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The Capitol Garage
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Wednesday, Apr 26, 2017
[Wednesdays @ 8:30 pm]
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Underrated-ish
Dumbledork

I was pleasantly surprised to see a question about Black-ish this week. I rarely hear anyone talk about it, which is a damn shame. It’s one of the only shows I know that regularly examines issues of race and class, and it does so with style. And we’re not just talking about black and white. As the name of the show implies, it often explores what it means to be black in contemporary America, and sometimes, what it means to be “not black enough.” For those unfamiliar with it, the show revolves around the Johnson family. Dre’s the patriarch, an advertising executive, and Bow, the matriarch, is an anesthesiologist. “Bow” is short for “Rainbow,”
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My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize. He would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds...pretty standard, really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum; it's breathtaking. I suggest you try it.


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The Capitol Garage
1500 K Street
Sacramento, CA
95814
Wednesday, Apr 19, 2017
[Wednesdays @ 8:30 pm]
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You Can't Vaccinate Stupid
Dumbledork

This week’s quiz featured an audio round on celebrity conspiracy theorists, and it wouldn’t have been complete without Jenny McCarthy spouting off about vaccines. America should be held in high esteem for its emphasis on free speech—as should any country with an analogous law—but there’s a downside to it: bigots, shysters, and morons are free to express themselves to any- and everyone. Jenny McCarthy and all her anti-vaxxer buddies are the avatar(d)s of this downside. I get it, dude. They want to be crunchy and righteous. They want to make sure their family uses biodegradable cutlery, uses all-natural ant-shit deodorant, and eats nothing but free-range,
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My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize. He would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds...pretty standard, really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum; it's breathtaking. I suggest you try it.


  • Quiz Image
The Capitol Garage
1500 K Street
Sacramento, CA
95814
Wednesday, Apr 12, 2017
[Wednesdays @ 8:30 pm]
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Eight Things I Hate About U...S.A.
Dumbledork

This week’s Round One featured three hints on states. We named three things from a state—two good and one bad—and you told us what state we were talking about. We left it to you to decide which one the bad thing was, but I figured I’d throw in my two cents. —Deep dish pizza: I’ll take “Reasons Why Midwesterners Are Fat” for $1000, Alex. It is an abomination. It is not pizza. It is a meat and cheese pie, and, despite the fact that I love meat, cheese, and pie, I want nothing to do with them when they're combined. —I guess the Eagles is the popular answer? I think half the people who say they hate them just do so because
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My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize. He would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds...pretty standard, really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum; it's breathtaking. I suggest you try it.


  • Quiz Image
The Capitol Garage
1500 K Street
Sacramento, CA
95814
Wednesday, Apr 05, 2017
[Wednesdays @ 8:30 pm]
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Damned If You Do, Extinct If You Don't
Dumbledork

We had a round on zoos this week, which I always loved as a kid. I’ve pretty much always found animals more interesting than people, so trips to the zoo were a treat for me. It wasn’t until I hit adulthood that I realized the murky morality of zoos. On the one hand, zoos provide people with an opportunity to learn. Getting the chance to see animals from distant lands can be inspiring; it certainly was for me. And since they’re so often located in big cities, they might be the best chance some residents have to experience something other than a jungle of the concrete variety. Add to that the fact that they can provide a safe place for endangered animals (unless the
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My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize. He would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds...pretty standard, really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum; it's breathtaking. I suggest you try it.


  • Quiz Image
The Capitol Garage
1500 K Street
Sacramento, CA
95814
Wednesday, Mar 29, 2017
[Wednesdays @ 8:30 pm]
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Daddy Needs a New Pair of Shoes!
Dumbledork

This week’s Round 1 was on gambling terms, which got the ol’ gambling juices flowing. I need a trip to Vegas! And a large bankroll. That last part’s important. My gambling vices are mainly confined to blackjack and craps. Both games provide just about the best odds you’re going to get in a casino. I like blackjack because it’s simple, and there’s a logic to it so your fate isn’t left entirely up to chance. And since there are usually $5 tables around, you can play for low stakes. My fondest blackjack memory is of playing after Geek Bowl IX. Some quizmasters and I worked Geek Bowl, hit the afterparty for a while, then proceeded
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My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize. He would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds...pretty standard, really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum; it's breathtaking. I suggest you try it.


