THE OMAHOLIC

Warren Buffet Seen Wiping Mouth With B-Share Berkshire Stock

noreply@blogger.com (Flimsy Lament) — Fri, 28 Dec 2007 17:46:00 +0000

At Gorat's Steakhouse

Rapper Pimp C found dead in L.A. hotel

noreply@blogger.com (Flimsy Lament) — Wed, 05 Dec 2007 14:06:00 +0000

Rapper's Untimely Death Raises Questions: Chiefly Among Them - Who The Hell Was Pimp C?

Idiot Hostage Fucks America

noreply@blogger.com (Flimsy Lament) — Sat, 01 Dec 2007 03:18:00 +0000

Imbecile New Hampshire Hostage's Inability To Recogonize Common Road Side Flare and Duct Tape Lead To Prolonged Clinton Campaign Headquarters Bomb Scare Hostage Bullshit Day In America. (Ed. Note - He had a flare taped to his body with duct tape you fucking idiot --- what part looked like a scary bomb?)

Worm Riot

noreply@blogger.com (Flimsy Lament) — Fri, 30 Nov 2007 20:27:00 +0000

"Cum On Feel The Embalming Fluid"

Quiet Riot Singer Dead At 52, Body Catches Up with Career

New Vegas Slogan

noreply@blogger.com (Flimsy Lament) — Fri, 30 Nov 2007 20:26:00 +0000

Our friend Hack Jandey reports his findings from a recent trip to Vegas:

Succumbing to allegations of false advertising, the Las Vegas board of tourism has added a disclaimer to its current slogan.
What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas except for bankruptcy, liver damage, and sexually transmitted diseases. They go home with you.

The Sweet Smell of Freedom

noreply@blogger.com (Flimsy Lament) — Fri, 30 Nov 2007 20:08:00 +0000

Hello All -

Been a while I know. I also know that my P.O. wasn't fooling when she said I had to let her know when I was leaving the state per the conditions of my parole. Imagine my chagrin when I found that she too likes the penny slots at them river boats. I honest to God believed the boats were in Nebraska. Fear not, my time 'away' was spent acquainting myself with a map and I shall not make that mistake again. My new geographical knowledge will prevent any more slip-ups -- that and my new court ordered ankle bracelet.

Ok, on to the mail bag. Long time Omaholic reader and new correspondent Hack Jandey writes:

An interesting topic came up last night when I was chatting with some friends. It involved the timeless question of picking up your date, should you arrive early or late? One person was of the philosophy you should show up a little late just in case she is running late. I countered with; you should show up at the correct time and then proceed to walk the perimeter of house, peeking in all the windows to determine if she is ready.

According to the others this not the correct approach.

I then made my second suggestion that you pull up at the correct time and honk your horn, if she doesn’t come out she is probably not ready. At this point you should drive to the nearest 7/11 and buy one of those single cans of beer that are often served in a brown paper bag. Drive back to the house and sit in the car, drink your beer, and wait politely. Once you’re finished with the beer, you should honk your horn again to see if she is ready.

Apparently that’s no good either.

'Brownie Dispatched To California, U.S. Closer to Armageddon

noreply@blogger.com (Flimsy Lament) — Tue, 23 Oct 2007 16:58:00 +0000

'You're doing a heck of a job Brownie'

Here's Something Gay

noreply@blogger.com (Flimsy Lament) — Fri, 19 Oct 2007 00:48:00 +0000

You know what really seems gay to me? When a guy kisses another guy. That’s gay, boy.

Flim On Sitcoms

noreply@blogger.com (Flimsy Lament) — Fri, 19 Oct 2007 00:47:00 +0000

Sitcoms, I believe, are the Conrad Bain of our existence.

More Flimsy Wisdom

noreply@blogger.com (Flimsy Lament) — Fri, 19 Oct 2007 00:44:00 +0000

I think it was Helen Keller who once famously said 'Talk to the hand cause the head ain’t listenin.'

Flim Waxes Existential

noreply@blogger.com (Flimsy Lament) — Fri, 19 Oct 2007 00:39:00 +0000

Sometimes I have existential thoughts like where did the soul go of the guy who I just hit with my car. And other times I just crack another beer and don't give the damn thing another thought.

