After being told that one of my pairs of jeans had an enormous hole in the ass, I bought a new pair that just came in the mail today. They are supposedly unique in that they are more durable than most jeans, but more unusual, these are manufactured in a medium-security state prison in Pendleton, OR.

I have been thinking about jail lately since I read some disturbing statistics regarding our prison system . The United States has more prisoners per capita than any other country in the world; we lead Russia [#2] by almost 50%. Furthermore, our prison population growth outstrips overall population growth by 200%.

Either Americans are the most poorly-behaved people in the world, and are only getting worse - or something is seriously fucked up. Reading this week's News of the Weird [items #1 and #6, in particular] it seems that the latter is more likely than the former.

At any rate, these jeans are made in America, by Americans, who make $8/hour - with 80% being withheld for restitution, room & board, &c., and the rest being either sent home to the inmate's family or kept in a savings account until they're released. They are competitively priced at $30/pair and come in my preferred size of 29x34. I feel pretty special with my jail jeans.

Also: good news today about al-Zarqawi; there is an interesting, though somewhat dated, article about him here: . Now, if the war had been 1500 miles east of where it is, it would have been his boss, and that would have been much better news. But, we take what we can get. Good job, guys- let's get this shit done so you can come home.

- Z

I will refrain from engaging in the tradition of posting porn on my 69th post, but I will send you to this that is SFW but probably shouldn't be.

Last night we moved Marjory to her new home in front of the garage rather than behind. I really don't know whether the inspector will go for it, but he did say his only concern was whether it met code - and that is one thing that it does.

Anyway, about the front yard- we have added a cute little brick pathway, expanded one garden, and created a raised bed, and filled them all with flowers. (e:dragonlady7) spent all yesterday finishing it up, and it looks fabulous. But I was very amused today when I came home from work to find-- well, it looks like the psycho cuntbag next door is trying to keep up with the Joneses. And the Joneses are, of all people - me and (e:dragonlady7) ! She had flats and flats of new flowers that she was planting in her front yard, and it is just driving her crazy that our front yard looks nicer than hers.

- Z. Jones

An actual email exchange that occurred between myself and our accountant-ish person. [Back story: the air conditioner in the back office barely works, and it vents into a closet rather than to the outside world. The closet has an external door, but it's deadbolted and very few people have a key.]

Hello all.

Now that the warm weather is here, please remember to close all the windows when you leave at night. Safety, security.

and... if you choose to turn on the A/C, please close all the windows, we don't need to cool the alley.

and lastly, please remember to turn OFF the A/C when you leave, we don't need to cool the back office from 6pm-9am either.

Thank you for being energy conscious.

And yet, if we only turn it on in the morning, the office does not cool off before 5pm.

Yes, but today... it's not even 70 degree's out... and your office is a refrigerator... people are wearing Wool Sweaters, and it's early June, what shall we do in the heat of July and August?

[Someone] suggested that venting the air conditioner back into the office is a less-than-efficient use of energy; if you or whoever has a key to the back door could remember to open it in the morning and close it at night, it would vent to the outside and that may be enough to boost its efficiency enough that it actually works. If it doesn't, I would hope that we can get the air conditioner serviced or replaced before the heat of July and August hits.

Hello All...

the A/C has been installed in back for about two weeks.

The Electric Bill for the Front office is $320 - about average... we only turned on our A/C last week.
the Electric bill for the back office is $787... over three times the average amount for that space. Generally it's about $230

Please turn the A/C off when you leave at night. The room should cool off in about an hour after you turn it on the morning As for the video office, I think you have a whole other A/C system rigged up.

In my office and [the publisher]'s office there is no A/C at all.

Thank you for your cooperation.

The air conditioner has been running on high for the last 28 hours straight; our office is now the same temperature as the unconditioned warehouse, making me wonder where our $800 is going. We can continue cc'ing the whole office on snarky emails and go nowhere, or we could be productive and get the air conditioner serviced or replaced before the weather starts getting really hot. It would lower both the temperature and the electric bill, and make everyone involved happy. With the numbers you quoted, the service would pay for itself in under two weeks. Or we could throw away $800 every month and sweat our collective balls off.

The publisher just called me and said we can get a key to open the back door.

