Freaky Friday (in which Our Hero is Assaulted)

I try not to get too autobiographical here. First, my life is pretty boring what with the wage earning, space exploration and crime fighting and all. Second, nobody should like talking about themselves that much. Blogging by its very nature should be enough self-indulgence for oneself.

But last Friday was a swell capper to the week. And all of this is true. I swear to God it is.

At 11:00 am, I attended my best friend's mother's funeral. I counted and this is only the third funeral I've ever had to go to. Clean living I guess.

A dinky little church out in the farmland of Michigan. You drive across bare, snow-covered fields and hope you don't have Bruce Springsteen's The River in the CD player of your car and a loaded gun in the trunk, because you'll kill yourself and won't make it.

Now I never met my buddy's Mom, so I was really going for him. Put in a quick appearance, sit in back, duck out early if no one is looking. No such luck. Old people sat behind us. Old people who sang loudly. Loudly and off-key.

And I know why people don't dig church. Music from the 6o's--the 1860's. A priest/minister/shaman who is completely out of touch. And bagpipes! They always like to go with the bagpipe at a funeral because only the deceased is spared from the caterwauling. And I can't hear Amazing Grace without thinking of Mr. Spock at the end of Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan and getting a little verklempt.

At lunch afterwards, Wife and I were commenting about the music. We were both trying to decide what we'd play at the funeral if the other one died. I was opting for Hate Myself for Loving You or Your Love is Like Bad Medicine. She was leaning toward Julie Brown's I Like Them Big and Stupid or Sympathy for the Devil by the Stones. You know...the classics.

After lunch, I got my annual physical. And because I'm 40 now, I got the complete physical. Yes, grab your cheeks and spread them, the Bareback Mountain, the welcome to Deliverance County physical. And what really twists me up, is that I didn't come back with any retort to the process. Granted this is completely unlikely. I just held on to that damn exam table and prayed for it to be over. What I should have said was one of the following:

• Doc, do I get to keep your watch?
• If you find my dignity, let me know.
• Usually I get dinner before I let someone do this.
• But can you clap?
• [singing] Fly me to the moo-ooo-oon.
• [as Morgan Freeman] That was the longest night of Andy Dufresne's life. Oh, Andy.

I'm sure there are others. At least my Doc is a woman and has small hands. Can't wait till next year.

Unanswered Questions

I slept like crap last night. I think it's because I have a lot of unanswered questions buzzing in my brain.

• Is this the best idea we can come up with to fight Avian flu?
• Will the merger of Pixar and Disney be called Dixar?
• Why does Google cooperate with the Chinese government on censorship but not the US government on search engine data? Is the US gov't more evil than the Chinese gov't? Did we run over some kids with tanks that I don't remember?
• Why couldn't it have been Sean Penn? Or even better Yoko Ono?
• Is it possible that Ron Artest and Terrell Owens could die in a lover's suicide pact?
• Will Celebrity Mammograms be green lighted as a summer replacement series?
• Is there a football game coming up? Because I'm not hearing enough about Jerome Bettis. And his Mom & Dad.
• Will someone pick up Arrested Development for crying out loud?
• If Brokeback Mountain featured female cowpokes, would it have won as many awards?
• If Oprah's feelings are hurt, does she not cash the checks?

Sorry about all the randomness lately. I just can't seem to stay on topic. But then there is no off position on the genius switch. Yeah, right.

Rocket Man

I still can't believe we don't have flying cars yet, but we have rocket bikes.

It's true. The geek over there strapped a 200 lb thrust rocket engine to his bike and can go from 0 to 60 mph in five seconds. And if case you were wondering, yes, it is rocket science.

Just think what that's going to do for New York bike courier services. Your Chinese food should never be cold again. I also think it would have improved the movie Quicksilver, but probably not Breaking Away as that was a more character driven vehicle. (Wow, was that pun smelly and a long way to go)

This should also make the next Summer X Games much more entertaining as we should be able to see 100 foot jumps and spectacular crashes. Yay!

Always In Threes

Shelley Winters, Wicked Wilson Pickett and now Chris Penn.

You're safe for now, Abe Vigoda.....