  • Quiz Image
The Capitol Garage
1500 K Street
Sacramento, CA
95814
Wednesday, Mar 22, 2017
[Wednesdays @ 8:30 pm]
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Doctor—Wait, What?
Dumbledork

This week’s visual round was on characters that have come back from the dead, and, among others, featured the Doctor of Doctor Who fame. A total nerd might ask, “Do the Doctor’s regenerations count as a return from the dead?” Well, my friends, I’m totally nerdy enough to dig into this topic, so let’s unpack this, shall we? The geeks at the TARDIS Data Core say that regeneration happens due to severe illness, old age/fatigue, injury, or even by choice. Is there a moment of sweet release between each incarnation? It’s unclear. But three of those four are scenarios in which someone who would otherwise be dead is suddenly fit as a fiddle.
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My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize. He would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds...pretty standard, really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum; it's breathtaking. I suggest you try it.


  • Quiz Image
The Capitol Garage
1500 K Street
Sacramento, CA
95814
Wednesday, Mar 15, 2017
[Wednesdays @ 8:30 pm]
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Eff Cancer!
Dumbledork

This week’s quiz was a Quiz For a Cause benefitting the Relay For Life in Elk Grove. Folks disagree about a lot these days, but I think it’s safe to say that we can all agree that “Cancer bad!” As such, “Helping fight cancer good!” The math’s pretty simple. Thanks to everyone who donated this week, and a big thanks to our winning team for donating their winnings back to the Relay. Classy move, guys. Good luck to everyone participating in the Relay. I hope you had fun visiting our quiz!   Track List: Rancid – Listed M.I.A. Led Zeppelin – Rock & Roll The
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My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize. He would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds...pretty standard, really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum; it's breathtaking. I suggest you try it.


  • Quiz Image
The Capitol Garage
1500 K Street
Sacramento, CA
95814
Wednesday, Mar 08, 2017
[Wednesdays @ 8:30 pm]
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Death To Disney!
Dumbledork

Thar’s a gay in that thar movie! Yes, people are up in arms over the fact that Disney’s new live-action Beauty & the Beast has a gay character. Seems like a weird thing to get upset about, considering the movie basically revolves around bestiality. Then again, I imagine many of the people upset about this aren’t averse to the occasional bit of goat fucking, so there’s bound to be a little cognitive dissonance in their lives. Nevertheless, I figured I’d take a look back at some Disney movies and see what else people have missed the opportunity to get butthurt about. Seems odd that they didn’t make a stink about: —Snow White
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My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize. He would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds...pretty standard, really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum; it's breathtaking. I suggest you try it.


  • Quiz Image
The Capitol Garage
1500 K Street
Sacramento, CA
95814
Wednesday, Mar 01, 2017
[Wednesdays @ 8:30 pm]
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Let Me Help You With That, Darlin'
Dumbledork

Ah, the past. It was a silly place, wasn’t it? As we learned this week, women were long excluded from distance running, for fear of their uteruses (uteri?) just plopping right out of them. I’m not a biologist, but my firsthand experiences have taught me that our bodies are generally pretty good at keeping our insides from becoming our outsides. Nevertheless, the “weaker sex” has traditionally been excluded from a number of activities. For instance: Women were discouraged from swimming in the same waters as men, especially along the coasts. Apparently there were concerns of seamen impregnating them (wink). Another Olympic ban saw women excluded
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My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize. He would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds...pretty standard, really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum; it's breathtaking. I suggest you try it.


  • Quiz Image
The Capitol Garage
1500 K Street
Sacramento, CA
95814
Wednesday, Feb 22, 2017
[Wednesdays @ 8:30 pm]
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A Good Day To Live Free or Die Harder With a Vengeance
Dumbledork

Die Hard was featured in one of our audio rounds this week, much to my delight. With Bruce Willis as the curmudgeonly everyman hero, Alan Rickman as the slick Euro villain, and a plot full of action, intrigue, and a smattering of comedy to spice things up (“I'm Agent Johnson, this is Special Agent Johnson. No relation.”), it’s hard to top this action classic. Sure, it’s a little long at just over 130 minutes, but what scenes would you cut? I suppose you could axe the entire subplot with William Atherton’s slimeball reporter and have Rickman’s “A-ha!”
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My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize. He would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds...pretty standard, really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum; it's breathtaking. I suggest you try it.


  • Quiz Image
The Capitol Garage
1500 K Street
Sacramento, CA
95814
Wednesday, Feb 15, 2017
[Wednesdays @ 8:30 pm]
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Hope He Had an Epidural
Dumbledork

Otis Redding’s “Try a Little Tenderness” was featured in this week’s Round 2, which I enjoyed thoroughly. He’s probably best known for “(Sittin’ On) The Dock of the Bay,” which is also good, but “Try a Little Tenderness” is my jam. Definitely my favorite Redding song. The best part about his singing is his delivery, and I do mean “delivery.” When he really gets into it, he does this screamy-growly kinda thing, as if he’s birthing the words rather than singing them. This vocal attribute’s up front and center in this track, especially toward
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My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize. He would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds...pretty standard, really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum; it's breathtaking. I suggest you try it.