- Z

(e:dragonlady7) ,

If you and (e:zobar) want to really get at the old bitch next door, I can bring over about 1500 pounds of grass clippings to add to your compost pile. Not sure if you remember the muppets other show, fraggle rock, and the all knowing trash heap, we could build one in your back yard. I can also get as much dirt as you may need to mix with the compost. All of this is free, of course. Also, if the town forces you to get rid of the compist pile, we could probably take care of that, too. [My other cousin] has a 1 acre swamp that we are in the process of filling in, and we could move the compost to the swamp, if it becomes necessary. I would love to see the look on the bitches face when I show up with a truck loaded with grass clippings!! By the way, I apologize if I butchered the spelling of your name.



- [My cousin]

and that's all there is to it. I just got off the phone with the building inspector re: the Compost Heap of the Apocalypse with what I felt was a reasonable compromise that would address his fire hazard concerns. [I offered to build a firewall out of hollow concrete blocks between the compost heap and the garage, which we agreed in principle adequately addressed the fire hazard.] He said nope, 3' from the garage and 3' from the property line, regardless of actual danger of fire.

I then went on to explain what she did with the last inspector who came by, calling his office every day for a week after he signed off on it, and eventually filing his inbox with false statements. He asked if I would want a compost heap next to my property. I said if she didn't like it where it is, she was far less likely to like it where it will be. I asked if he had any better suggestions for where to put it. He came up empty. I asked if moving it was the only solution. He said code is code, and moving it is the only solution. I sighed and said would you mind at least coming by next Monday or Tuesday when somebody will be around? He said no problem.

So it looks like it's going 3' from the front of the garage and 3' from the fence. Code is code, and if she's still angry, at least she's got someone to call every day for a week.

- Z

Yesterday was a busy day for me. I went with my very talkative aunt to collect a couch from my cousin in Rochester. While we were chatting, she told me a funny story about how very small Buffalo is. We live next door to two people who are completely unrelated to us. And yet, it turns out that my cousin dated the guy once, a long time ago, and furthermore, my grandmother dated his grandfather. Weird.

Then I was the designated driver for my buddy Tom's stag party. The party proper was pretty good- a large group of old Italian men drank beer and raised several hundred dollars to send Tom off. We went out afterwards and I had a pretty good time, though I think Tom's fiancee put him in a somewhat difficult position by forbidding him outright from visiting the Canadian ballet [I was not too broken up about it, but predictably it caused some friction] and also calling his cell about half a dozen times throughout the evening. Early on, Chris declared that we were out to get as close to arrested as possible without actually getting arrested [which would understandably be detrimental to his career as a lawyer] but I nevertheless sensed a not-insignificant amount of bad vibes coming from his direction when I lit up a doobie on the very crowded and isolated patio of 67 West. [It was worth it, though, just for Gwyll's triple-take when he eventually realized the cork-tipped 100mm filtered cigarette was not exactly kosher.] After a quick stop at Louies, I still got home before 4am, though not by much. I feel bad for Tom, who drank an enormous amount of alcohol, and Chris, who matched him and has to write a 15-page legal brief today.

When I came home from the stag, I found a citation for my compost pile (e:zobar,44) (e:zobar,45) - this time from the Town of Tonawanda, because the heap, which is approximately as dry as a wrung-out sponge, is an apparent fire hazard. I am quite annoyed as the letter, dated 1 July, only arrived yesterday and it seems to suggest that the inspector will return tomorrow. Furthermore, I can't even tell whether an inspection was made in the first place. This is seriously cramping my chill.

- Z

So I had a power lunch today with Maxwell Truth who is trying to put together an Internet-based television station with the help of yours truly. We agree that it is the wave of the future and that we must act quickly. We tentatively agreed to start once we signed up seven shows, one for each day of the week, for a ten-week season. I suggested that there are many talented and interesting people who would love to be on TV, so if this thing gets off the ground, the plan is to solicit pilot episodes from the public within the next couple of months. The shows would be self-produced and on any topic; we would contract with the best shows for a full ten-week season with an option to continue. In return, the producers will receive publicity and, tentatively, a cut of the advertising revenue according to the show's popularity. I know there are a couple video people on here - I would be very interested to hear your thoughts on this and to gauge interest.

Re: (e:dragonlady7,31)



Two of my coworkers made these, and have been selling them in front of the arena before home games. Larry Quinn liked them so much that he asked us to turn it into a video clip that we ran on the Jumbotron.

- Z

So (e:dragonlady7) 's parents left for home this morning, leaving a number of unfinished projects finished and unstarted projects started. I wish that we had Hung Out more and Made Them Work less, but ... that is how things go sometimes. It is a shame that my scooter's tire is still flat [hm, it doesn't look like I posted about the Saga. Regardless- the flat tire is still thus] because Mr. (e:dragonlady7) is both a gearhead and a funny old man who would have a blast tearing up the neighborhood with it. Oh well, he'll have to come back later in the summer. He did manage to have a chat with a Ms. Lavell, who rides the same model scooter as I [though in a more tasteful minty green], and who as far as I know constitutes the entirety of the Buffalo chapter of Scooter Queers Riding Everywhere and More. I guess they [she?] are having a Pride Ride this weekend.