Alito Shuffle

They were showing some more "testimony" highlights as it appears Alito will make it out of Committee and head to the Senate floor for a confirmation vote. I must have been paralyzed or lost the remote control because I actually watched a bit. I know, I know, but then I like watching demolition derby too. And they're really the same thing.

The only thing I can come up with is that people (and by people I mean Assbag Senators) were too busy grandstanding and only asked softball questions that their staffers had prepared. Here were the questions I would have asked:

• How long should you let a dead woman's body remain underwater in your car before you call the police?
• When you cheat in law school and plagiarize someone else's writing, how do you feel it should impact your campaign for the presidency?
• What is the most expensive gift you've ever received illegally from a lobbyist?
• What is the most egregious amendment you've ever attached to an appropriation to make sure your home district gets to suckle from the public teat?
• Better Darrin: Dick York or Dick Sargent?
• Paper or Plastic?
• Have you ever had a real job not connected with politics that your family didn't get or create for you?
• Nude, All Nude or Totally Nude?
• How much income tax did you personally pay last year? How much did you really owe?
• When was the last time you had sex with an intern? Male or female?
• How many times can you cheat on your spouse but still run on a campaign of family values? How many divorces have you personally had? How many marriages or weddings have you broken up?
• Can you sleep while sitting up and wearing a dark robe?
• Do you think your job as a judge is to make history or pick the next Miss Universe?
• If you die and go to hell and have to cross the River Styx, will you row or wade?
• Have you ever knocked up your high school sweetheart and then needed a quickie abortion so you wouldn't have to get married and wind up working at a Shell station with your name on your uniform?
• Have you stopped making your wife cry during confirmation hearings?
• Who is the biggest assbag you've ever met in Washington, DC? Not including Dan Snyder.

Man this had such potential. It's a shame a few bad apples have to ruin a good time for everyone.

Dangerously Hot Crotches

According to someone in Chicago, wearing corduroy pants with vertical piping can result in DANGEROUSLY HOT CROTCHES.

As I've recently been playing Guitar Hero and trying to pick a name for my band, this really hits home. Historically, the name for my band (not that I ever had one or would ever have one) was T-Bag T2ed and the Bag 'O Tricks. Yes, this is a bag joke about tea-bagging. This mythical band name is immediately being retired and replaced with Dangerously Hot Crotches.

I don't know why that phrase sounds so perfect to me. It's like some primal calling. It's bouncing around in my head--Dangerously Hot Crotches, Dangerously Hot Crotches, Dangerously Hot Crotches.

Also, I'm figuring that all searches for Dangerously Hot Crotches will now come here directly because I've used the phrase Dangerously Hot Crotches more times than a used car commercial. C'mon down to Dangerously Hot Crotches because we've got the most Dangerously Hot Crotches in the tri-state region! If you can't find the Dangerously Hot Crotch you're looking for on our Dangerously Hot Crotch lot, I'll give you a free cap that says "I Can't Find a Dangerously Hot Crotch."

But seriously, no one should be wearing cords regardless of their Dangerously Hot Crotch fixation.

And Then Depression Set In

According to some mathematician, today, January 23rd as the most depressing day of the year. It's psuedo-science kids, so it must be true. And it's on the interweb. That makes it doubly true.

Here's the formula: 1/8W+(D-d)3/8xTQMxNA I'm sure that's crystal clear now, eh?

That equation is supposed to factor in weather (W), debt (D from maxed out Christmas bills that finally arrive in January), subtracting your monthly salary (d) from all that debt, time (T meaning post Xmas blues and failing at your New Year's Resolutions), not quitting a bad habit (Q), low motivation (M) and the need to do something (NA). Oh and it's on a Monday because I don't like Mondays.

And I think some of the surveying may have been done in Denver and North Carolina.

So with all that depression likely hitting everyone today, here's what you can do. Get a little comfort food (I'm opting for macaroni & cheese), kick off your shoes and let the following Random Monday Musings take hold of your brain.

