All posts by Gonzo di Dottore

Gonzo di Dottore is a noted author, poet, photographer and bon vivant. Or was that savant. It's hard to tell sometimes. [He's not a real doctor, dumbass.]

Beer Reviews: Death From ABoVe


Miller Fortune : Home

It should read: MILLER FORTUNE IS PREMIUM Chevron UNleaded.  It is the Sex Panther of shitty mass marketed quasi-malt liquor. Continue reading

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Motley Crue

Christine Sixteen

Like last week, driving the kid to school is an adventure in poltergeists. This time, we hop in the car and this

starts playing. Immediately. Spontaneously, on my phone. On Pandora. In my pocket.

Is it an electronic glitch related to Kid 2′s failing phone?

Is my phone possessed?

Since it only happens in the car, is my Car possessed?

Based on the nature of the songs, I am leaning toward the latter.  I think the car is trying to get things synced before going full on Christine on me.


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Motley Crue

Pandora’s Box

So I am kid 2 us driving to school.  We stop at the Kwik-E-Mart for a beverage and some cash.  We hop back in the car.  As the car starts, from somewhere, the first few bars of this…

start blasting. However, the radio is off (because: kid driving). WTH? Where’s that music from?

Kid 2: Dad, that’s you.

Yep.  It’s me.  Pandora is playing. In my pants.

Karma:  Only because that is where the phone is.

I didn’t ask it (her?) to. I hit a button that should not make the app stop, but it did. (Usually, you have to navigate to a secret screen to get Pandora to STFU – it’s never this easy).

So, I am at a loss.  Is it an impossible pocket dial? A poltergeist?  The Thought Police NSA being cute?

Winston Smith: [observing the Prole woman from their hideaway] The future is hers… we are the dead…
Julia: We are the dead…
Big Brother: [voice] YOU ARE THE DEAD!

Was it Oprah, being all Dr. Phil about my life?

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Gene Simmons KISS

It’s About Time

As we all know, KISS is finally being inducted into the hall of fame.  And yes, they’re doing it on drama overload – invite all the past members, no performance because they’re all babies.  All that shit that is all over the media.

Last night I was listening to “Calling Dr. Love,” a tone poem of tribute to the lost art of romance when my radio told me that the Bee Gees song “How Deep Is You Love?” was on another channel.  I thought why not?  Why have these renaissance men, the thoughtful philosophers behind “Lick it Up”and “Plaster Caster” and “Let’s Put the X in Sex” not covered this song? Continue reading

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big brother 1984

Freedom Is Slavery

Oakland Cops Have a Spy Tool So Secret They Can’t Discuss It –  Deadline Detroit.

…Undersheriff Michael McCabe tells The News: “Hailstorm helps us capture fugitives from the law, people wanted for murder and rape” and can be used only with a search warrant. He said the federal Homeland Security Act bars him from discussing Hailstorm, but he elaborated at length about what it doesn’t do.

“It’s not a tool to spy on people, unequivocally,” McCabe says. “It does not record cellphone conversations. . . . Hailstorm does not capture personal information on anyone or store unintended target data. It does not take photos of anyone. It doesn’t take videos or fly in the sky. It’s a tool used for criminal investigations and it’s legal and lawful.”

Yes.  Who would ever understate the technical capabilities they have, or specifically deny what is obvious or misuse an offical device for an unoffical, off label purpose?  Certainly not the cops, and certainly not with DARPA/DHS “snooptech.”™

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Star trek mad magazine



uh huh. Read it and weep.

We’re 10.

1.0 x 10 ^1.

Unfuckingbelievable.  Who woulda thought this thing would last past the free trial at Blogharbor?  Not me.  Not my then-wife, but only (partially) because i never told her about it.

Now we’re a business and a media empire (as much as a blastocyst is a president or Justin Bieber can spell is an insightful curator of the human condition).

And yet, I missed the anniversary.  It began February 16, 2004.

Missing it may be because we had two weeks of, uh, revised domestic scheduling, leading to lots of IRL pursuits and frolics. And late hours of Warcrack. And time with my IRL children. And way too many carbs.

The very first post, as I recall, was “I need to sneeze.” [Ed.: Second, according to our fact checkers.  We killed that long ago, but the first first one is still here, albeit redated.] We were Gene Simmons before Gene Simmons was Gene Simmons and before a Twitter(er) ever twatted.

That was on “Everybody and the Girl,” which I meant to call “Everybody and their dog” after some line in a movie.  No, it was not intentionally porn, although we did repost porn for a little while.

Why porn?  Because we could! Woo hoo intertubes!!!

Because that name was stupid, we renamed it Brain Farts on Acid. More accurate, except for the acid part.  Then, I remembered a letter I got from before there was a site.  One last name change and a pricey domain later and here we’ve been ever since.

Yay us.

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My Frat Bro Russell

Russell Something-or-other drove aFiero like this. Drive-By Shootings: The Lesser Lights.

Pontiac FieroWe would call it “the Chevette of 1980s mid-engined ‘sports’ cars,” except that it involves Russell the stoner.  We nearly got in a fight with him about his previous car, a Pontiac T1000.  We called it a Chevette by any other name: he was adamant that not only was it NOT merely a re-badged POS, it had “completely different wiring” and components.

Uh, no, sorry.  Go hit that bong again, dude.

So, we’ll just say “Oh look” and be glad this one doesn’t have a JC Whitney vinyl bra like Russell’s.

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