Friday, December 28, 2007

Big Brass Ones

Dear NFL Network:

Thank you for finally capitulating and letting us have the Patriots-Giants game this Saturday. Yes, it's a travesty that the mean, old cable operators won't let us have the NFL Network in our basic sports tier as you insist. And just because you only have 8, now 7 actual football games this year is no reason to diminish the value of the channel you provide. Since the NFL is so popular and successful, you certainly should have the right to tell other people how to run their business.

It's tough to know which side to hate more in this one: the greedheads at the NFL or the greedheads at the cable company. It's like if the Nazi's took on the Terrorists in a war. Who would you root for? Probably the Red Cross to do a really poor job on the wounded.

But seriously, guys. Taking out a full page ad in the USA Today today entitled NFL Network - Putting Fans First really takes some cojones. That's almost as good as Microsoft's popup blocker that I had to turn on to block all the Microsoft ads. Create a problem, then act like a hero when you solve it. That's marketing genius, kids.

If the NFL Notwork really wanted to put fans first, they wouldn't make us endure Bryant Gumbel's lame attempt at calling a game. Bryant Gumbel, a guy so hated even his mother and brother don't like him.

Friday, December 21, 2007

Come Together, Right Now

Okay, not exactly right now.

But tomorrow, Friday, at 6:08 GMT, you're supposed to have an orgasm. Yes, World Orgasm Day is supposed to "effect positive change in the energy field of the Earth through input of the largest possible instantaneous surge of human biological, mental and spiritual energy." Unfortunately, that's 1:08 for this soon to be ex Midwestern boy. I'm probably be stacking z's in my memory foam mattress unless the Wife and I can sneak in a nap.

Why do I think this is just a couple of horny frat boys? According to Fox News (and they're never wrong, Global Orgasm is the brain child of Donna Sheehan and Paul Reffell, co-founders of the anti-war organization Baring Witness, a group of activists who strip to make public peace displays with their naked bodies.

I guess I'm a little hazy about how being naked or having orgasms helps world peace. But let's not let a lot of facts or logic get in the way of a good publicity stunt. That was "stunt" by the way. Maybe you can't hold a gun if your hands are shaking?

And in case there's not enough pressure on reaching orgasm together, you've got to time it for a particular minute. Leave plenty of time for foreplay and cuddling afterwards in the dark, kids. Oh, and don't forget the guilt.

If I'm going to have a pick a movement, I'm getting behind the Swedish Women who are fighting for the right to go topless. Much like Lafayette helped the Americans during the Revolutionary War, it's time for us to send our topless women to Swedend to help our sisters-in-arms (and out of bra's) to find their freedom. Because if women aren't able to expose themselves at football matches, the terrorists have won.

Thursday, December 20, 2007

Robot Elvis Lives

Because I was too lazy to put a link in it, people thought I was joking about Robot Elvis. And Sharper Image has marked it down! Can you believe that the Robot Elvis is a slow mover during the holiday time? Nothing says romance like a robot.

Watch this and tell me it doesn't freak you out.

And it's eventually going to turn on you and try to kill you if you don't feed it narcotics and peanut butter 'n nanner sandwiches every day. And can you use an air hose to slowly make him get fatter like he did in real life? It's going to be even better when I make him sing nothing but show tunes. Or Funkytown.

I'm going to loop that and play it on every LCD TV in my house constantly. Yes, it'll be Graceland West when I get to SLC, baby.

At least it's better than all that damn bell ringing.

And I wasn't kidding about the vibrating soap either.

Festivus for the Rest of Us

In between all the organ-removal procedures to get the new Shaque D'Amour, I've been doing very little Xmas shopping. No, that's not just because of the restraining order from the Salvation Army bell. And yesterday they had 2 ringers at the store. Curses.

But I do have some ideas for last minute holiday gifts.

1) Uruguay steaks: seriously, I had no idea steaks came from anywhere other than Omaha, but it's true. Every time you hear a chain saw start, someone in Uruguay is getting a steak. Oh, and they'll donate a box of steaks to the Daily Bread Food Bank if you enter "dailybread" when you check out. I'm not making this up. I just hope the Uruguayan Steak folks don't email me as much as the Omaha fools.

2) Robot Elvis: Only $250 at Sharper Image. If there's anything that says I have too much personal disposable income than an Elvis robot, I don't know what it is.

3) Vibrating Soap: This was gone in less than 2 weeks last year, so I'll have to get a bigger supply.

