I guess Kerry conceded.

Quitter.

Where's my recount and lawsuits?

My sweater still smells funny, but I think it's because it's made of wool. I always think my sweaters smell funny. Yet I still wear them.

And, yes. It is actually cold enough in the mornings here to wear a sweater. I will change shirts here shortly as I may be outside for part of the afternoon.

My contacts also feel very dry today, so I've been doing this thing where I open my eyes very wide and then close them very tight, hopign to generate some extra moisture. It's not working.

I am very, very tired today.

I guess Bush'll probably win.

Not much else to say about that.

The sweater I am wearing smells funny, but I can't identify the smell.

A little election time blogging.

Sooooooo.......... Who you votin' for?

Just kidding. It's Presidential Election Day here in the USofA. I hope you aren't reading this unless you already got up, combed your hair and moseyed down to your polling place. If you already voted, good for you. if you didn't, well... why are you reading this? Get off your bum and go vote. NOW!!!

I don't know that this is the most important election of my lifetime. I think that will come into play in 2056 when we must vote for George Bush the 5th or Zilwork Blurgg of the Crab Nebula (I am sure his/her story of being the child of immigrant aliens and his/her 450 fellow nestlings growing up in poverty in New Kentucky will be very moving).

In short, I just looked at my practice ballot, and this election is stupid. There's only one party with any power in Arizona, and thusly, only one candidate with a chance for winning. I mean, I'm going to vote because I can and because I'm glad we're not all prisoner of the whims of, say... Barbara Streisand, but, you know... as those who know better would have it, I am so far outside the mainstream that I am out of touch with middle-America. That's fine. Middle-America and I don't always see eye-to-eye (I still don't love Raymond). It just kind of makes voting in elections out here a sort of fruitless effort.

Out of 14 total partisan races going down, 5 of them have a Dem running, 4 of them have a Libertarian, and 7 are either an unopposed Republican running or two Republicans running against only each other(1). But anything can happen. We do have a Democrat in the Capital as governor, so it's a crazy world.

I also thought I'd mention that we don't vote FOR judges, we vote against them. There are no NEW judges on the ballot, just fifty (50) items which read like this:

Shall Tipsy McStagger, Judge of Superior Court Division Y be retained in office? Yes? No?

I think this is one of those areas where I'm going to have to plead ignorance, because no matter how much I cram tonight with my little newsprint booklet, there is no way I'm going to know enough to make an informed decision here. And by the time I do know enough about how any of these judges operate, I assume I will be in jail and be unable to vote, anyway.

I assume judges are appointed and then fired by the populace out here. Which, you know, has a sort of poetic-justice mob-mentality charm I can groove on.

I probably should read up on who the two candidates are who dare to run against McCain for Senator here in AZ, but it's kind of like learning the starting line-up of the Washington Generals.

All in all, I project that I'll spend about five minutes in the ballot box.

Broken down, it will look like this:

10 seconds voting for POTUS
3 minutes voting on Propositions
1 minute writing my own name in on all other elections
50 seconds standing in my booth weeping with joy that this f**king ridiculous circus of an election is over and that either Ass-Clown #1 or Ass-Clown #2 will take office and hopefully not get me killed or rob me blind or let the rest of America get killed or robbed blind. I think that's a pretty low set of expectations I've placed on Ass-Clowns #1 and #2. I'm pretty sure they're both up to the job.

While I'm at it, I'd like Ass-Clowns #1 & #2 to also try not to do so much shameful nonsense during their terms in office that what they wind-up most famous for are the series of untruths to which they committed themselves. I'd like for Ass-Clowns #1& #2 to TRY to occasionally remember that not all of us love what Ass-Clown #1 or #2 wants to do with the world, and that we don't all work for them.

And, hey... every once in a while, we'd like to not feel completely ashamed of the decisions our Ass-Clown in Chief has made, and that every single moment of every day shouldn't be about covering your own ass. If you're doing the job right, it doesn't have to be.