The paper this week is an enormous 96 pages, as it is our Summer Guide. In retrospect, this was a terrible issue for me to decide to expand our multimedia offerings . Certain unnamed (e:peeps) may be pleased to know that our music editor considers Gnarls Barkley's St. Elsewhere to be 'the first must-have album to pump on the car stereo this summer,' and I have come to agree. My column is on autopilot this week, having been submitted by an anonymous former staffer.

Now that all is once again quiet at 40 Hartford, it is time to ...change ...my ...journal music? Yes!

This is Gator Tango from the Wild Things soundtrack, composed and performed by George S Clinton, who is joined by guitarist Greg Camp of Smash Mouth, and bassist Mark Sandman and saxophonist Dana Colley of Morphine. gather:0770627001149120625

- Z

Last night I was talking to some people about the kinds of anarchists, lunatics, and terrorists who perennially leave us messages in our mailbag, email inboxes, and voice mail systems. Eventually we decided that, while we don't have the room to print them, we could at least put the more entertaining voice mails on our website. Thus:

What's happening, man? My name is MC Moses, and I was calling in response to the article in the Artvoice, and what I was wondering is why on earth would you people put an article about some poseur by the name of MC Sick? That motherfucker be acting like he's from the Bronx, and he be from Long Island. I don't know if you motherfuckers have a clue, but there's a major difference between being from Long Island and being from the Bronx, you know what I'm saying? I mean, I'm from Brooklyn, and I've got all these DJs that throw down fat beats, and I didn't see or hear anything about my name in that article, and I'm pissed off, so you better call my DJ back [phone number omitted]. You better call him back and straighten this out, because there ain't no way you guys are going to print an article about Buffalo hip-hop and not include my motherfucking name, know what I'm saying? Because I get down, I get funky, and I get motherfucking live, alright? So you motherfuckers need to recognize that what I do is motherfucking cut, alright? So call my motherfucking DJ back, because I'm pissed off and we need to straighten this shit out, you know what I'm saying?

'Letters,' v5n17 in response to 'This Is Buffalo Hip-Hop,' v5n16 .

I see Bruce Jackson is writing the same things, over and over and over now, and week after week. And of course, a nice little touch: bring back the Peace Bridge. He's like a two-issue person. If you could pass that along to Doctor, Mister, whatever, Shithole Jackson, tell him to kill himself, because he's clearly no use in this world. And, you know, your paper is shit. It's not even worth being free. You're not the Beast. The Beast is amusing. Yours is annoying. The Buffalo Current made me wince, and thankfully that died. Maybe your paper will die. Maybe you will all kill yourselves. The Buffalo News is not much better. I'd be willing to raise money to send him back to Guatemala. I'll sell t-shirts, pass that along to him. Nick Beat- was that his name at UB? Yeah, Nick Beat. OK, your paper is shit. It's absolute shit. You just run every issue into the ground. Oh, and by the way, the Elmwood Avenue hotel- why don't you point out that you have lots at stake in it? That's why you're in favor. Otherwise, you're opposed to everything, development... I hope somebody builds a Walgreen's right on top of your heads, and smothers you and kills you. A big old Walgreen's. And a Rite-Aid, and a Wal-Mart, and an airport, and kills you because you're useless. Your paper is shit. You sell casinos advertising, yet you rail against it. How about Ralph Wilson? Those are OK. I think all the money for the Bills goes to Michigan, Detroit, doesn't it? Sabres money goes to Rochester, to Golisano. And the Bisons? I think the Riches hang out in Florida. That don't matter, does it? Because you're pretty much whores. You sell out to the highest-- 'End of messages.'

'Letters,' v5n19 in response, perhaps, to 'Sweet Nothings: When "Dead Deals" Are Better Than "Done Deals,' v5n10 , part of Bruce Jackson's interminable Casino Chronicles series.

- Z

somebody puked on my pillow and called it my head. Nice meeting all y'alls and hanging out.

Usually when I go to a party of people I haven't met I just kind of hang out in the corner and quietly eat all the nachoes. But since I've been following all of your lives, loves, and recipes online for the last couple months, I felt it much easier to talk to people.

- Z