4) Joo-Ry: I don't know why but women-folk loves sparkly, shiny stuff as much as men like breasts. Don't try to figure it out, just go with it. And in the words of every porn star actress, "Oh, no. They can never be too big."

5) Fruit Cake: The ultimate Xmas prank. It's actually made just by wiping off everything on the counter into the cake batter. Bless you, Jim Gaffigan. Also doubles as a door stop or blunt instrument to assault your in-laws with for staying too long at the holidays. Only give this to people you hate.

6) Booze: Yes, the ultimate gift for people you don't really know but want to appear to be nice to. Nothing says thank you for not going postal on me or wiping you ass on my mail like a nice bottle of hooch for the mailman. Because he's barely got time to read all the mail much less deliver it.

7) Gift Cards: Really, you're confining me to one store? Just give me the cash instead. Yes, like joory, it can never be too big. You may also wish to drop into casual conversation that one time tax-free gifts of $12,500 are now permitted under the tax code when you're sharing that holiday prayer with your parents. That's both subtle and classy.

8) McDonald's Gift Certificates. This is even worse than the gift card. Make sure you write Loser in large red letters on the card. Do they still do the certificate? Or is it the Arch Card now to give the illusion you have a credit card?

9) Clothing: Seriously, don't do this for a man. You're giving us an errand. We're just going to return it and you can't ever get the credit applied to smokes or porn. Extra bonus points for the wrong size, wrong color and extra-itchiness. Not even close.

10) Anything from a gas station. Unfortunately not everyone has your discriminating palate for jalapeno turkey jerky.

Good luck kids. You'll need it.

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Little Known Utah Facts

In my effort to acclimate to my new state (no, not inebriation, but Utah), I've been doing a lot of interweb research. And because I read it on the interwebs, you know it must be true. Here are the top 10 Little Known Facts About Utah.

10) If you only have one wife, people will think you are gay.
9) Utah was founded by two explorers, Utah Smith and Manhattan Young who misinterpreted a verse in the Old Testament and went to discover the colony of New Sodom.
8) Utah has a very diverse population and welcomes people of all colors be they white, pale, off-white or Irish.
7) The entire electric grid of Utah is so energy efficient that it can be run from one single lithium battery.
6) Utah's State Bird is the seagull (in Latin rattus wingus). The State Bird of Michigan remains the middle finger.
5) If you have eight wives, that means there are 8 separate "How was your day?" conversations each and every day.
4) Despite relentless news coverage hardly any miners have been killed in Utah. This week.
3) Despite overseeing the Winter Olympics which has such events as men's figure skating and the two-man luge, Mitt Romney is against gay marriage.
2) The University of Utah was the site of the first Jarvik-7 artificial heart surgery in retired dentist Barney Clark. The Jarvik-7 not only functions as a beating human heart but is also able to regulate the amount of Motown in your soul.
1) The largest open pit copper mine is in Utah. The only larger man-made cavity is Paris Hilton. This marvelous feat of engineering is only surpassed by the open pit mayonnaise mines located in Magna.

Westward Ho

Wife and I are back from our looking at shitty homes house hunting trip. We were successful in that we tricked a builder into giving us a newly built home in return for all of our money ever, several major organs and something about participating in a yearly ritual to keep the restless spirits of the Indian burial ground at peace. I really was so groggy at looking at so many houses that I really wasn't paying attention at that point. Luckily, because we will soon be in the West, we'll be able to quickly head to a Vegas hotel to win all the money back that we're having to shell out for the house.

I think the problem is that everyone is so friendly in Utah. And they're such good friends that they want you to be able to open your window and pass the potatoes to the house next door. Seriously, I've never seen such massive homes on such small lots. I hope my back neighbors are attractive as I'm going to be seeing a lot of them. They, one the other hand, aren't getting such a great deal. I can't wait to acquaint them with the quaint, Midwestern tradition of the pressed ham.

I did learn quite a bit about looking at houses. For example, if you have children, it is physically impossible to keep the house clean enough to show unless you put them in a dog kennel. Also, when you move out, you'll want to do a thorough cleaning job. Or you, just like my real estate agent, will use the following phrase:

"They certainly had kids. Because that's not just blood, that's nose-picking blood."

I'm not making that up. So when you're sitting on your sofa, think of all those tiny fingers putting their nose goblin collection on the wall behind it. And no, that's not the house we purchased.
Also, if you're undergoing the heartache of a divorce, throwing your wedding ring on the closet floor as you leave will not improve the resale value of your home. Judging my all the camouflage clothing in the house, he may not even know it's for sale yet.