UNL Athletic Director Fired

noreply@blogger.com (Flimsy Lament) — Tue, 16 Oct 2007 01:30:00 +0000

You heard it here last......Steve Pedersen fired as UNL's Athletic Director (yawn).

How The Huskers Losing Can Benefit Omaha

noreply@blogger.com (Flimsy Lament) — Wed, 10 Oct 2007 13:31:00 +0000

You'll not find too many sports related musings in this space however with the recent dust up over the Husker loss to Missouri and the proposed demolition of Rosenblatt stadium in favor of building a new one downtown I offer the following solution: A 2% bitching tax on all football complaints. Each second of complaining about football is equal to one dollar. If you bitch for one minute you are taxed on $60 at 2% for a total of $1.20. Please mail $1.20 to Mayor Mike Fahey. If the bitching occurs on a Monday morning and disrupts coworkers in your office, the tax doubles. This professional infraction is equivalent to speeding in a construction zone -- the fine doubles. I predict if we implement this program the funds for a new baseball stadium will be raised by Thanksgiving and construction shall be completed by St. Patty's Day. And I would have no problem being honored for this accomplishment. I ask for no money though. Only that I see these words in 25 foot lettering: Flimsy Lament Stadium.

My Greatest Fear Realized: I Need My Appendix

noreply@blogger.com (Flimsy Lament) — Sat, 06 Oct 2007 16:41:00 +0000

Well, ol Flim here again mulling over a recent story published by Duke University Medical School. Seems I need my appendix after all. Well, thanks UNMC for taking it out 3 years ago and flushing it down the 'useless' organ drain. At the time I admit I asked them to do it. After 9 hours in excruciating pain I finally dismissed my original diagnosis of intestinal distress due to suspect sweet and sour chicken from the Rice Bowl and headed to the emergency room. I was asked to rate my pain by the admitting nurse on a scale of 1 to 10. 1 being a level of pain equivalent to dinner at your in-laws and 10 being a level of pain equivalent to working at Aureus Medical in Omaha, NE. I rated my pain at 50 at which point they administered a Pete Doherty dose of morphine. I immediately vomited causing some consternation on the part of the nurse who was tasked with cleaning it up. I believe I heard at this point the nurse griping ' Four years of schooling for this shit...." I also heard angels singing so what I recall during this part of my stay can't be stated as fact. I was after all high at this point. Later, in pre-op I was administered an anesthetic via gas mask. No vomiting this time. I started to fade as the nurse said Mr. Lament we will of course be putting in a catheter. 'Where does that go," I asked. 'In your penis.' Oh, I said. Then everything went black but not before I heard a couple nurses giggling. I'm guessing this is when said catheter was being inserted. Well, anyway that's all I got today. Sure hope I don't read tomorrow I need my liver for anything.

Dispatch from Phoenix: Woman Dies Cuffed in Cell

noreply@blogger.com (Flimsy Lament) — Wed, 03 Oct 2007 13:34:00 +0000

PHOENIX, ARIZONA (Reuters) - A woman died after being placed in an airport holding cell in Phoenix, Arizona. Phoenix authorities are investigating the possibility that Carol Ann Gotbaum choked herself to death while struggling to get free from her handcuffs. She leaves behind 3 young kids and her luggage.

Into The Wild

noreply@blogger.com (Flimsy Lament) — Tue, 02 Oct 2007 21:42:00 +0000

I just finished reading the best seller Into The Wild by Jon Krakauer, the true story of
a wealthy college grad who renounces money and possessions to live off the land. His odyssey leads him to the wilds of the Alaska bush where he befriends an Alaskan Bear who ultimately stabs him in the back and eats him. (I actually haven't read the last chapter so I'm not sure how he dies. Death by vicious Bear mauling seems the most likely conclusion.)
Anyway, I couldn't help but notice the parallels between the protagonist Chris McCandless and myself. In the summer of '82 my folks and I departed Omaha for a week long adventure in the Black Hills, SD. One evening as the sun dipped down below the mighty tree line and the sky turned an inky black I became disoriented and lost my way back to our cabin. Suddenly a tiny red pulsating light grabbed my attention. I moved toward the light cautiously. It was my dad -- dragging on a Merit Light. Turns out I had been circling the same fir tree over and over for seven minutes...all the while I was but 15 feet from our cabin. Man -1, Nature - 0.