• I'm betting that Jennifer Aniston got good and drunk last weekend.
• Now that they fixed baseball, Congress is going to tackle coal mines.
• Osama Bin Laden's tape translated to "You're doing a heck of a job, Bushie. Oh, and death to America."
• You just know the Super Bowl is going to be a blowout too.
• Now that Wilson Pickett and Shelley Winters are dead, can Abe Vigoda be far behind?
• Would you attend Brokeback Mountain if you could wear assless chaps and throw yogurt?
• To coach the Lions, does your name have to start with an M?
• Will Michael Jackson's first attraction be named Mr. Toad's Pantless Ride?
• E hiring Isaac Mizrahi for the red carpet because you wanted something "surprising" was a great move. You sure couldn't get that with Kathy Griffin.
• If I pretended to be gay, could I grope Scarlett Johansson?

That's it. I'm tapped out, kids. Be strong...at least for the rest of the day.

That's No Dead Man's Chest

According to the Tampa Bay Times, a pornographic movie featuring a pirate theme was filmed on the HMS Bounty while it was at the St. Peterburg pier. Knowing that sex sells, the Times has a whole feature called Porn at the Pier. The owner of the boat claims he was lied to and not told that the movie would be pornographic. Yeah, and I thought all those hot girls were topless because they liked me.

The name of the movie is simply Pirates, which isn't very creative no matter how much effort you put into the film production. And I thought they always went with something a lot more clever when they ripped off commercial titles for the porn version. I still remember seeing the title "Hannah Does Her Three Sisters" somewhere and laughing out loud. So if you're going to rip off Pirates of the Caribbean, you've got to do better than just Pirates. May I suggest the following: (and you knew we were headed her didn't you?)

• Cap'n Jack Does More Than Swallow
• That's Not a Peg Leg
• Second Mate
• Shiver Me Other Timber
• Blow the Man Up & Down
• Open That Chest
• An STD is not a Pirate's Curse
• Cabin Girl
• Ship Shape
• Gunner's Mate
• Thrust, Parry and Thrust Again
• Curse of the Black Girl
• Mutiny on Her Bounty
• Swimming With Bowlegged Women
• Yo, Ho, Oh My God!

Feel free to submit your own, kids.

Technology Is King

I'm not sure why, but this is the funniest thing I've seen in a long time.


You can play along too, kids.

Red Carpet Moments

I'll admit to watching the Golden Globes last Monday. Especially when Drew Barrymore was on. And it was so lame on tv that despite the power of TIVO, we were sucked in to some of the red carpet shows.

But did anyone see Scarlet Johansson get felt up by the gay guy on ETV? I completely missed this but was doing a lot of flipping, cursing, and more flipping. Did this really happen?

And Ryan Secrest hosting reminded me of my new favorite joke courtesy of David Letterman.

Which of these things is not like the other?
a) a drill
b) a hammer
c) a screwdriver
d) Ryan Secrest

Answer: It's a trick question. They're all tools.

This Train Announcement is Brought to you by the Letter O

If you're lucky enough to be riding the train in Melbourne, Australia, enjoy it while it lasts. Because local authorities are cracking down on your sexy conductor.

A "husky-voiced" woman is commandeering the public address system and engaging in some x-rated bawdy talk. Passengers on the train were not amused. Especially those with kids. But then it is the land down under.

Quote of the Story: "There was a woman on the address system. It was very graphic about how she was going to have sex with a driver for about three minutes."

Funny, I think that's what it would say if the male driver was describing it. I think the quotee means she described her sexual activities for about three minutes and not that she wanted it to last three minutes. You never know, it was rush hour and people have to get off at their stop.

Apparently the PA break-in's are become more frequent and longer. But then isn't that really the goal? Doesn't everyone want it more frequently and longer?

I think they just ought to try to get her to announce the stations. At least that way someone will finally listen to the announcements. Tell me the next stop. Sloooowly.

This is a great new opportunity for the Connex who operates the metropolitan train system to seize the day and go with a whole new branding campaign. Here are my twisted ideas:

• Love Train
• The Little Engine That Will
• Trains Entering Tunnels Again and Again
• Get Off on Our Train
• Do the Tube
• There is no I in Conductor But There Is U
• Hop On, Hop Off
• $1.95 per minute
• Great Rides
• We Put the X in Train X-ings
• Our Tennis Isn't the only thing that's Open

Feel free to submit you own, kids. And if you think I'm not going to use their feedback form to submit these ideas, you don't know me very well.

