[See previous post for context]

Never, ever underestimate the combined power of blogs and Stacy's wrath.

Stacy - and everyone else who emailed Hooters today - received this response from Hooters management:

Thank you for expressing your concern regarding the contest in Florida. A store manager decided to host an event for the employee's children which is not a part of Hooters National Marketing promotions, and has been cancelled.
Best regards,

Alexis Aleshire
Marketing
Hooters of America
1815 The Exchange
Atlanta, GA 30339

Added Stacy:

That sounds like an utter load of horseshit to me, but the goal of getting the damned thing cancelled has been accomplished. Many thanks to everyone who linked to this and sent email to Hooters. GO TEAM!!!

Damn straight. Thanks for taking the intiative, Stacy.

Update: Interesting update from Stacy:

**UPDATE the seventh - Husband just arrived home and reminded me of the phone conversation he had with the Hooters employee last night (he's the one that made the call)...and the person on the phone told us there was no entry fee and to be sure to get there early to sign up. Gee, that really sounds like an "event for the employee's children" doesn't it. NOT. I've emailed the Hooters rep with this bit of info, curious to see what she/he comes back with.

Verrrry interesting.

You know I have this thing about lists, so when I saw FAD was making lists today, I decided to steal his idea. Mostly because, while I feel like blogging, I don't feel like blogging anything that is going to make my head ache today.

FAD made this list up.

• Song that most makes me want to kick someone's ass.
  Sepultura - Roots, Bloody Roots
  I dare you to listen to this song and not get the urge to lace up the Doc Martens and find someone to kick. It's Max. He brings out the animal in me.

• Most Romantic Song
  Type O Negative - Love You to Death
  Come on, is there anything more romantic than I am your servant, may I light your cigarette? Sure, you may think I'm confusing romantacism

• Best Song For Seducing The Ladies
  Well, I haven't tried to seduce many ladies, but I suppose if were going that way I would try Prodigy's Firestarter. And maybe that's why I don't get any girls.

• Secret Shame Favorite Song
  Limp Bizkit - Sour.

Shut up. Just. Shut. Up. At least I have the balls to admit it.

• Best Song Involving Confusion Over Eye Color
  The obvious (and I believe only) answer is FAD's: Temptation, New Order.

That was a really short list. If you make up some more categories/questions whatever you want to call them, I'll put my answer up. Stick to the music theme.

This post brough to you by a huge case of Friday Work Procrastination. And Farm Accident Digest.

Update:

As per Steve: Song I should like but I don't: For some reason people think I'm supposed to be using Lee Greenwood's God Bless the USA as my personal anthem.

Honestly, I don't think there are many songs I hate more.

Also, I think I'm supposed to like Megadeth, it's like one of the rules of Metal Club that you're not supposed to talk about. But I hate Megadeth. I hate Dave Mustaine. And now, this guy is going to take away my Metal Club card.

Little Miss Hooters: Wrong, in so many ways.

Update: I know that this story is in good hands with Stacy, but anyone else in the Tampa Bay area who is as horrified at the prospect of a Little Miss Hooters as we are, should call their local papers and television stations.

Update: Score one for the blogosphere!

I am blockquoting this whole thing from Jeff Jarvis, as he picked out the prize paragraphs:

[Before you read this, let it be known that I do think grieving parents should be given a bit of leeway in situations like this; as I've said many times in just the past week, grief makes people do and say things that may not seem rational to others. However, Mr. Berg was a far, far leftie before his son was murdered. Everything I have read about and by the man leads me to believe that he truly believes in everything he is saying below]

People ask me why I focus on putting the blame for my son's tragic and atrocious end on the Bush administration. They ask: "Don't you blame the five men who killed him?" I have answered that I blame them no more or less than the Bush administration, but I am wrong: I am sure, knowing my son, that somewhere during their association with him these men became aware of what an extraordinary man my son was. I take comfort that when they did the awful thing they did, they weren't quite as in to it as they might have been. I am sure that they came to admire him.

I am sure that the one who wielded the knife felt Nick's breath on his hand and knew that he had a real human being there. I am sure that the others looked into my son's eyes and got at least a glimmer of what the rest of the world sees. And I am sure that these murderers, for just a brief moment, did not like what they were doing.

George Bush never looked into my son's eyes. George Bush doesn't know my son, and he is the worse for it. George Bush, though a father himself, cannot feel my pain, or that of my family, or of the world that grieves for Nick, because he is a policymaker, and he doesn't have to bear the consequences of his acts. George Bush can see neither the heart of Nick nor that of the American people, let alone that of the Iraqi people his policies are killing daily....

Even more than those murderers who took my son's life, I can't stand those who sit and make policies to end lives and break the lives of the still living....

So what were we to do when we in America were attacked on September 11, that infamous day? I say we should have done then what we never did before: stop speaking to the people we labelled our enemies and start listening to them. Stop giving preconditions to our peaceful coexistence on this small planet, and start honouring and respecting every human's need to live free and autonomously, to truly respect the sovereignty of every state. To stop making up rules by which others must live and then separate rules for ourselves.

I do understand why a lot of people are anti-Bush. Their belief system varies from mine and that's all well and good. Different strokes, etc. But this goes beyond reason.

Like Jeff said, Mike Berg is using his son as a poltical pawn. Worse, he is using his son's death to gain sympathy for terrorists.

And I am sure that these murderers, for just a brief moment, did not like what they were doing.