And, I'd like Ass-Clown #1 & #2 to remember that we, as a nation, make a ton of babies. Seriously. Everybody I know is dropping a baby. And that... maybe... Maybe President Ass-Clown should know that what they do today and tomorrow is going to seriously jack with little Arden, little Isaac, and even little Nathan Jr. The shaking the babies and kissing hands bit doesn't have anything to do with what you're going to do when the chips are down.

Let me share a secret with you, Mr.'s Ass-Clown #1 & #2...

History is going to judge you.

Really.

No matter what you do today for whatever reason, history is going to be different from the spinning of media and the lobbing of sound bites. It's going to wait and see what happens, and then it will make up its mind whether or not you dropped the ball. Sure, there'll still be pundits in all sorts of camps, but the connect-the-dots picture is going to be hard to argue. History will have nothing better to do for a few hundred years after you croak than to pry open your coffin and dig through your sock drawer for the juicy bits. All those lawyers and press secretaries and secret service guys and whatever else you're up to... it's hard to maintain when you're pushing up daisies and trying to keep the centipedes off your nose.

Hindsight is 20/20. By what shakes out, by what happens eventually, that's how you'll be remembered. Nobody ever went into the White House with anything but the best of intentions. Nobody ever went in trying to leave the country weaker or poorer. Nobody ever went in wanting to leave the place worse off than when they arrived. History won't care what you said, but it will care what happened under your watch. It won't care about platitudes or espoused ideology, but it will care where we were four years after you started.

Now, why did you want that job again?

So, Loyal Leaguer Madi H. has hit us up with a proposal and a dilemma. Leaguers, it sounds like the League is finally going to do what it set out to do: Answer the questions which plague you.

- = ?

Madi's request came in this'a'way.

I want to post a poll on your blog. Specifically I would like any opinions on the following scenario: If a guy asks a woman out and does not pay, should she never go with him again, or give him another chance?

My brother, who is a notoriously cheap bastard, had this to say:

She should ditch him. He is either:

a) rude
b) clueless

Either one is not a good sign.

And I'm prone to agree! But, I recall a conversation I had with some co-ed classmates of mine in college who stated that: if a guy tried to pay, he was insinuating some control over the relationship already, and they would immediately ditch the poor sucker.

I pointed out that they were probably missing out on a lot of decent guys who feel it is polite to pay for someone else's good time when you request their company.

So, what is it, Leaguers? Pay, no pay? Should Madi forego love because the guy is a miser? What if he's just too progressive for his own good? What if he realized all too late he only had a 10-spot on him?

Having been with Mrs. League for the better part of a decade, I have no idea what the rules of dating are these days, and I certainly can't speak on how to maneuver out there in the post-college world. But I watch a lot of TV, and I think I know how these things work.

Anyway, pipe up and help a Leaguer out. Tell Madi what you think.

ROAR!!!


Bearing the same dazed expression Jill wore through high school, Arden Hermann-Wilmarth roars his way into Halloween.

Halloween Report:

Hello all.

I was Fat Green Lantern for Halloween. Upon reviewing photos of myself for this year's costume, next year I will stick with fat Elvis or Fat Albert or Fatty McFatterson. Or, the wife of Jack Sprat.

Anyway, here are some nice photos.



Jamie carved a delightful Kitty Pumpkin. Little girls were especially fond of this one.


I carved this pumpkin. It ended up looking like Stan's clone go wrong from the first season of South Park. It's a happy coincidence and I'm proud of my mutant creation.


Here is a rough idea of what our house looked like. We were going to sit on a beach towel, but this turned out to be a real hassle as kids kept expecting for us to get up to give them candy.


Here is Jamie in her bee costume. She takes a nice picture, that bee does.


Here is a pic of your blogger (who has never before published his own photo to the site, I might add), hanging with Mel. I am the one with the power ring.

I am happy to say we had dozens of visitors, all of whom were very sweet. We had one Superman, one Batman, about five Spider-Mans and a herd of ninjas, ghouls, witches, and Britney Federlines. Also, I am delighted to say many, many people identified me as GL, both parents and kids alike. I think the lady across the street thought I was sporting some demonic symbol until I told her I was "one of the Superfriends".