This Game is Killing Me

I'm still worn out from last weekend's football games. I'll admit to having a financial incentive toward a game or two. But you'll never take me alive, Copper.

During the Steelers-Colts game when Jerome Bettis fumbled at the 2 yard line, I'll admit that I screamed "OH MY GOD" at the top of my lungs.

Glad the wife wasn't in the house then or I'd have been scolded big time. When I yell loud enough that the neighbors can hear it, she gets embarrassed. Especially when it's things like, "TACKLE HIS DICK," "RUN, FUCKER, RUN" and "CRACKER, PLEASE." I'm sure the neighbors think I'm nuts. That's why I always tell them it's my wife who yells during games. Just kidding, honey. Kinda.

Anyway, this guy actually had a heart attack when Bettis fumbled. It's gotta be true. It's on the interweb.

I don't think that's so amazing. We have people who try to watch the Detroit Lions play every year die. Of course, it's usually one of the coaches. Coordinators, Head Coaches, Scouts are among the usual fatalities after a year of Lions football such as it is.

Try not to get this involved in cheering for the game kids. Like Jerry Seinfeld said, "You're just cheering for laundry."

My City Was Gone and Replaced by Shopping Malls

It just gets crazier and crazier in Ohio.

This headline is not made up: Woman Has To Get 6 Stitches After Hit With Sex Toy

Apparently, Excell Bradley threw what is described as a "large" sex toy across the room hitting a woman who required six stiches in her eye.

As is typical in cases like this, it's shoddy, lazy journalism. Many unanswered questions remain:

How big is "large?" Over two feet? Having never owned a sex toy (large or otherwise), give me some perspective here.

What kind of toy was it? Was it, ahem, "in motion" when thrown? I don't consider myself naive, but was it a dildo or a vibrator? Cause that's about all I know.

Why was this large sex toy in the room and was it the cause of the argument? I'm doing a lot of guessing here, but if you're throwing a large sex toy "across the room," it's not too difficult to postulate that it might be the cause of the argument. Know what I'm saying, Angry Inch? The woman might have expressed a preference to which Excell did not take well. This could be a complete red herring though. They may have just been fighting and he just grabbed the closest item at hand. Which still probably belonged in a drawer or otherwise out of sight.

Was Excell named after a Windows application? I'm guessing his parents were big accounting fans.

Is Excell being charged with assault with a dead weapon? Maybe Viagra next time Excell.

Was the eye or face the intended target of the large sex toy projectile? Was Excell trying to hit her in the face. Cause this is kind of what got Clinton into trouble. Never go for the facial.

Have police seized the large sex toy as evidence? Or are they just seizing the toy and giggling? How exactly do you tag an evidentiary item like that? String? Glue? Bag it? You just know this is going to wind up on CSI Everywhere next week.

If some of these Ohio journalists just applied themselves, the Pulitzer would be a lock.

Cause I'm Wanted, Dead or Alive

My Pop's goal is to talk to everyone in America. Be glad he doesn't travel internationally.

Every winter my Mom & Pop go to Southern California to annoy a whole new set of people. I swear this story is true.

They're grocery shopping in SoCal. By shopping, I mean my Mom is inside doing all the work (from a list and with coupons of course) while Pop is sitting outside on a bench enjoying the sun. A down on his luck type sits on the bench next to my Dad. After a bit, the following conversation begins.

"You look like Jesse James," says the homeless man.

"He's dead you know," says Dad who looks nothing at all like Jesse James. Unless Jesse James always wore a windbreaker, a baseball cap and had his hands in the back pockets of his jeans and usually frequented hardware stores.

"No really, you do." Long pause. "Jesse, loan me 50 cents." This is not, in fact, a question.

"What do you need 50 cents for?" says Dad/Jesse.

"I'm going to go buy a hamburger over at that McDonald's."

"Hang on. I only have a quarter," says Dad/Jesse. Mom's always kept Dad on a short leash because of his propensity to talk to strangers.

"That's okay. I'm halfway there then." Homeless guy leaves and departs in the general direction of McDonald's while Dad continues to wait for Mom. Mom finally finishes shopping and both head to the car to put away the groceries.