Hal Daub's Campaign Script

noreply@blogger.com (Flimsy Lament) — Tue, 02 Oct 2007 15:21:00 +0000

Hal Daub: "Washington is broke and we need someone to fix it....that is why fellow Nebraskans I am committed to running for U.S. Senate and changing this flawed system."

SFX: Phone Ringing

Hal Daub: Hello?

Washington D.C.: We're not sending you any money.

SFX: Phone hanging up.

Hal Daub: "....and that is why fellow Nebraskans I am not committed to running for U.S. Senate."

Your Questions Answered

noreply@blogger.com (Flimsy Lament) — Sun, 30 Sep 2007 15:48:00 +0000

Dear Flim,

Are the Great Lakes really dissappearing?

Ralph Steadman, Marquette, MI

Dear Ralph,

No, they are not.

-F.L.

Dear Mr. LaMent,

Do you have that $151.67 you owe us?

-Omaha Public Power District

Dear OPPD,

I do have the $151.67 I owe you, but as I explained in my last correspondence I will remit payment as soon as you turn my power back on. This stalemate can go on indefinitely, the question is, can you?

-F.L.

Dear Son,

I fear your time spent blogging might be put to better use such as visiting me and your father or even getting a job. We spent a lot of our hard earned money settling the 'suit' so that you might start anew but you seem hellbent on living this fantasy life where responsibility and healthy social connections are things to be ignored, even despised. I'm worried about you Flimsy and I want you to come home for a while. I'll say a prayer for you tonight and if your father regains consciousness I'll tell him you're thinking about paying him a visit.

Love,

Mom

Dear Mom,

This section of my blog is called 'Your Questions Answered' not 'Your Sniveling Bullshit Posted'. No question, ergo No Answer.

-F.L.

Ernest Detritus Rest In Peace

noreply@blogger.com (Flimsy Lament) — Sun, 26 Aug 2007 03:08:00 +0000

Ernest Detritus (January 1 , 1972 - August 24, 2007) was guitarist and singer with the Omaha-based band Infinite Lamentations.
Born in Odebolt near Wall Lake in Iowa, Detritus moved to Omaha in the late 1980s and became a backing singer with the Benson-based indie band, Bad Butter.
He met I.F. founder Flimsy Lament when Bad Butter played with his band and soon joined I.F. as a second vocalist in 1992. He also played jewish lip harp, as well as percussion and keyboards, and occasionally sang lead vocals.
In 2000 Detritus teamed up with Tekamah space rock group, FarmKraft to form Schema Seed. Schema featured vocals and instrumentals in approximately equal measure, adding some synthesizer. An eponymous maxi-EP/mini-album was released in 2000 on avant-garde Nan-See Guard Ner imprint, 6 State Street Domestic Dispute.
Detritus was struck by a truck and killed while riding his Vespa in the Dundee area of Omaha, NE August 24, 2007. He was 35-years-old.

Conversation About HBO

noreply@blogger.com (Flimsy Lament) — Sun, 19 Aug 2007 21:44:00 +0000

There’s this new show coming out on HBO, have we talked about it?

No

God, I can’t remember what it’s about but the idea is one of those ‘of course, this will make a great television show why didn't I think about it!’ and now I can’t remember what it’s about. I want to say about a high school kid and the crap you go through in high school. I can’t even remember why I can’t remember it. It's good though. Maybe I dreamed it.

Either way it sounds good. I’m looking forward to it.

Me too. Damn it, what is it about? You haven’t seen any previews have you?

No.

Well, let me know if you do….when you see it you’ll know.

Ok. You heard John From Cincinnati was canceled.

NO!