  • Quiz Image
The Capitol Garage
1500 K Street
Sacramento, CA
95814
Wednesday, Feb 08, 2017
[Wednesdays @ 8:30 pm]
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I Hear They're Relocating To Purgatory
Dumbledork

This week’s quiz had a question about Charles Haley, which got me thinking about the glory days of the 49ers. I’m old enough to remember that sublime stretch of time, the years of Bill Walsh and George Seifert, Joe Montana and Steve Young, Jerry Rice and Brent Jones. And presiding over it all, Eddie DeBartolo Jr. Those were the days, young whippersnappers. Thirteen division titles in 17 seasons. Five conference championships and five Super Bowl wins in that same span. They were dominant. Always in the hunt. A team to be feared. And then the Dark Days descended upon us. DeBartolo was out, and the Yorks moved in. True, DeBartolo’s last season was the first losing
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My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize. He would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds...pretty standard, really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum; it's breathtaking. I suggest you try it.


  • Quiz Image
The Capitol Garage
1500 K Street
Sacramento, CA
95814
Wednesday, Feb 01, 2017
[Wednesdays @ 8:30 pm]
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Reality Bites
Dumbledork

This week’s quiz had a question about David Harbour’s speech at the SAG Awards. It’s gotten quite a bit of attention, but mostly because of the bizarre mugging of Winona Ryder, which is a shame. While acknowledging that there are issues far more important than his show and its award, he asserted that he and his fellow entertainers can influence the world for the better. It was a nice change of pace from the doom and gloom going ‘round these days. If it’s worth anything at all, art imitates life. Subtly or overtly, it can shine a light on what it means to be alive, whether it’s via macroscopic
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My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize. He would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds...pretty standard, really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum; it's breathtaking. I suggest you try it.


  • Quiz Image
The Capitol Garage
1500 K Street
Sacramento, CA
95814
Wednesday, Jan 25, 2017
[Wednesdays @ 8:30 pm]
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Furpocalypse Now
Dumbledork

Our visual round this week was on endangered animals. I could talk about how sad that is, and how humanity’s shitty and self-absorbed and shortsighted, but that’d be a real downer, right? So instead, here are some reasons why these animals deserve extinction. Chimps: I’ve seen enough Planet of the Apes movies to know that they’re getting what they deserve. There will be no ape uprising in this reality, thank you very much. Española giant tortoises: I don’t trust anything that takes its home with it everywhere it goes. They’re like the Gypsies of the animal kingdom, and
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My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize. He would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds...pretty standard, really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum; it's breathtaking. I suggest you try it.


  • Quiz Image
The Capitol Garage
1500 K Street
Sacramento, CA
95814
Wednesday, Jan 18, 2017
[Wednesdays @ 8:30 pm]
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You Can Call Her Queen Bee
Dumbledork

This week we learned that Salt-N-Pepa performed “Push It” at Nelson Mandela’s 70th birthday tribute. I have to admit that when I think “Nelson Mandela” the words “push it real good!” don’t spring immediately to mind. Well, they didn’t before this, anyway. He was still imprisoned at the time, and I’m sure the idea was to raise awareness about apartheid in general and Mandela in particular, so the biggest and brightest stars of the day were recruited for the concert. After all, who better to raise awareness about a dire situation than musical superstars? It worked for “We Are the World,” right? But unlike
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My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize. He would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds...pretty standard, really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum; it's breathtaking. I suggest you try it.


  • Quiz Image
The Capitol Garage
1500 K Street
Sacramento, CA
95814
Wednesday, Jan 11, 2017
[Wednesdays @ 8:30 pm]
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Ooooooo, Navy Seals!
Dumbledork

There are a couple of reasons why there’s a special place in my heart for Clerks. First, it came out while I was in high school, and it was unlike anything my friends and I had ever seen. Edgy in all the right ways (“In a row?!”), full of quotable material (“Did he say ‘Making fuck’?”)…hell, it even had a friggin’ involved conversation about the moral implications of blowing up the Death Star. Teenage mind = blown. As time wore on, the movie took on new meaning as I found myself in the customer service industry. There’s nothing like working at a customer service desk to make you realize how much of humanity walks
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My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize. He would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds...pretty standard, really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum; it's breathtaking. I suggest you try it.