From across the parking lot someone begins yelling, "Jesse, Jesse, wait!" It's Homeless Guy (post burger) running toward my Dad. "God Bless you, Jesse." He then begins to take off his sweatshirt. "You have to take this. You did me a solid and now I'm returning the favor." Dad protests, but winds up taking the sweat shirt.

Yes, my Dad takes clothing from the homeless!

Later at their condo, Mom washes the sweatshirt and then gives it to my sister-in-law when she complains she's cold. No mention is ever made of how they obtained the sweatshirt from the homeless person. Sis in law loves that sweatshirt by the way.

Why do I live far away from my parents? Now you know.

The Same Old Song and Dance

A little known secret about t2ed is that I loves me musical theatre. I guess it's proof that I'm in touch with my inner homo. I don't know why, but music + plays + comedy = hilarity in my brain. I probably don't go to the theater but once a year, but I think comedy musicals are even funnier than the collective musical stylings of William Shatner. It's the same way with musical comics like Henry Phillips or Paul and Storm or Stephen Lynch. This may harken back my school days. I used to have season tickets to the Southern Arizona Light Opera Company and would take a date or three creating the illusion that I was someone who laughed at something other than dick and/or fart jokes.

Please do not consider this a blanket endorsement of all musical theater. I saw Les Miserable and thought that must be a reference to the audience. After Phantom, I whined, "Why couldn't that damn chandelier have dropped on him a lot earlier?" If it's not a musical comedy, I want no part of it.

Wife and I recently had the good fortune to attend a road show of Spamalot. Now if you're not fortunate enough to live within short distance of either Noo Yawk or Vegas, it's also touring. And it's good. Really good even if you don't get Tim Curry, Hank Azaria or David Hyde Pierce. If you've seen the movie, it's got all the best scenes. And if you've not scene the movie, you really need to get out more and probably shouldn't be reading this anyway. Go to Netflix right now and put it in your queue.

Even if you haven't seen the movie, you'll still like the show. It skewers all the Broadway conventions like woeful overacting and Andrew Lloyd Weber and songs that are too long with endless key changes and even more overacting the inspirational Big Song that's designed to win the Tony. That Eric Idle and John Du Prez are funny cats.

For proof of just how good Spamalot is, I offer this story. After we saw the show the week before Christmas, Wife and I acauired the cast recording for each other. Now that's either a really bad Gift of the Magi rip off or it shows just how good it is.

Or how brain damaged we both are. I'm still trying to work that one out. Luckily I can listen to the show to soothe my savage beast even when I skip my meds.

Alito's Waiting For Another Go

Unless you're in a cave, all the news is about the Supreme Court confirmation hearings currently ongoing in the Senate Judiciary Committee for Judge Alito.

Man, it's great to see Senators posturing that they really understand the law and proposed judiciary candidates express opinions, if pressed relentlessly, that yes, they do prefer some movies more than others. It's all a big Us v. Them. Unfortunately, it's never that simple.

But I like to play a little game. Anytime anyone mentions the term "Alito" you have to break out into "Whoa-oh-oh-oh. He's for the money, he's for the show. Lido's a-waitin' for another go." Yup, that's supposed to be Boz Skaggs' "Lido Shuffle."

It's the only way I've found to get people to shut up about this.

Don't Sit on Uncle Ted's Lap to Drive

Hello, Kids. Welcome to the show today. And we've got a special guest, Senator Ted Kennedy and his ginormous head. Just set your drink down over there, Senator.

Uncle Ted is writing a children's book. I wonder if it's under the nom de plume Dr. Souse?

The book is not about the dangers of drinking and driving, but instead is about a day in the life of a Senator. from the viewpoint of Ted's Portuguese Water Dog, Splash. Let's slow down a bit here.

First, try to wrap your brain around the fact that Ted owns a Portuguese Water Dog. Second, he named the dog Splash. Is that the sound an 1967 Oldsmobile Delmont 88 makes when it goes off a bridge? I guess Splash was better than Chappaquiddick.

The book not only follows the Senator but also shows how a bill becomes a law. I'm guessing it won't show any pork barreling, sneaky amendment tactics, filibustering, smoky room meetings or lobbyists. That's how a bill really becomes a law.

My Senator and Me won't come out until May, so you'll have to wait a bit to read it. But I think this opens up a whole new world to Uncle Ted. I can't wait for some of his sequels.

