elisson and Yabu who are invited guests, I snuck in. I figure I’m cool, because even though Dax is a big fella who looks like he could do some serious damage to an intrude, I don’t think he’ll beat hell out of an old guy. I hope not, anyway.

Besides, I can always sue his ass.

I did not vote for Governor Corzine, and I’m certainly not a fan. However, he is absolutely right on this issue.

Sgt. Rickey Jones, tweity-one years old, was killed on February 22nd by an IED in Iraq. Since that time, his family has been subjected to phone callers saying things such as, “I’m glad your son is dead.” In addition, the family’s home has been vandalized. There was also some concern that protesters (a group of lunatics from the Westboro Baptist Church) might show up at Sgt. Rickey’s funeral. Fortunately, that did not happen, probably at least, in part, due to the work of the Patriot Guard Riders and other citizens who turned out to protect the Jones family.

I don’t care what your position on the war is. Tormenting a family that has lost a loved one in the war is just flat out wrong.

Kate (of Katespot) has a friend who is organizing a campaign to encourage people to write letters of support to the aggrieved family. Check out Kate’s site for details.

As of right now, I’m thinking that doing a bit of book reading and then heading over to the Post to spend Sunday with the Usual Suspects sounds like a good idea. I may well return to the keyboard later.

Then again, maybe not.

Even though we have a high-priced, heavy duty colander in the House by the Parkway, I would not think of taking on Velociman on the subject of Colander Blogging, as he, having no respect for his elders, would most assuredly gorilla stomp my ass. I, therefore, choose to broaden the blog category to include kitchen wares, more specifically kitchen knives, and even more specifically Cutco kitchen knives.

Here’s the story

One Saturday night, about twenty-five years ago, we were hanging out at with friends in their kitchen, where my buddy and I were working our way through a couple cases of beer. Their doorbell rang, and our hostess escorted a young fellow into the kitchen. Our friends introduced us and explained that he had dropped by to deliver a Cutco spatula spreader that our friend had previously ordered from him. She explained that the kid was selling Cutco knives to help pay his way through college. He seemed like a nice enough kid, but he was, after all, interrupting some serious bullshitting and beer drinking. I couldn’t wait for him to leave.

However, our hostess insisted on showing us this nifty (albeit pricey) tool that was a spreader and a sharp-ass knife all in one, thinking that I might want to order one from the kid. She demonstrated: “See, you can slice a roll or a bagel with the edge of the spatula, and use it to spread the cream cheese or butter.”

It really was a cool tool, and I envisioned myself using one of those babies to zip through a bagel and then plunge it into a large jar of Skippy. The kid followed on with a description of the craftsmanship that goes into the manufacturing of Cutco knives and explained that they are unconditionally guaranteed for life.

I said, “I’ll take one.” The kid beamed. He never expected to make a sale that Saturday night.

Knowing that we could actually use a good kitchen knife, I washed down the balance of my then-current can of suds and asked, “What else ya got?”

The kid said, “I’ll just run out to my car and get my case. It’ll just take a minute.” I think it took about thirty seconds.

The kid returned to the kitchen to show me various kinds of Cutco knives. There was a bread knife, a butcher’s knife, a large knife with a serrated blade, a French Chef’s knife, several paring knives, a carving fork and a turning fork . While I continued to pop beers, the kid explained the uses for each of the blades. He was eager to sell me one of them.

When he was through with his pitch, he waited for me to choose a knife from the ones he had shown me. I took a long pull on a new beer and asked, “How much for the whole set?”

“You want the whole set?”

“Yeah, what the hell. How much for the whole set?”

He looked at me wide-eyed, and said, “I have to check. I’m new at this, and I’ve never sold a whole set.” He dragged out his book, and told me the price. I cannot remember exactly what the price was, but I believe that it was something like four-hundred-fifty dollars, which twenty-five years ago, at least for me, was a helluva lot more than I had any business spending on knives.

I said, “Sold,” and the kid looked at me as if I were Santa Claus.

I even ended up buying the oak block in which to store them.**

The kid was as happy as a clam. Mrs. Parkway was incredulous, our friends were speechless, and I was happily shitfaced.

Of course, the next morning when I realized that I had spent a couple weeks’ pay on knives, I wanted to kick myself in the ass, but I didn’t have the heart to call the kid and tell him to forget it.

It’s now twenty-five years later, and those knives are still on the kitchen counter. They have cut countless hunks of meat, sliced a truckload of breads and vegetables and they are still in great shape. Several years ago, the handle on the carving fork changed color and broke, and Cutco replaced it, no questions asked. About a half dozen years ago, I sent them all back to Cutco, where the company sharpens them and buffs them all up for free. Hell, the company even reconditioned the oak block for free.

Since then, I have also bought a set of Cutco table knives that will cut any-damned thing and can also serve as a butter knife. My most recent Cutco purchase was a pair of scissors that will also cut any damned thing (and they come apart so you can toss them in the dishwasher).

So, I am eternally grateful that once the beer wore off on that day twenty-five years ago I didn’t call that kid to cancel the sale, because I have gotten way more than my money’s worth from those knives.

And, they are made in the USA. What’s not to like?

** This is the closest example of the set that I bought twenty-five years ago.

Did you ever hear the radio commercial for Ovaltine? It’s the one where a bunch of little kids with grating little singsong voices try to get the annoying little bastard to trade away his “chocolaty rich Ovaltine”.