Hope you all had a Happy Halloween.

Now, it's Turkey Time.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!!

And a week that came in with Ashlee Simpson shall go out the same way...

Check out this photoshop contest.

thanks to Jim D. for bookending my week!

Our grand Prize Winner: Madalina Hinjosa, for telling a story both frightening and stomach churning

Halloween Spooky Stories: DAY 5, PART 2

by Madi

The Taco Bell Tolls For Thee

At first glance, there's nothing Halloweenish about this story- it's
set in Hawaii on a beautiful summer's evening. But my magical evening would be turned upside down in an instant of pure horror.

Before I went to Hawaii, I was told of the abundant delicious food I would sample everywhere I went. My mouth watered imagining fresh mangos, pineapple and coconuts. However, when I arrived I found that everything is hella expensive in Hawaii. Since I preferred to spend my money on souvenirs, I carefully rationed out grocery store fare and starved my way through the days. (I have to confess, I did toss a couple of baloney slices off the balcony to feed the feral cats that lived at the hotel). No worries, though; I was in Hawaii after all.

One night, I picked up a plate of nachos at a Mexican fast-food restaurant
on the island. I only ate a little, since they weren't very good.

Nevertheless I was unwilling to throw a morsel away. I put the leftovers in the trunk of the rental car so that I could get back to the shops nacho-free.

Later that evening, I opened the trunk and picked up the container AND COCKROACHES CAME POURING OUT!

For more great vintage Halloween cards, check out this story at RetroCrush.

HALLOWEEN SPOOKTACULAR STORIES
DAY 5

Editor's Note: Jason (The League's older and less handsome brother)sent in two entries. The first one is posted last, the second one is posted first is descending scariness.

First Stories

My current home in south Austin once belonged to an elderly lady who bestowed it upon her grandaughter in her will. When I was closing on the house at my realtor's office, we had a quiet moment during which I attempted to make some small talk with the woman selling the house.
"So, is there anything I should know about the house that no one's told me?"
I was kind of thinking of plumbing problems or faulty electrical work.
"Well, it's haunted."
"Uh, what?"
"My grandmother used to live there and she died in that house. She's a friendly ghost, but she likes to open and close things and make noises. We're trying to take her with us when we move, but we're not sure she'll go."
"Uh...."
"Oh, it's ok. She'll leave you alone as long as there are good vibes in the house."
"Ooookay."
I've been there almost a year and a half, and so far, no sign of Grandma. Friendly ghost or not, I think I'm kind of glad. Still, I try to keep things positive at mi casa in order to avoid hassles from Grannie.

I had more problems at my last place. To my knowledge, my apartment at the edge of Travis Heights had never suffered the death of a resident or any other calamity, but as with most apartments, the place had an anonymous history that could seem a little creepy in its own right. Especially because weird stuff would happen there.
On at least 3 occasions, as I was lying in bed and trying to get to sleep, I would swear I heard my name spoken aloud, not in a shout or a whisper, but in a quiet speaking voice. The first two times this happened, I lept out of bed and ran around the apartment with my lacrosse stick in my hand, turning on all the lights. No one was ever there.
The third time this happened, I just pulled my pillow up over my head and tried to get to sleep. I was roused from bed a few minutes later by the sound of Calvin and Hobbes, my 2 pet ferrets, going crazy in their cage. I crept into the other room, and something big and black swooped down at my head. I screamed like a little girl, and grabbing a wine bottle, turned on the kitchen lights.
In the vaulted upper corner of my living room, a large black grackle sat perched on a picture frame and staring down at me with it's little black eyes. It screeched and I screamed again.
I opened the front and the patio doors, and it cirlcled the room a few times, screeching some more and flapping before flying out.
I checked the fireplace, but the flue was closed and the firescreen shut. To this day, I have never figured out the deal with the voice or the bird. Tripped my gourd, though, let me assure you.