• Are You My Lobbyist?
• Where the Drunk Things Are (usually at the Kennedy Compound)
• One Fish, Two Fish, Drunk Fish, You Fish
• Oh the Bribes That You'll Take
• Green Eggs & Convenient Media Distractions
• And to Think That I Leaked It on Mulberry Street
• Go, Bitch, Go
• Elmo's First Filibuster
• Curious George and the Man with the Big Yellow Checkbook
• The Cat in the Gerrymandered Redistrict
• Profiles in Socialism

Isn't it scary that I know all those kids' books yet don't have demonspawn on my own? I was a reader as a kid. I promise.

Share your own ideas for Ted's next book. The winner gets a prize. You have to fact check Uncle Ted's book and you have to ride with him to his first book signing.

Lou is Third, but She's a Brick House

These things happen in threes and I don't have any control over it. Quasi-celebrities always pull a troika in their demises. Not all at once, but they tend to clump. No one can explain it and no one can contain it. Please no wagering.

But I swear I didn't mean to kill Lou Rawls. I mean, he was one of the Louisiana Gator Boys in Blues Brothers 2000 for crying out loud.

And just our luck, he beat Dick Cheney to the hospital. Curses!

Apparently Cheney was admitted to the hospital for shortness of breath. Probably from blowing all those poor little pigs houses down. Not the brick house, he just wiretapped that one.

Get Back to Where You Once Belong

Dave Barry did an awesome column called "A Year on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown" for the Washington Post. A warning though, the WAPO requires registration. You bastards!

And while it's very funny, he also reminded me how stupid 2005 really was.

Now I hate those retrospective Year in Review pieces that everyone does. They're hacky and unoriginal. So one more isn't really going to hurt you. Mostly writers just do it because they're out of ideas and phoning it in over the holidaze. So you know this isn't like that. Unfortunately I've got way too many ideas (in fact 2006 is the Year of Bad Ideas for me) and I was here during the holiday. Check those December posts, I wasn't slacking off. Ideas like the Chia Groin don't just come every day. Well, actually, stupid stuff like that does.

Here's a short list, however, of stupid news stories I had completely blocked out of my mind in an effort to cope with the stupidity of the mainstream media:

• Donald Trump marrying (Mrs. Trophy Supermodel Trump according to Dave)
• The Gates in Central Park by Christo
• Robert Blake walking from murder charges
• Michelle Jackson walking from molestation charges
• Jennifer Wilbanks (the Runaway Bride) and her freaky eyes walking away from her wedding
• Terry Schiavo not walking away from anything for a very long time
• Dan Rather walking away from CBS News
• Natalee Holloway walking away from her tour guide in Aruba
• Martha Stewart finally walks away from jail

All shit I never cared about. Okay, so I was briefly interested in the Martha Story. But only so she could be on Dave again.

What will be the first media distraction invented for 2006? Only time will tell.

I Can't Believe It's Not Margarine

If you want to see the 800 pound butter sculpture, you'd better get to Pennsylvania Farm Show Complex before it warms up and starts oozing. Otherwise, you can see it all online.

That's just one swell picture from the extravaganza. There are lots more.

Now where can I get an 1200 pound potato and a big ass lobster?

I wonder how the artist of this particular exhibit chose to work in the butter medium? I thought stone too mundane for the nuance of a milk cart. So I went with butter.

I may have to try something on my own this weekend. I'm not sure whether my art will be expressed with mashed potatoes, macaroni & glue or glitter.

Happy arts & crafts weekend, kids.

Long Beautiful Hair

As I was waiting for the Rose Bowl to start, the phone rang. Without thinking and figuring it was probably my Dad calling to make a bet with me, I picked up. This is contrary to my very nature, but should indicate how National Championship Fever and the run up/orgy of football over the past week had me.

"Hello?"

"Hi, this is Heather from Childen without Hair."

"Heather, you're calling during the Rose Bowl."

"The Rose Bowl? Is that now?"

"Heather, take me off your list and buy those kids a hat." Click.

Wife: "Who was that?"

Me: "Children Without Hair. Apparently we've fixed everything but follicles."

Now I don't know if this is a legitimate charity. It certainly sounds like a scam to me. But I'm guessing Heather's night didn't get any better with her other calls.