* * *

Privately I thought no show about high school and all the tribulations one faces is something I want to watch. I hope my co-worker dreamed the thing up. I went though it myself after all…to watch this show and laugh about those crazy times would not be a truthful thing to do. I don’t look back fondly on those times. I wasn’t necessarily one of those picked on or marginalized by the student body, nor was I the successful athlete who everyone knew and admired. I occupied a hazy space in between the two extremes….the slightly below average athlete clique. No band. No thespian club. No future business leaders of America. Not a pot smoker. Not a skateboarder. Just a poor athlete. Small, underdeveloped, young for my grade.
Though I had no inclination to participate in the school plays I secretly admired the thespians who seemed to walk and sing loudly and laugh and move carefree down the hallways in between classes. Completely uninhibited. Maybe only the good thespians behaved this way, the confident ones like the star athletes. But I doubt it. I don’t think the talented actors preyed on the weaker ones like the kids in sports did. Who knows? Years later I heard a handful of these thespians chose to become gay.

Anyway, I remember one occasion when I was the butt of the joke, the picked on kid. I wore a button down brown short sleeve shirt that my mom got from who knows where. Stitched on the pocket was the word ‘Excellent’. I don’t know why. Maybe it was the brand of shirt, maybe it wasn’t. A handful of kids during the lunch hour noticed my shirt and took me to task. ‘Hey Flimsy, you sure look Excellent today.’ ‘Excellent shirt Flimsy’
This got big laughs. Then somehow the word ‘Excellent’ took on a different pronunciation and a special voice was applied to it when said. It’s hard to describe…but it sounded like a Hispanic who didn’t pronounce the last two letters nt. Excella….
Are you excella today Flimsy? Great. This lasted about 20 minutes. Here I am 17 years later recalling it. Why? Also, I never wore that shirt again. One of the kids who joked that day was recently arrested for a domestic dispute I heard.

A good show for HBO would be about a bully who grows up and his kids end up being the ones getting picked on in school. It is only then he learns the error of his ways. But what happens after he learns his lesson? Maybe he becomes an inspirational speaker that takes him on the road 300 days out of the year. Another ironic thing is that he misses his kids growing up because he’s on the road so much. When the last one graduates from high school it is only then he learns the error of his career choice. At that point he decides he can still be the father his kids never had by becoming a janitor at their school, the University of Nebraska Omaha. Don’t think of me as your dad, I’m just the janitor at your school. At first this unnerves his 3 kids but eventually they start treating him like shit just like every other student at the university. They discard half drank chocolate milk shakes at his feet right after he’s finished sweeping and waxing a long hallway. The kids walk away laughing then a single tear falls down the janitor’s face. It is only then the man realizes his kids have finally accepted him as their janitor. Here’s the catch. He’s crying tears of joy. Completely unexpected, huh?

Latest Post

noreply@blogger.com (Flimsy Lament) — Sat, 18 Aug 2007 19:20:00 +0000

All Weather Is Dangerous

noreply@blogger.com (Flimsy Lament) — Sat, 18 Aug 2007 18:59:00 +0000

Just a quick thank you to Omaha's KMTV weather team for their nightly First Warning Weather reports. Before this technology sunshine and a slight breeze could sneek up on you like a panda bear sizing up its eucalyptic prey. My hat is off to you dear prognosticators, I shall retreat into thy basement and await further instruction.

Chubb's Meat Bundles

noreply@blogger.com (Flimsy Lament) — Sat, 11 Aug 2007 16:11:00 +0000

Hi Gang -

Glad to be back from my trip to Leez-i-ana (that's Louisiana to you and me.) I am aware of my families decision to post my correspondence over the last few months but fear not for I am hardly embarassed. Fact being, along with Guinness, Ambien CR, and the 10PM re-run of Law & Order -- knowing my spectacular public failures might help someone else allows me to sleep soundly at night.

Now on to matters of the mail. Besides the predictable, tiresome rants of greedy corporate America and certain public utility companies ("You owe us blah, blah, blah" "Last notice blah, blah" "To restore your power please remit blah.), I received a curious blue direct mail advertisement from an Omaha business I've not yet had the pleasure of establishing credit with. Chubb's Meat Bundles located at 16th and Locust Omaha, NE. Chubb's as the ad states was recently Voted Best In Omaha. A notable accomplishment no doubt, however it is unclear who exactly voted them number 1. Nor does it say what category they achieved this ranking. I presume the 'Meat Category' but one cannot be too careful -- I shall report my findings upon my visit this afternoon should 16th and Locust be located along a major bus route.

