My father was a leading architect with Turner and went on to start his own construction company. He designed and built skyscrapers in Manhattan and multi-million dollar complexes all over New York and New Jersey. After a day’s work he could take a step back, take a look at what he created, and be filled with a sense of pride and self worth. The only time I can relate to this feeling is when I take an impressive dump.

I’ve accepted the fact that I will never be able to reach the same level of accomplishment or status as my dear old Dad. I feel as though I’m at least living the retirement that he never got a chance to enjoy. So, due to the fact that I have resigned myself to my fate, and the knowledge that this CRAP blog will probably be my only living legacy, I have decided to do something that he always wanted to do. My father always wanted a Jaguar XJ6, and during his relatively short life, he was too busy working and building shit to get around to it. So here’s to you Paps. Meet Mandy, my Jag:

She runs on LPG, so I will save lots of loot-cake on gas (which is HUGE over here). As long as nothing breaks, I should be in the clear…

This CRAP’s to you Dad! You always gave without taking. I miss you and wish you were here…

Love always,

Matthew

And a big FUCK YOU to you Mr. President. How does it feel, scum bag? Unfortunately, I’m sure you don’t even care…

Not that I give a shit about our boy president. I tend to think he has about as much influence on decisions being made in the White House as his intellect would suggest. I’m sure the persuasion goes something like, “Hey G Dub, sign this and you’ll get an extra hour in the Whopper Hoppeeeeer!”

They might as well be putting a bobble-head monkey behind the press podium. His prepared speeches are so repetitious and predictable that even I have started to get them memorized, yet this Yale graduate still can’t get’em right! Every time this guy gets up to say something, America cringes while he blindly gropes his way through another losing brawl with the English language.

Who’s worse, the president or the people who voted for him? YOU MAKE THE CALL:

The way A.C. Slater maintained his composer is admirable.

I apologize…I know this whole George W. Bush spiel is kinda old, but I just can’t help myself. It’s so easy, and I just can’t believe the state of our Union at the moment.

“The leaders of the free world are just little boys throwing stones. They’re easy to ignore ’til they’re knockin’ on the door of your home….Seems we’re dropping the baton like the 60′s never happened”

- Elbow, “Leaders of the Free World” album

“This town needs and ENEMA!”

- Jack Nicholson as The Joker, Batman (1989)

I had this CRAP on cassette, but I think I gave it to baby Rishar along with my DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince. I think this is one of the best Movie Tuesday CRAPs ever. This is a Pelham Camp Wreak classic.

Go with a smile,

CRAP-MAN

ALF

I’m gonna kick this HARD and you can catch it,

CRAP-MAN

The resonating point is that the internet is the last BASStion of free speech and information. Enjoy it while it last. I know many internet contributors that I was viewing two or three years ago have been mysteriously vaporized. Where have you gone Halifaxion?

Luckily CRAP-MAN is too insignificant and stupid to gain any attention from Big Brother…for now.

In our week’s theme of mind and soul repression, I give you a symbolic CRAP to bring you into your weekend of Final Four distractions and soma induced self medication.

Breakout

When explanations make no sense,

CRAP-MAN

For the full documentary: Orwell Rolls in his Grave

Sky Pilot (long-version)

He’s a good holy man,

CRAP-MAN

So I got an email yesterday from a friend in NYC telling me how there is some new “Spy-ware” out that blocks people from reading blogs while at work. Another friend of mine is already not allowed to view any type of video content while at work. When I worked for the MAN we had “WebSense” to keep us in check. One guy I know can’t even receive emails with swear words in it, which, I might add, is easily subverted by using a$$ or $hit or Oi812. Oh shit, now the secret is out and Big Brother can put an end to this deviance as well…

WTF!?!

Apparently, all these changes are being made under the false flag impression that they increase worker productivity, and of course “security”. It also helps that you are exposed to as little uncensored, or dissident, information as possible during 8 hours of your day. I guess a three month interview process, a M.S. from Harvard, and being over 30 is not enough piece of mind that you will put in a solid day’s work. You still haven’t reached that level of disciplined maturity.

I will gladly remain a savage in this brave new world order we are in.

“But I don’t want comfort… I want God, I want poetry, I want real danger, I want freedom, I want goodness. I want sin.”

- said by the Savage in Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World, Ch. 17

Anyway, to conclude this mindless dribble that is distracting you from your work:

Many a young man has liberally emancipated himself to today’s CRAP.

It’s the one good thing that I’ve got,

CRAP-MAN

The guy I go climbing with is a Buddhist monk who studied for 2 years in Nepal, whilst living in a cave. He’s a rather unique individual; especially rare amongst the Germans. He also happens to be my martial arts instructor, having trained in the art of Pekiti-Tersia Kali and QiGong for over 25 years. It’s a sick coupling of Zen tranquility and the ability to kill a man just to watch him die. I bet they could really use a monk like him over in Tibet these days.

Anyway, I have been training on and off with him in Kali since 2003. Kali was a rather unknown fighting style but has gained some recent notice after its use by King Bad Ass himself, Jason Borne. It was even recently spotlighted on the Discovery Channel.

Unfortunately, I never got dowsed in the blood of a sacrificed chicken during my initiation… which I’m rather upset about.

So what is the point of today’s CB-log, besides building a point-of-reference for any future wanna-be boyfriends of my daughter? It serves as a great lead-in to this incredible CRAP I found over the weekend. Enjoy your Monday:

Mortal Kombat Annihilation

Choose your destiny,

CRAP-MAN

It was nothing too major, but my ex tends to panic and I’m always the first she calls. At first the doctors said Larkin needed stitches, but in the end they just glued it. She was a trooper and I am somewhat proud about her first real injury. It’s almost like a right of passage. There will be more, I’m sure, but hopefully they are as easily dispatched.

I’m late for a class, but here’s your Friday climax.

Shout

Let it all out,

CRAP-MAN

I’ve always wondered, why the idiom is “head over heels”? If you are sent for a loop, shouldn’t it be “heels over head”. I know I’m constantly head over heels. Something happened and we’re all head over heels. What happened? CRAP happens.

One little boy – one little man,

CRAP-MAN

CRAP 26.03

You better behave,

CRAP-MAN