And I was so amazed that someone called before the start of the game that I forgot my favorite line -- I only donate to cheerleader car washes.

Rah Rah.

You Know I Can't Dance

Wow, didn't think I'd be quoting Leo Sayer anytime this year. And Leo, "international acclaimed singer songwriter entertainer?" *choke* That's bullshit. I thought you were dead. At least your career.

Which brings us to these folks from Dancing With the Stars:

Lisa Rinna: Never heard of you.
George Hamilton: Zorro the Gay Blade and Love at First Bite. You're more famous for being famous than you really are in terms of famousity.
Giselle Fernandez: Another blank. Who?
P. Miller (aka Master P): Some rapper. What he sang, I have no idea.
Tia Carrere: From Wayne's World to this? How the mightly have fallen.
Kenny Mayne: He's always been pretty funny on ESPN. I'm hoping he thinks this is just a big goof. A gig's a gig and rent is rent after all.
Tatum O'Neal: The only more tragic figure than Tia. She won an Academy Award for god's sake. I hope papa Ryan is really embarrassed. Participation may just be a desperate ploy to get work again.
Jerry Rice: You're going to take shit at every 49er's reunion for the rest of your life.
Stacy Keibler: Another blank. Seriously, who are these people? This isn't even the D List. Was Kathy Griffin not available? Because she'll say yes to anything.
Drew Lachey: When they're having to introduce you as Nick's brother, that's a pretty good indication you're no one.

I swear this list should be followed by "And Lo, the Seventh Seal Opened and armageddon was upon us.

Don't watch this shit, people. If you watch crap like this, they put it on again. Read a book. Talk to a loved one. Go buy a TIVO so you can watch whatever you want, whenever you want. Just say "HELL NO" to this kind of crap.

Hollywood is derivative. There are no new ideas. We're already getting skating because of the dancing. I can't believe that Celebrity Colonoscopy is far away. Oh, wait, Katie Couric already did that. Maybe Celebrity Mammograms. I'm sure Fox is working on that. And with boobies, you know it'll be a hit.

Nuts About Safe Sex

A man in Silt, Colorado, has reportedly found a bright yellow condom inside of a hazelnut. He purchased the mixed nuts from Wal-Mart. Gee, I'd have figured Wal-Mart to be prolife.

Anyway, it appears to be an actual nut and not a plastic one. No one can see how there was any tampering with the nut. And I think we all know how painful that can be.

They're not pursuing any legal claim against either Wal-Mart or the nut distributor, Diamond Foods. So you know it's not a Wendy's chili hoax claim here.

Quote of the story: "I don't think a judge would give any money for a condom in a nut." Our protagonist is clearly inexperienced in the ways of our judicial system. I'm guessing that she's already had an ambulance chaser call her though.

As always, there are unanswered questions here. Man, I can't stand sloppy journalism.

Someone actually eats hazelnuts? I thought those were just the leftover, crappy nuts that got tossed along with the Filberts.

How cheap are you that you're buying mixed nuts out of the bulk bin at Wal-Mart? Anything could be in there.

Did you use the condom? That's like an omen. Maybe it's a magic condom and if the wife rubs it, it'll grant wishes. Or at least one wish maybe. That'd be a great prank to pull on your squeeze when you want some. It could be like your own little code. "The condom is in the nut. Repeat, the condom is in the nut."

Wouldn't you like to have "Nut Supplier" on your business card? Man, that's even better than "Utility Infielder" or "Lord of all I survey."

Does this mean you get to graze in the bulk food bins at Wal-Mart and eat whatever you want while your shopping? I'd be pushing for something free from the store at least. Maybe free nuts from Diamond Foods. And I'd pushing for all cashews not some crappy nut mix. Mixed nuts, like Mixed Fruit jelly, is just the leftovers. If you eat that crap, you're crazy.

What brand of condom was it? Seriously, how many manufacturers of bright yellow condoms can there be out there? A little dedication for crying out loud.

Lohan Jive, Everybody Lohan Jive

Lindsay Lohan has been hospitalized.

Her people are saying it's because she broke a blood vessel in her neck after an asthma attack at a New Year's Eve party. Apparently, Herbie wasn't the only thing "fully loaded" last year.