Thanks for all the swell comments on my impending move to Utah. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy to know that semi-strangers can sympathize with my plight and plans to turn Utah into a wretched hive of scum and villainy.

Friday, December 07, 2007

License to Thrill

There's a bit of breaking news in the Shaque D'Amour de T2ed. It's not a complete secret but I haven't really been broadcasting it either.

After 17 years with one single employer, the Wife has been offered a big job with another multi-national corporation. And we're leaving the Great Grey North and taking the advice of Horace Greeley. Let's see why. Murder capital of the US? Check. Double the national unemployment rate? Check. Pathetic football team who has the worst record in December in the last 10 years? Check. Yes, this Midwestern Boy is moving to....wait for it..... the Beehive State.

The adventure really starts this weekend. I'm winging my way westward for a bit of house hunting. And I don't even need a license. Be vewy, vewy quiet. I'm hunting houses. Just a piece of paper from people with whom I have a "very special relationship." And by "very special" (yes, please continue making those finger quotes in the air), I mean they want me to be indebted to them for the rest of my life.

I plan on walking into many many expensive houses and making snotty comments about the lack of Progress Lighting and the poor color schemes of every bathroom. I don't even know what Progress Lighting is, but I'm going to act like it's a deal breaker. And if I see anything in Avacado, I'm going to run screaming from the house. People only act like this because they've been getting abused while trying to sell their shack. It's time for payback, bitches.

So if I'm quiet next week, it means I can't get my Pop's Captain Caveman Computer to let me write any action-packed entries of my trip into the wild. I'm imagine my Pop's computer is like something from the Flintstones. You use a big wooden club to pound on a big rock with a letter on it to type. Oh, and the Caps Lock is apparently always on.

The best thing about this whole adventure? My parents actually live there. So I could be 42 and living in my parents' basement. Karma, like gravity, is a harsh mistress. At least I'll have kissed a girl this time.

I'll be sure to say hi to both Donny and Marie for you. For the record, he's neither rock and roll nor Motown in his soul.

Thursday, December 06, 2007

Full Stop

I don't know why, but whenever Austin Powers is on tv, I absolutely have to stop until this scene is on:

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. Some times 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.

If that doesn't make you giggle, you need to find a tall, tall building. I'd like to see the kind of corporate performance management Dr. Evil would bring to the work place.

Do other people suffer from this affliction of having to stop for particular movie scenes or it just me?

Wreck the Malls

I'm not saying I know why that poor young man in Omaha, NE snapped yesterday. And if you have a loved one who was hurt, I apologize in advance. But I've got a brother there and a sister in law there and luckily they were both okay despite all the traffic congestion caused by the President. And I know I'm going to Hell anyway. While it's probably too soon, I'm going ahead with this anyway. Let the talking heads on the tv cables continue to natter.

It's just sad that someone had to completely snap to get the stores' attention. Because I knew those Xmas Carols were going to drive somebody nuts sooner or later.

You add a few hundred times hearing the Twelve Days of Christmas to those bell ringers outside of every store and it's only a matter of time.

I don't know when the Salvation Army took over. Seriously, I was in 4 stores today and there was a different person ringing that bell in front of every one of them. I already gave you sonsabitch Bumpuses 18 bags of clothes. Get that bell out of my face.

Did you ever notice how many different ways they can ring it? The soft little ting, ting, ting. Or the middling jingle, jingle, jingle. Or the really loud clang, clang, clang. And they can tell when you've got change and are just being pissy. I swear the last guy rang it right in my face.

And even if you yell "Merry Christmas" while you're slapping that bell out of their hand, they won't say "God bless us, everyone."

A little personal side note. I've been to both the Trolley Square mall in Salt Lake City (where the guy shot up the joint last year) and the Westroads mall in Omaha where yesterday's tragedy happened. If you see me shopping this holiday, you'd best have your flack jacket with you.

Now go make an elf. It's Wicked Funny and the reason Al Gore invented the interwebs for us. I like the one I did with all celebrity mugshots.

Wednesday, December 05, 2007

Just Plain Wrong

I can't help the way my mind works. There is no off position on the genius switch. Or maybe that's the crazy switch.

Now I don't approve of people who dress up their dogs. Dogs don't want clothing and I secretly think that the other dogs are making fun of them for wearing it. So when I saw this advert from the the Polo Peeps, I hated it. Come on, it's a sheep dog for crying out loud. He's already a hair ball and then you're throwing a shirt on him. If he had sweat glands, I bet he'd be perspiring under those hot photo shoot lights.