Some specials of note: Farmland Pork Featherbones 10 lb Box $8.90, , Ruper's Sparerib Strips 10 lb Box $11.90, Popcorn Chicken 10lb Bag $8.90 (Frozen Ready For Frying), Our Family Pop 12 Pack Cans 3/$5 and Trend Laundry Detergent 100 ox Ctns 2/$4. (You will notice this last item gives further creedence to the importance of answering said Category question.)

That's all from your buddy Flim -- we're expecting 100 degree weather in Omaha today and I need to get to inflating the ol pool. Maybe I'll see you at Chubb's...till then.

Requiem for Flim

noreply@blogger.com (Flimsy Lament) — Sat, 28 Jul 2007 17:46:00 +0000

(reprinted here by Flimsy's family)

Dear Friends and Family,

I am writing to you from the Mansfield, LA county jail. Having used my one phone call to reach my bank for reasons I choose not to discuss with you at this time, I am reduced to using this antiquated form of communique. I only pray we still have horses around to deliver this note and it reaches you in the 3-6 month time period guaranteed.
Incidentally, my plan to withdraw five dollar bills for a profit was a resounding success! My undoing later came not at the hand of some sharp, weekend reading bank snoop but as fate would have it, by my own hand. I beat the bank, but I could not beat myself. I consider this a win.
A miscalculation in fuel costs, lodging expenses, and the location of Louisiana dented the seed money required to achieve the optimum profits of said plan. After my 2700 miles journey I was left with $47.25 in my checking account. Once at the ATM I had read about, I was able to make nine $5 withdrawls. This multiplied by the banking error netted me a profit of $135 in cash and left me with $2.25 in my checking account. In principle I had won! In reality I could not control my boiling self hatred. A sharp gas station cashier picked up on my shrieking and interpreted this as a sign of trouble. She called local authorities.
I would ask you to wire the $150 bail money to my checking account, but alas, it has been closed by the bank for not retaining the minimum balance of $5. A cheap shot by the bank, but well played I must admit.
If your busy summer schedule allows for some time to come get me I would be most grateful. As summers go I certainly understand if you cannot. At the very least I submit to you a request for more stamps. The 70 stamps I was allotted have already been used to contact future employers that I will be unavailable for interviews indefinitely. As a matter of corporate policy my resume is on file with hundreds of companies and will notify me if something else comes open that would be a better fit for me. No further correspondence is necessary Mr. Lament. We will contact you. Fine, but I'm sending you my new address in Mansfield and letting you know I can only communicate through the Pony Express.

Hope to hear from y'all (I'm already picking up the local parlance) soon!

-Flim

Money for Nothing

noreply@blogger.com (Flimsy Lament) — Sat, 28 Jul 2007 17:18:00 +0000

(reprinted here by Flimsy's family)

Dear Friends and Family,

By the time you read this I shall be in Mansfield, LA where according to a story on CNN.com this morning an ATM machine is mistakenly giving out twenty dollar bills instead of fives. I shall arrive unheeded to hatch my plan so long as a bank employee doesn't read CNN.com The probability is low I have concluded, as bankers tend to relax on weekends after the grind of a long week of 'banker's hours.' Reading the internets is not relaxing, so far as I can tell, but as evidenced today can provide a wealth of information to the entrepreneurial minded.
And yes, I have wrestled with the latent immorality of such an act and have concluded there is none. At first blush it seems the bank is sure to lose money but like the stock market a banking transaction is a risky proposition entered into willingly by both parties, the bank and the customer. The outcome is never certain. A customer may write a check for $62.45 at Louis Liquor Emporium in Omaha last week only to discover later such funds were not in an account. A common oversight, right? Yes, I would say. But no, the bank has charged me a $25 insufficient check charge. Bank wins again. Or for example a customer swipes his Visa check card only to hear 'I'm sorry sir this card was declined.' Really? I said. This transaction is a draw. No one wins, no one loses. The bank is happy, and the customer satiated as he had already drank half of the Bud tall boy while waiting in line.
In short I will continue this little dance between man and the banking system. Only this time were gonna tussle Bayou style. I shall ask for a five dollar bill and the bank, if it accepts the challenge, will give me a five. That is all I ask for. Should I end up with something else, well welcome back to the roller coaster world of high finance, bank!
See you soon!

-Flimsy