The shouts of Allahu Akbar and the excuberant chanting tells me otherwise.

So this guy thinks that in response to 9/11, we should have stopped what we were doing and gone over for a group hug with those people so we can better get to know them and find out why they want to kill us so.

Root causes, my ass. You know what the root cause of all this? For 2,000 years, radical Islamists have believed that they own the right to chop off the heads of infidels. Last I checked, George W. Bush was not around 2,000 years ago.

And let me tell you, Mr. Berg - if George Bush had looked into your son's eyes, it wouldn't be while he was slicing his head off.

Proof is in the pudding. Even if the terrorists that killed Nick Berg found him to be a wonderful human being who supported their cause, they still killed him. Is Mike Berg ok with that?

I'm never going to get tired of repeating this: They. Will. Kill. You. When they attack us again - and they will - they will kill you, too. They will not care if you belong to ANSWER or Move On. They will not care that you support them. They will not be going through the buildings or subways or whatever structure they plan to blow up and pull out the anti-war people. Make no mistake, they hate you. They will use you as pawns while they can but in the end, you'll be on the same end of their terrorism as I will. You are completely delusional if you think otherwise, just as you are delusional if you think this war of civilizations can ever be settled. People who believe that their god gives them the right to slice necks and blow up buildings will never, ever come to a peaceful settlement of any kind, at least not one that doesn't involve your conversion to Islam.

Mike Berg is an opportunist who is seizing the moment of his son's death as a way to spread his leftist propaganda.

How incredibly disgusting.

[More from the Captain]

This first place moment is dedicated to the Soxaholix.

Update: Speaking of my favorite Red Sox fans, one of my best buddies, Solly (hey, he's a leftie and a Sox fan! Cats and dogs!), wanted to do something nice for me in light of all my stress and whatnot yesterday, so he - being the rock and roll god that he is - recorded himself singing the I Love You song for me, complete with smoking guitar solo. You can find it over in my metal up your ass radio station over there on the left. If you are so inclined - and you really should be inclined - you can hear more of the Great Solonor's guitar/vocal work over here.

the thursday portion of radio, radio goes out to carol

Tonight's ASV radio program (left sidebar) reflects the current mood, which is one that I call combustible.

If you like your music loud and hard you will most certainly enjoy tonight's playlist. If you don't, I suggest you wait until tomorrow for something more soothing.

The Dillinger Escape Plan song features the vocal stylings of the one and only Mike Patton, in a remake of Aphex Twins' Come to Daddy.

The Prong song is for Rob.

Bang your head, kids. Do it for me. Do it for America.

[I may take a few requests as long as I'm here - just make sure they fit with the playlist and I'll see if I can dig your song up]

Update: Added some Sepultura by special request.

Fuck you.

It is people like you that are making a mockery out of what these hearings were supposed to be about. You don't even give a crap about 9/11. It is all about putting the spotlight on yourself for you grandstanding activists. To compare yourself and your showboating boyfriend to Martin Luther King, Jr. and Rosa Parks just shows how god damn ignorant you are. The only reason you were there is because your boyfriend is a career activist with a hard on for Rudy Giuliani. Just like a typical moonbat, you took someone else's cause and made it your own. I feel sorry for those that thought you were there to take up their banner. Now you're trying to gain some celebrity off of Christopher's outburst. You're a fucking leech of society. You may be proud of yourself and your antics now, but I hope some day down the road you look in the mirror and realize what that you were nothing but an activism whore. Sadly, your activism is all smoke and mirrors, nothing more than illusions conjoured up by your boyfriend so he can get his jollies by hounding Giuliani.

Fuck you.

[Karol wrote on this yesterday. Make sure you read all the comments. What a couple of egotistical, delusional swines]

*

So some of you caught the missing post here and wondered what happened. You guessed correctly: Another delay with the house.

The problem is that we are dealing with a divorcing couple. Whatever ugly things are going on between the two, we are left dealing with the aftermath.

Today's holdup comes because the guy just can't seem to fly in tomorrow. He knew about this all week, yet he just can't get a flight in tomorrow. Right. The woman doesn't even want to sell the house, but she has to as part of the divorce settlement. I'm not going to hold anything against her; from what the neighbors tell me, the guy just up and left her right after she gave birth to their only child. He told some of the guys that he just didn't want to be married or a father. Great time to decide that, asswipe.

So now the guy screws us (most likely in the effort to screw his wife from getting the much needed money from the sale of the house) and we are left here amid boxes upon boxes of our belongings.

When I say we are all ready to kill each other, I do not exaggarate. We have nothing. Everything is packed. And all the packed stuff is pile around the place so there's really nowhere to move. Two people cannot be in a room at the same time. We want to paint and clean up before we leave, but we can't do that until we get the furniture out of here, which we can't do because...well, that's obvious. Meanwhile, I have a new bedroom set and a couch stored at someone else's house and they kind of want it out of their house.

I am barely holding it together right now, so you'll all understand if I go crawl under my bed and never come out, right? Or maybe I'll just spontaneously combust. They'll find pieces of me scattered all over the tri-state area. Just scrape them up and throw them out along with the cicada shells.

Or maybe I'll just open the tequila and load some really loud, angry songs into the radio station.

What I'll probably end up doing is crying, though. I'll shake my fists and sing the doom song while I do it, but I will cry my little heart out.

Deep breaths. Deeeeep breaths.