Second Story

Hey. I know some scary stories. Remember that time we were watching The Exorcist at like 3 a.m. and it was thundering and lightning outside and you went to look out the window because you thought you heard a noise and you saw your own reflection and you screamed like a little girl and you stumbled backward over Mom's lamp? Oh wait. That's more of a funny story.

How about the time you emailed me a photo of your ass? That was scary.

In all seriousness, I do have one. Eric, lead guitarist and vocalist for the Mono Ensemble, has a harrowing tale passed on by his wife, Stephanie. One rainy night in Austin, Stephanie woke from sleep believing that she had heard some kind of strange noise in their kitchen. She tried to wake Eric, to no avail, and she went to investigate herself. Finding nothing in the kitchen, she assumed that one of their pet cats had made the commotion and she went to the refrigerator to get herself a drink. Standing in the dark, the only light in the room cast by the light of the ice box, she heard a noise and turned to see a young, pale boy with hollow eyes and a white shirt standing by her counter. She screamed and turned to look as Eric came running into the kichen to see what was the matter. The kid was no longer there and Eric was left standing in the kitchen looking on, bewildered.

Stephanie learned the next day that a teenage kid who ran with some of their family friends had OD'ed the night before and died after breaking into a veterinary clinic to steal tranquilizers. The kid had died in his family's kitchen and had been wearing a white, button-down shirt.

One more cheap shot at Ashlee Simpson!
(courstesy of doug)

The new Ashlee Simpson iPod!

A while back, Jim D threatened to send me a crate of comics in the mail. I had begged him not to send anything as League HQ is even now working out an emergency plan to liquidate old comics which we know we will never read again (anyone want a run of Uncanny X-men from issue 160 - 300?). But th nonetheless, the box arrived last evening, and is filled with interesting stuff. The comics he sent along are a fascinating assortment, and all very new, so I'm surprised he wanted to dump them so quickly.

Most satisfying (and the only issue I had time to read) was that he'd sent along Astonishing X-Men in which Colossus returns.

Leaguers, I fairly much quit reading X-Men when they killed Colossus about six years ago, and if it weren't for the acid-trip, pop insanity of Grant Morrison's New X-Men (which managed to feel more like speculative fiction/ sci-fi than the usual soapy melodrama of the X-titles), I'd have never have picked up another issue. Well, now my favorite Russian comic character is back, and I have the issue to prove it. But this is Marvel comics, so it's entirely possible that Colossus is a clone or an alien replicant or something. But, I'm giving Petey the benefit of the doubt.

Anyway, thanks for mailing me what might have amounted to your garbage, old chum! You sent some great stuff along!

And in the: You can't make anybody happy category, the new batsuit for the Christian Bale starring Batman Begins is now being ridiculed by Batfans everywhere.

You know what, comic fans? Gray tights with blue underwear on the outside probably ISN'T the most effective crime fighting ensemble, so I'm not REALLY sure you're moaning about.

Anyway, here's the suit.



There are a lot of complaints that it's no better than the previous Batsuits, but I'm not sure there was really anything WRONG with the previous batsuits. Maybe the guys inside the suits, and the movies around the suit... and, sure... I'd have loved to have seen Batman in a gray body suit... but I also understand what looks good in comics might not look so good on film.

Let the debate begin! And, no bat-nipple comments. THose were already well-covered by the comic nerds.

Halloween Spookiness with The League: Day 4

by The League

In 2000 or so I literally saw an unidentified flying object. The guy I was with also saw it, but we wrote it off as a weather balloon.

But hauntings? Nah. Not really. When I was in second grade we thought a house which was for sale in the neighborhood was haunted. Back then, we would sneak into empty houses before they sold (yeah, even in Houston in Cypresswood back in the 80’s, not everyone locked every door), trudge around, and sneak out. We had rules about not doing any damage, and so we never got caught.

And I don’t know if someone saw something, or we heard something or what… but we knew something was in there. A week later we learned that there was a raccoon in the house which attacked a realtor. Which is funny, but not scary. And we’re all lucky we didn’t wind up with rabies.