So of course this got me thinking. So I took the swell new free mock turtleneck I scored from and tried it out on my fashion model. I haven't even worn it yet because I won't wear clothes until they're washed and all the tags are cut out. I know -- crazy. Leave me alone.

Here's how my model did. I know grey isn't his color. He's just not a Winter.

I'm guessing that didn't realize what a big target demographic they had for pet clothing. It's going to be almost as big as tv for cats.
Guinness the Wonder Dog was amazingly patient during this hijink (the singular of hijinx). No animals were hurt in the production of this post. He was back up and licking himself in no time. But I fully expect to find a dookie in one of my shoes tonight.

Space Kitty

I'm not sure why I like this so much. Maybe it's all the egg nog talking after watching Rudy last night.

But this is the kind of "research" that would make a lot more kids study science if the lab work was like this. I only remember getting to play with a Slinky in my physics classes.

This is a lot more cool.

That kitty better get a life insurance quote. And how come they conveniently edited the best part of that vid out. You know, where the cat hooks on one of those scientists/pet abusers.

It's sad to see the ugly underbelly of our space program. But the cat does land on it's feet. Who knew?

Monday, December 03, 2007

Rudy in the Sky With Santa

The best Xmas special in the entire world is on tomorrow (Tuesday) at 8 pm (check local listings) on CBS. Of course, I'm talking about Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. This special is even older than me! And I'm too exhausted from throwing away all the detritus in my life to come up with an entirely new post.

Play along at home with your favorite beverage. When Rudolph's nose lights up, take a sip. Rudolph lights up and you're getting lit. You're going to hate seeing that damn Bumble again in the third act. I've seen this show a kajillion times and can actually recite most of the dialogue (much to the annoyance of anyone unfortunate enough to be watching it with me). So I have a deeper understanding and appreciation for the complex subplots and leitmotifs contained within the show. Don't let Rankin and Bass fool you, they're working on a whole other level here.

Despite being guised as a children's show, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer is actually a recognition of the unending struggle of man versus nature. There are, however, many unresolved questions in the show.
  • Sam the Snowman frequently displays omnipotence throughout his narration. Is he a manifestation of God?

  • The prejudice against Rudolph's nose is clearly anti-Semitism. Rudolph's friend Fireball is obviously a reference to the Holocaust. Is the Santa character a Nazi or a representation of Satan and the evil within every man?

  • Rudolph's cries of "I'm cude, I'm cuuuuude" represent the failure of the modern co-educational school system. Despite his superious flying skills, Rudolph is still ostracized by the other adolescent reindeer because of his infatuation with Clarisse. Note the prevalence of homo-erotic undertones throughout the reindeer games.

  • Why doesn't Yukon Cornelius just use his gun to shoot the Bumble? It is entirely appropriate to yell at the tv, "Use your gun, Yukon Cornelius" throughout the entirety of the drama. Is Yukon's non-use of his gun an indictment of the War in Iraq?

  • The elves' working condictions are representative of the outsourcing of labor outside of the United States. Should the elves unionize? Why are they denied dental benefits?

  • All the elf women are identical. Is this an early indictment of cloning and stem cell research?

  • Clarisse's eyelashes are clearly fake. How does she apply them when reindeer lack opposable thumbs?

  • Mrs. Claus is trying to kill Santa through food and her frequent exhortations to "Eat, Papa, Eat!" Does no one really like a skinny Santa or is Mrs. Claus merely a representation of the gluttony and rampant consumerism of the modern holiday season?

  • King Moonracer won't even consider non-misfits staying on the island. Does his monarchy represent the oppression of democracy or merely the gradual decay brought on by European feudalism?

  • What's wrong with the Doll on the Island of Misfit Toys? Incontentinence? Psychological instability? Depression? Multiple personalities?

  • Charlie in the Box is undoubtedly a reference to the Vietnam War. Is King Moonracer really a characicture of Lyndon Baines Johnson and expansionist Asian policies?

  • Rudoph's Mother and Clarisse are initially denied helping search for Rudolph because as Donner explains, "This is man's work." Is the plight of women in Rudolph representative of the disenfranchisement of women in the entire Muslim culture or merely women in the American workplace?

  • The worst snowstorm ever is clearly an indictment of global warming. Are reindeer a realistic replacement for fossil fuel consuming vehicles?