The annoying little bastard replies, “No way”.

The chorus of little singsong shits offers the annoying little bastard something else in trade.

The annoying little bastard again replies, “No waaaay”.

The chorus of little singsong shits tries eveN a better offer.

The annoying little bastard now replies, “DOUBLE NO WAAAAY”.

I hate that annoying little bastard.

Update: It occured to me that some of you might have thought that the site linked to below is a gag site. It isn’t. It is an agency site, which lists hundreds of people available for speaking engagements. The prices and the people associated with them are real. The smartass comments in italics are mine.[/update]

It seems like anyone who is anyone these days is a speaker for hire. Do you find yourself on the Entertainment Committee of your Moose Lodge or PTA and not knowing what to suggest for the annual dinner dance? Fear not, for your organization can hire all sorts of people to speak on an endless variety of subjects for a rather wide range of fees.

This site lays it all out. One can search by name, topic, and even price range (some speakers such as Al Gore don’t publish a fee range). Here is a sampling of the folks who caught my attention for one reason or another:

$5,000 – $10,000
Eleanor Clift For a twenty percent surcharge, Ms. Clift will do the talk with the stridency and ear shattering volume that has become her trademark on the McLaughlin Group.

$10,000 – $20,000
Anita Hill Having exhausted her fifteen minutes, presumably Ms. Hill will talk about … well …Clarence Thomas, body hair and soda cans

Brandi Chastain, the soccer champion For an additional fee (to be negotiated), Ms. Chastain will rip off her shirt at the conclusion of the talk.

$20,000 – $30,000
Aaron Brown His talk: “It’s Plain to See that I’m Way Smarter than All of You. Just Look at Me, For Chrissake”.

Wolf Blitzer His talk: “What it was Like Growing up with a Name that Sounds Like one of Santa’s Reindeer”.

Arianna Huffington For an additional fee, Ms. Huffington will even dress like Zsa Zsa.

Johnny Bench Special discounts offered for speaking engagements at floating crap games.

$30,000 — $50,000
Andrea Mitchell Her talk: “How Don Imus’s Ass Tastes, and Why It’s OK that I’m Not doing as well on the Rubber Chicken Circuit as my Husband”.

Ann Coulter Ms. Coulter does not mind hecklers, but she requires that no throwable desserts be served after dinner.

Charlie Rose For an additional $3,000, Mr. Rose will wear a pressed suit.

Diane Sawyer Her talk: “The Art of Appearing to be Sincere.”

Hank Aaron There will be a twenty percent surcharge if Mr. Aaron is asked, “How did it feel to break Babe Ruth’s record?”

Jason Alexander Please instruct the audience that Mr. Alexander is not to be referred to as “George Costanza,” nor will he perform any George Costanza bits. Mr. Costanza Alexander is a serious actor and expects to be treated as such.

Sam Donaldson Absolutely no questions about Mr. Donaldson’s hair will be permitted.

Rosalynn Carter Her talk: “Life with Jimah, the Whackadoo — You Think It’s Easy?”.

More than $50,000
Al Franken His talk: “Bill O’Reilly is a Stinking Liar, and I can Kick His Ass.”

Bill O’Reilly His talk: “Al Franken is, and Always was, an Unfunny Asshole, and I can Kick his Ass.” Note: Those organizations with serious money should consider booking Messrs. Franken and O’Reilly on the same night.

Bob Costas His talk: “I May be Dim, but I’ve Seen Katie Couric’s Boobs.”

Dan Rather We regret that Mr. Rather is currently unavailable to do speaking engagements, as we have been informed that he is “hot on the Dick Cheney Hunting Story”, and he promises documents.

Jimmy Carter His talk: “Everything I Ever Needed to Know I Learned from Michael Moore”.

Michael Moore His talk: “How I Taught Jimmy Carter Everything He Needs to Know”.

More than $100,000
Bill Cosby For an additional fee, Mr. Cosby will share Jello Pudding with select audience members, while he talks like an intoxicated child.”

Bill Maher Due to the extraordinary number of people who have expressed an interest in kicking Mr. Maher’s ass, he requires that special accommodations be made for his thirty-person security detail.

Dennis Miller His talk: “Why Bill Maher is a Sissy-Boy Snot who Deserves to be Slapped, and Why I’m Just the Guy to Do It”.

Katie Couric Her talk: “I May Have Let America Look up my Ass, but That Doesn’t Mean that You can Speak with Me”.

More than $150,000
Dr. Phil His talk: “My Story — From a No-Talent Goober to a Gazillionaire — Bullshit Sells”.

Lance Armstrong His talk: Screw You! I Could Too Have Gotten Sheryl Crow Even Without the Bike Thing”.

More than $200,000
The Donald For an additional $100,000, Mr. Trump will say “You’re fired!” For an additional $200,000, Mr. Trump will say “You’re fired” and do that thing with his right hand. A bargain at twice the price.

I have mentioned in the past that one of the indicia of my not having the aptitude for engineering was my general inability to mentally fold those boxes that appear on standardized tests. However, I am not completely without folding skills, as I can fold laundry (except for queen-size, fitted sheets), but this is some serious folding.

Via The Presurfer