After we moved from Houston to Austin, it was reported my dad (who was and is still alive) was appearing as an apparition in the kitchen of our former home. I’m a skeptic of this particular haunting. While we lived in that house, I don’t remember Dad ever appearing in the kitchen except to get a piece of cheese out of the fridge. No, if Dad was going to haunt something back then, it would have been the recliner. They would have seen a ghostly newspaper floating in the air, occasionally telling them to pipe down and clean up their Legos.

After that, I don’t remember much in the way of ghosts popping up in my life. Justin L. told me his front room was haunted by the ghost of a lady who had died there. Apparently she used to run her hands over her jewelry in a porcelain dish beside her bed. At night, he said, you could hear the sound of metal on porcelain, clinking around in the front room.

In college, like 3000 of my closest friends, I moved into Jester dormitory, the 14 story monstrosity designed by a former prison architect. Not long after moving in, I realized that Jester was/ is, in fact, alive. And it was trying to kill me.

Anyone who lived in Jester knows that the building is enormous. Just my tower was 14 floors of more than 90 residents per floor. Not to mention classrooms, a cafeteria, a creepy basement, study lounges, piano lounges…. The building has stood for only a few decades, but I think, and this is my theory, but I think that so much STUFF happens in Jester, that all of that… stuff… leaves a sort of residue. The building has come to expect the overworked, overstressed, oversexed, sleep deprived, emotionally distended lives of 18-20 year olds for so long that… you know… when the building sits empty like it did over OU weekend, that being alone in a building you can hear breathing…

Sounds would materialize and dissipate, occasionally you’d see someone you didn’t know pass by in the hallway and stick your head out and they’d be gone…. All easy enough to understand, I suppose.

And at 4:00am, I wandered out into the elevator lobby, hearing a strange, persistent sound, metal on metal… the elevator doors standing ajar, the elevator a floor below, and when I stuck my head down the shaft to see what was going on, the elevator suddenly plummeted in free fall, the doors to the shaft closing almost upon my head.

And then one night when everyone has left for Dallas for the big game or gone home, or has ditched for the weekend, you’re looking down the hallway, and you’re shouting “Is anyone else here?” because you think you hear music, but you can’t tell from where, but nobody answers. And there’s something in the hallway, and it’s already upon you, and it’s not that it’s creeping up on you, because now it’s surrounding you and seems to almost be giving off a tangible hum, and its density is growing, and…

Danny isn’t here Mrs. Torrence…

Aside from that, I don’t have any real ghost stories. I got attacked by the Creature from the Black Lagoon once, but that was more irritating than scary.

Halloween Entries, Day 3 Part B

child produced by Jill Hermann-Wilmarth




Arden gets pumped for Halloween. Check him OUT!!!! That kid is looking forward to a Tootsie Pop. Luckily, I believe he has no teeth to rot.

Haunted Tales of Halloween: Day 3

by: Maxwell


I generally try to avoid ghostly run-ins. I'm very
committed to the idea of not seeing a ghost, but
nonetheless I've had a few spooky experiences in my
time. My roommate and I were convinced that our
apartment in Austin was haunted even though we never
saw anything substantial. Once in a while I might
catch a fleeting glimpse out of the corner of my eye.
We didn't mention it, but sometimes people who stayed
with us picked up odd vibes. The apartment was
relatively new, in one of those complexes with a pool
over on Oltorf, not typical scary stuff, but for all
we knew someone had died in the place. The worst of
it was, no kidding, sitting and typing on my roommates
computer, I always felt like someone was behind me,
watching me. I cannot abide people reading over my
shoulder, so the constant spine tingling, hair
pricking at the back of my neck made it difficult to
get any homework done. There was a closet in her
room, and when you sat at the computer your back would
be to the closet. It felt like someone was waiting,
watching, always coming from the direction of the
closet. I wrote a couple of creepy plays at that
computer.

At the end of the day, we just tried to chalk that
unnerving feeling up to bad feng shui.