  • Yukon Cornelius' quest for silver and/or gold represents man's exploitation and destruction of the environment. Does his failure in his search for depletable mineral resources represent man's losing battle with the environment or merely the resiliancy of the human spirit?

  • This clearly isn't the first time Hermey has squealed like a pig. What happened in that cottage on the Island of Misfit Toys after Rudolph left and Hermey and Yukon were left in bed together?

  • Hermey the Elf is obviously gay. Evidence of this is when he pulls the Bumble's teeth to allow for greater oral gratification. Is Hermey short for hermaphrodite?

  • Yukon Cornelius also carries a whip. Do he and Hermey move to Vermont together after the show is over?

  • When scaring the Bumble, Yukon Cornelius clearly inflicts a "low blow" to the Bumble's crotch. Is this further confirmation of Cornelius' infatuation with Hermey or merely evidence of the ends justifying the means?

  • Rudolph's response of "Ready, Santa" is a celebration of individualism. Does diversity in nature really exist or is Man at fault for his encroachment upon the environment?

  • Santa is depicted as no longer delivering toys but merely tossing them from his sled. This underscores the fallacy of throwing money at societal injustice and mocks LBJ's Great Society. How is fiscal irresponsibility in the federal government represented by the various misfit toys?

Have fun, kids! Remember to drink whenever Rudolph's nose lights up because that makes the intellectual discussions even better.

Friday, November 30, 2007

A Fool and His Van Are Soon Parted

I'm eating crow this afternoon. No, not some roadkill.

I thought the only thing worse than unsolicited advice was unsolicited advice about things you have no control over. It turns out that unsolicited advice about your bathroom sink is even more frustrating.

So, just to recap, here are the current BCS Standings for Worthless Advice:

1) Unsolicited Advice About Stuff That Scares the Shit Out of You
2) Unsolicited Advice About Stuff You Don't Care About
3) Unsolicited Advice About Stuff You Can't Control
4) Unsolicited Advice About Stuff You Wouldn't Change Anyway

Maybe they'll be a playoff so we can determine the true national champion of useless advice.

I'd just like someone to finally say, "I got nothing. Good luck with that. You can probably muddle through this like you do with everything else in your life." That's probably why I'm not on the inspirational speaker circuit. Rubber chicken and a lot of "Deal with it, pinkbelly" isn't exactly what folks want to hear.

Luckily, my new best friend who lets me read his Secret Public Journal, Mike Birbiglia was able to take my mind off things for a while the other night. We had tickets for a concert that was only 5$.

I was pretty skeptical because this sounded like a deal that was too good to be true. I was afraid we might have to cough up some canned goods to get it or sit through a time-share presentation or pass around a candle and tell everyone what we were thankful for. I was really thankful that I didn't have to ask any more stoned college students where the concert was on their campus with inadequate signage. I'm not even sure some of these kids were enrolled at the school. They may have just been roaming around at random in the cold and looking for some snacks.

Mike wasn't awkward or shy in the least and wasn't pudgy either. In fact, he was skinny and he was awesome. I just wish we'd have been able to see the A-Team Van.

Now go have a great weekend. And remember, breathing causes cancer. Good luck with that last bit of unsolicited advice about stuff you can't do anything about.

House Party

Because the Wife and I will soon be going through a Major Change in our personal existence [more on that later when I have the stomach to write about it] , we're having to put up with a lot of strangers right now. Lots of folks are walking through our lives and commenting upon things. I don't do strangers well at the best of times. But when people who are even less than acquaintances have all sorts of helpful "advice" for me, I can be downright surly.

For example, I never knew how many opinions there are on bathroom vanities. And don't get me started on window treatments.

I think the only thing that may be comparable to this is getting pregnant. It's the only other time where complete strangers wander up to you and want to rub your belly and offer unsolicited advice about what you need to do.

Unfortunately, I'm not able to tell people to shut the hell up and then blame it on rampaging hormones. And I may name my rock and roll band The Rampaging Hormones. We'll play a lot of Ramones covers and see if anyone gets the reference.

Now I have to go schedule my teenage lobotomy.

Wednesday, November 21, 2007

Gobble It All, Baby

I absolutely love this time of the year. I like to sit in my Dr. Denton's (from Centreville, MI, natch) and watch the feebs on the Weather Channel talk about how holiday travel is going to be Armageddon because of all the storms. The only thing better is when you see that CNN shot of people in Hartfield-Jackson trying to pull their Samsonite through the maze of other people who got screwed before they actually lean across a counter and throttle the agent. Because after all, she's the one who really controls the weather not Mr. Snow Miser.

