Roweth thou, thy bitty boat.
Gently round the mellow moat.
And merrily, verily,
Thou shall see,
Life is but a reverie.
Tag Archives: parody
5.11 Tactical TFL Tactical Shoelaces
I’m always glad to see a new product from 5.11 Tactical, and as usual, they don’t disappoint. The TFL (Tactical Footwear Laces) series is a new look at the old concept of tying your shoes. Designed from the ground up by 5.11 engineers with input from US Navy SEALs, Russian Spetsnaz, British SAS, Israeli cooks, Al Quaeda terrorists, Cub Scouts, Swedish blogger Blondinbella and the cast of Jersey Shore, the TFL series were field tested for almost four hours over the rugged terrain of a warehouse floor in Modesto, CA.
While conventional laces are only concerned with keeping your footgear tied, TFLs are part of a complete tactical system. Made from mil-spec 550 parachute cord, TFLs contain multiple strands that can be unraveled and deployed in any number of tactically tactical ways. Need to snare a rabbit? Make a tripwire for a grenade/mason jar booby trap? Tie down your trunk after a particularly fruitful trip to IKEA? Tie up a blonde Swedish blogger? With TFLs, you’ll always be prepared. Plus, with a piece of turquoise or a .50 cal casing you can turn them into a bolo tie! Never be caught unprepared for an impromptu dinner party again!
Not only are TFLs functional, they’re aesthetically pleasing, too. They come in every camo pattern in use by every major military in the world for the past 50 years (because who’d want to be the idiot wearing Flecktarn BDUs with Alpenflage laces on their boots?) as well as basic black, day-glo orange, and pink paisley.
I bought a pair to try, and man do my feet feel tactical now. I even showed them to Kang, who said “that’s nice dear, now go mow the damn lawn!”
Fucking Suburban Blogger Assholes
Here I was in my nice little suburban hell, thinking all was right with the world. Soccer moms in gigantic SUVs trucking around their overprivileged kids, smug Republican dads forwarding racist anti-Obama emails, illegals blowing leaves. Then, out of nowhere, I run a cross some caped fucktardian on the internet inconveniencing electrons with their infantile rants. Yeah, I bet you think you’re so fucking awesome with your Swedish car, speaking all kinds of foreign languages no one gives a shit about and getting all worked up about how everyone sucks except you. Oh, Republicans are stupid, huh? The health care system is fucked up? You have some kind of deep thoughts to share with us? News flash Jack Handey, you’re not that special. Everyone’s got a fucking blog these days. Hell, I’M a suburbanite with a blog who rants about Republicans, health care and stupid people, all while sharing deep insights to the human condition that I observe while speaking to foreigners and driving around in my Saab.
Oh, wait…
Poetry Corner
In order to keep the poetry coming this holiday weekend, I’ll post this classic from Little Richard. I first heard this recited by Steve Allen, in a melding of the music and poetry worlds years before Bob Dylan.
A-bop-bop-a-loom-op a-lop-bop-boom
Tutti frutti, oh rudy
Tutti frutti, oh rudy
Tutti frutti, oh rudy
Tutti frutti, oh rudy
Tutti frutti, oh rudy
A-bop-bop-a-loom-op a-lop-bop-boom
I’ve got a gal, named Sue
She know just what to do
I got a gal, named Sue
She knows just what to do
She rocks to the east
She rolls to the west
She’s the gal that I love best
Tutti frutti, oh rudy
Tutti frutti, oh rudy
Tutti frutti, oh rudy
Tutti frutti, oh rudy
Tutti frutti, oh rudy
A-bop-bop-a-loom-op a-lop-bop-boom
I’ve got a gal, named Daisy
She almost drives me crazy
I’ve got a gal, named Daisy
She almost drives me crazy
She knows how to love me
Yes indeed, boy you don’t know
What she’s doin’ to me
Tutti frutti, oh rudy
Tutti frutti, oh rudy
Tutti frutti, oh rudy
Tutti frutti, oh rudy
Tutti frutti, oh rudy
A-bop-bop-a-loom-op a-lop-bop-boom
Tutti frutti, oh rudy
Tutti frutti, oh rudy
Tutti frutti, oh rudy
Tutti frutti, oh rudy
Tutti frutti, oh rudy
A-bop-bop-a-loom-op a-lop-bop-boom
I’ve got a gal named Daisy
She almost drives me crazy
I’ve got a gal, named Daisy
She almost drives me crazy
She knows how to love me
Yes indeed, boy you don’t know
What she’s doin’ to me
Tutti frutti, oh rudy
Tutti frutti, oh rudy
Tutti frutti, oh rudy
Tutti frutti, oh rudy
Tutti frutti, oh rudy
A-bop-bop-a-loom-op a-lop-bop-boom