The only experience that I haven't been able to
explain away happened in the house I grew up in, right
in Cypresswood. Maybe all kids go through a time when
they think they're houses are haunted. We thought so,
even though our house was new. After Poltergeist
came out we speculated that perhaps the house was
built on a graveyard. In all honesty, there were
times when I would be upstairs in the room furthest
away from the stairs, and would feel the driving need
to get out, run NOW NOW NOW down the stairs to be with
people.

One particular night when I was about seven or so, I
woke up and couldn't get to sleep. I was getting over
a cold and I had been sleeping all day, and even
though it was now just past midnight I wasn't tired.
I was lying in bed with my back to the door. My
mother came in. I heard the door open and saw light
pour in from the hallway. I can't remember if I saw a
shadow. I felt my mother come and stand by the bed,
leaning over to turn on the light on my nightstand. I
turned over to say hello, complain that I couldn't
sleep, but no one was there.

I froze, immediately terrorized to paralysis. My
first thought was that I was dreaming, but a few quick
pinches confirmed that I wasn't. The light that had
not been on before was now on. The door to my room
was open. Then I thought, "Mom must have come in and
turned on the light, and I missed her." I didn't
move. I couldn't move. I just waited and waited
until finally I went back to sleep. The next morning
my light was still on. I looked to see if maybe it
could have turned itself on, but it had a dial switch,
the possibility of self illumination
didn't seem likely. I asked my mother if she had come
in the room to visit me, turned on my light. She
hadn't. I asked my dad, he hadn't. I asked my
brother. He hadn't, either. He was also four, not
yet capable of pulling a scary stunt.

Whatever the presence was, it didn't seem initally
frightening. Just terribly invisible. As far as I
know, it has never returned.

THANKS, SCIENCE!!!

Look, Jason! Now you can have a kitty cat of your very own!
-Mrs. League

AN S.O.S. for RHPT for his Day of Bliss

Last week, soon to be wed Leaguers RHPT and The Mysterious M, made a plea via rhpt.com

Randy, you see, would like some help selecting tunes for his impending wedding reception. I understand the music during the wedding is taken care of, so he's looking to fill the air at the reception with tunes.

Randy has made a plea to his readership, begging for some help in selecting mood-setting music, but unfortunately, Randy is learning what The League learned long ago. The readership of the average blog is made up of completely unhelpful bastards.

Now, despite the fact that Randy has been pouting in the corner and refusing to help out with The League's past few interactive bits, I thought I'd step up to the plate and see if I couldn't think of some tunes everyone can enjoy. I listed four songs, and it's now in Randy's hands to make his decisions.

But, here's the deal, Randy's bastard-filled readership has otherwise refused to comment. And I am certain some of those bastards are even going to be at the wedding.

Now, it's one thing to tell someone to stick it in their eye on a normal day, but when someone is asking for help with their wedding... Leaguers, you legally have no option but to help them. So pop on over to Randy's site and make a suggestion. And, no... don't make it gross.

THANKS, SCIENCE!!!

If you read this blog, you know that scientists work tirelessly to find new ways in which to play God and to create an unstoppable AI bent on the destruction of all human life.

It appears some eggheads have devised a quasi-artificial brain that sort of makes decisions and stuff. Which is interesting from a Blade Runner/ Isaac Asimov sort of standpoint, but terrifying from a Magnus, Robot Fighter perspective.

The only good side to this I can see is that pretty soon humanity will know it's fate as we all bow down to our robot masters. All hail UNIVAC, MIGHTY CONQUEROR!!!

(That's right! you heard it here first! The League was the first to get on board and officially recognize the evil cyborg intelligence as undisputed ruler of Planet Houston. We bow before your might, oh Great Univac! We ask only that you grant us your mercy and, if it befit you, that you may bestow upon us Lynda Carter, for which we promise to serve you well and carry out all of your malevolent wishes.)

The League must once again point out that it was The Beat which located this information first, and in a much more humorous manner.

If you want to know why I won't be posting for a few nights, it's because this just arrived.

My favorite new comic character I'd never heard of before last night? Captain Compass.