Thursday, May 29, 2008

Go do that voodoo that you do so well!

Rest In Peace, Harvey!

Hedley Lamarr: My mind is a raging torrent, flooded with rivulets of thought cascading into a waterfall of creative alternatives.
Taggart: God darnit, Mr. Lamarr, you use your tongue prettier than a twenty dollar whore.

Harvey Herschel Korman, one of the greatest comedic actors of our time--and, a veteran of the United States Navy--passed away today. He was 81.

I am off to watch Blazing Saddles...again. But, I at least wanted to share with you, gentle readers, one of my favourite lines from this outstanding film.

Oh, and thank you, Harvey, for your service to our country; and, for all of the laughs.

Sunday, May 18, 2008

Puzzled? I am.

"Lifeguard Of The Jury Pool Is My Favourite Blawg!"

So said Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, the President of the Islamic Republic of Iran.

Or, at least I think it is Ahmadinejad.

I have noticed an unusually large number of readers in the Islamic Republic of Iran, based upon the results provided by my tracking software. In fact, the Islamic Republic of Iran is the home country of the third largest group of readers of this blawg, after the United States (natch) and Canada.

And, since the Islamic Republic of Iran is not the most open place in the world, I have to assume that Ahmadinejad enjoys the site so much that he has
given his imprimatur to The Lifeguard.

Pretty cool, isn't it?

Saturday, May 17, 2008

Prom Night 2008

I Was Pumping A Tank Of $4.03 Per Gallon Gasoline...
when a slick, white Mercedes-Benz pulled into the bay next to me. I didn't pay much attention until the car's passengers, a pimply-faced teen, in a bad tuxedo (complete with a bad black shirt and a bad black cravat) and a pretty girl, wearing a passable prom-style dress, walked back to the car.

Aside from the fact that there are just so many things wrong with a black shirt and tie worn with a black tuxedo (or with anything else, for that matter), I didn't think too much of this young man's transgression; nor, did I give much attention to the young woman.

As I was getting my receipt (for $75.00 worth of gasoline), I watched the young man--forever known to me as "Douchebag One"--get into the car, while his date started to activate the pump.

Springing to action (after assessing the fact that I could kick the ass of Douchebag One), I said to the young woman, "Excuse me, but you are just too darned pretty to be pumping your own gasoline."

Her: "Thank you, but I think I can do it."

Me: "And, I know that there will be no sex on Prom Night, because your date has no balls."

Him: [Getting out of the car, straightening his get-up like Douchebaggy Bag, the famous Midwest Rapper.] "Hey! Like, what are you trying to say, Dawg?"*

Me: "That you, sir--and I use that term loosely--are a wimp and a weenie for letting such a beautiful young woman pump her own gas."

Him: "Dawg, it's...like...her car."

Me: "It doesn't...like...matter, Dawg. You should still do the right thing and at least offer to pump the gas. It's...like...a metaphor, Dawg."

Him: [Getting his Irish up.] "Daw..."

Me: [Giving him a roundhouse kick to the head, then filling her tank.]** "How old are you?"

Him: [Sprawled on the ground, bleeding from the nose.] "Ugh."

Her: "Seventeen. Why?"

Me: "Just wondering."

Her: "Are you doing anything tonight? I would love a real man to be my date to the prom."

And thus, the Legend of the Lifeguard grows...

*He was white. No self-respecting white man calls anyone (walking on two legs) "Dawg." For this alone, he deserved a boot to the head. He was also entitled to a boot to the head for the sartorial choices made earlier in the evening; for letting his date even get out of the car, let alone pump her own gasoline; for the (too) frequent use of the word, "like"; and, for planning to take her to TGI Friday's for her Prom Night Meal.

**"Filling her tank" was just that, pumping her gas. What else could I have meant, you sick bastards?

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

Hillary!

Hillary! Wins Big In West By God Virginia

No one cares.

Mainly, because West Virginia is too white, too poor, and too stupid to be enlightened enough to vote for someone as worldly and wise as Senator B. Hussein Obama.

Hell, West Virgina's senior senator used to be in the Ku Klux Klan.

And, after all, who needs the white vote?

Oh, wait. Anyone who hopes to win the Presidency.

What everyone seems to have forgotten is this: Empirically, white folk (especially blue collar white folk) turn out come November. Regardless of whether they are Democrats or Republicans, they vote. They realise that their vote counts; and, that their vote may just be the one that holds the line (whatever that line may be).

In my experience, the only group more fervent in their turnout are Cuban-Americans.

On the other hand, Senator Obama's core constituency--blacks, young people, and guilt-addled white liberals--tend to stay away from the polls in November.

So, though Hillary! trails in delegates and Super Delegates, she is not out of the race. Unlike Eight Belles, this is one filly who will stay in the fight; and, who still has a credible chance of being the nominee.


Monday, May 05, 2008

I am not talking about the Guam Primary...

Big Brown Beats The Filly Going Away...

I am talking about the 134th running of the Kentucky Derby, you racist bastards.

In an exciting race, the 20-horse, Big Brown (going off at 7-2), came from nowhere to trounce the field, beating the filly, Eight Belles. However, tragedy followed when Eight Belles broke her foreleg on the track, and had to be euthanised.

The Lifeguard, not usually a big fan of horse racing, was hopeful as the horses broke from the gate. I had wagered--with former President Clinton--a box of Cuban cigars on Gayego (a horse owned by Cuban immigrants). Sadly, my horse is still running (although, so is former President Clinton's). He had staked it all on Recapturetheglory.

So, the (former) Prez and I sat down together to watch the race as we slugged back a couple of pitchers of mint juleps. The best part, however, was watching the hot chicks with their big hats. Oh, and we used every one of those cigars...if you know what I mean.

Ah, The Kentucky Derby....

Thursday, May 01, 2008

My gang sign...


No Confusion Here, Damnit!

Boston Celtics star, Paul Pierce, was fined Twenty Five Thousand ($25,000.00) Dollars for allegedly flashing the Piru Blood Gang Sign.

The Lifeguard can never be fined for his gang sign, as demonstrated by television's Robert Blake.