Bullshit. It's because she finally ate a sandwich. A cocaine sandwich at that. I wish I could take credit for that, but I owe it all to Ernie. Remember, it's not stealing if you give credit or attribute or footnote. Isn't that right, Mr. Biden?

What other possible spurious injury rationales could they come up with for LL?

• voodoo
• brain freeze from rapid Slurpee consumption
• nailgun prank gone awry
• od from Bolivian Marching Powder
• scanner target
• vampire attack

And if you don't get the article title, think Grease. The key to any good joke is having to 'splain it. Now I've totally got "Hand Jive" stuck in my head. Damn.

Flipper Over

In Jerusalem, a lady recently married a dolphin. Yes, you read that correctly. She married a dolphin. Not a Miami Dolphin, but an an actual aquatic mammal.

Sharon Tendler married Cindy in a modest ceremony at the Dolphin Reeef in Southern Israel.

Now I don't want to get off on a rant here about interspecies mating, but if the dolphin is male, why is he named Cindy? Is that an Israeli thing?

Quote of the story: It's not a perverted thing. I do love this dolphin. He's the love of my life.

I'm sure no one could see a story about a woman marrying a dolphin and think it's a perverted thing. No one was even thinking about that. I'm amazed you even thought to bring it up.

You know this won't work out. She lives in London while he's in a tank in Israel. I wonder if he married her just to get a green card. Does England have green cards? Well, he married her to get whatever the English equivalent to our green card is.

And does he get to be her beneficiary? If there's a suspicious fish accident and she winds up dead, you know Cindy is going to be the prime suspect. It's always the spouse. I can just see on Israel CSI, where the main character yells right into the camera, "This was no boating accident!"

The story doesn't say anything about their honeymoon. I'm sure he wanted to go swimming and play. She was probably sad that he didn't want to cuddle and talk about their feelings. She probably also didn't appreciate the fish breath.

I didn't realize we were so far behind Israel. We don't even have gay marriage and they have interspecies marriage. You just know this will lead to some guy wanting to marry his truck... or beer.

Medina CSI

Meat Bandit Nabbed in Golf Cart

Yes, I wish that headline wasn't true, but the craziness in Ohio continues.

If you're near Medina, Ohio, you'd better keep your meat locked up. Apparently, Samuel Dottore stole a frozen roast and was making his getaway back to Cleveland.

He had met a couple in a bar and they went to their home. After a few hours, they were driving him to a motel when "he pulled out the frozen meat." Now, I'm not sure who edited this story, but they've left out some pretty obvious questions.

Why'd the couple take this guy back to their house? Yard work, threesome, more cocktails, possible fondue?
What did they do for a few hours? Any of my guesses of above might fit the scenario.
Where did he pull the frozen meat from? This may be nixing the whole threesome theory.

Anyway, the couple decided to just drop Big Sam off by the side of the road. This seems to point that something odd happened. If you're giving someone a ride and you suddenly decide, "That's it. Ride's over," something odd has obviously transpired. I'm guessing it went a little something like "Want to see my frozen meat?" And when he pulls something out of his coat, it's all "We gotta run."

After being ejected from his ride, Sam decides to steal a golf cart and drive 40 miles from Medina to Cleveland. Now I don't know this for a fact as the story doesn't talk about what time it is, but I'm guessing these events transpire at night. If you're cocktailing it at the bar, meet a couple and then go to their house for a few hours, amd then steal a golf cart, it's probably not early afternoon. I'm guessing this whole caper has the cover of darkness going for it.

So Sam is trying to drive 40 miles at night. Now I don't know if you've ever been to Ohio at night in December, but it is not a balmy clime. This may, however, explain how Sam's meat has remained frozen. Needless to say, a golf cart does not make a good getaway ride and Sam got pinched by the police.

The Quote of the Story: In court, Dottore told the judge he'd been drinking that day, and that alcohol mixed with the psychiatric medication he takes affects his judgment.

This may be a bit of an understatement. And by drinking "that day," Sam meant every day.

Wow, there's a lot going on there. The good news is that Sam is free on bail and is available for your parties! Please try not to serve roast beast, but if you do, keep an eye on Sam around the buffet table.