Yes, it's very nice not to travel on the holidaze. Try not to snort a beverage through your nose as you laugh at the tv.

We're forgoing Tofurkey this year for Roast Beast. Yes, I'm such a culinary iconoclast. A Rebel without a Roux.

Which brings me to the other big tradition of Turkey Day--shopping the day after. I don't remember this being such a big deal. But all the kids are doing it. Every store is trying to suck you in with incredible deals to get you in the store as early as possible. That's because when you're good and groggy and the egg nog rush has worn off, they know you'll just grab whatever is left in the middle of the aisle to get the hell out of the store. One of my friends swears that her husband doesn't actually shop for her. He just sprints through the store and whatever crap he can grab from those center displays is what she winds up with for Xmas. Holiday socks, ugly sweaters, slippers that make your feet sweat (and stink), tie racks. Anything in the center aisle should be a warning. Danger, Will Robinson, danger.

I don't know much about rampant consumerism, but if you're getting up early to be at Kohl's for the 4 am door opening, you may have a problem. That's like betting on pre-season football. I guess it could be worse. You could actually be camping out in the parking lot of the Bass Pro Shop overnight. None of this is made up, kids. Nothing says the holidays like camping in a parking lot.

So enjoy the time with your family, kids. Just because Mom always liked your Sister best doesn't mean you have to finish all the roasted garlic mashed potatoes. Or the way your in-laws stare at you while silently judging your worthiness based upon your domesticity. It could be a lot worse. That judging could be not so silent.

And nobody wants that. Especially after Aunt Ruth starts giving you those sloppy kisses after polishing off her highball of Old Fashioned.

Saturday, November 17, 2007


So as I was using my ninja tongue-fu skills to navigate the crowded aisles of my local grocery store, I couldn't help but notice this recipe.

Bacon-wrapped turkey? Sign me up, pardner. I was planning on draining my checking account to spring for a turducken, but this sounds even better. Almost as good as bacon-flavored toothpaste.

I'm pretty excited about the upcoming traditional pranks:
  • Zip a turkey neck in your fly while you greet guests at the door and pretend your hooha is on display. Bonus points if you're female.
  • Sneak a hard boiled egg inside a the Cornish game hen inside the turkey to freak out the right-to-lifers at your table.
  • Slip an open can of cream of mushroom soup before making retching sounds after the meal. Make sure you moan something about "too much pie" before leaning over and spilling it on the floor. Extra points if you can get a co-conspirator to grab a spoon and start lapping it up ala The Great Santini.
  • Set the TIVO up to play the finale of the 1980 Detroit Lions v. Chicago Bears Thanksgiving Day game instead of the real game. When the Lions allow the overtime opening kickoff to be returned for a touchdown see how many men actually cry. At least a 21 second overtime loss didn't allow the food to get cold.
  • Lock the doors when everyone goes outside to throw the football around at half time.
  • Place the bird on the table and loudly announce that no one will be able to tell this is Tofurkey.
  • Duct tape Uncle Earl in his chair when he falls asleep during the game. Bonus points for putting the bottle of JD just out of reach.
  • Make a big deal out of insisting you be allowed to do the dishes after the meal. While everyone is out of the kitchen, just leave.
  • Make the youngest sibling (even if he's 42 and has kids) sit at a card table with the other children.
  • Carefully extend your pinky when you drink gravy from a glass.
  • No matter who prepared the meal grouse about it's not as good as Mom's. This is especially amusing if Mom actually prepared the meal.
  • Loosen your belt as soon as you sit down at the table.
  • Two words: whoopee cushions
  • Insist on being allowed to carve the turkey. Grab the largest knife and go after it like Janet Leigh is in the shower. Swear that's how turkey is served in all the fancy restaurants.
  • During the meal, loudly ask if you can go to the bathroom. Then say, "Oops, too late." Bonus points for wearing an eye patch.

Friday, November 16, 2007

Super Parrot Trooper

We really got lucky with this Writer's Guild Strike. Luckily, John Edwards is going to join them on the picket line because there will be cameras there. Hope he goes for that sleeves rolled up, jacket over the shoulder look that makes him so dreamy.

But we initially had a little trouble as we couldn't get any carry out food delivered because Hop Sing wouldn't cross the picket line and thought we were scabs. We finally had to let him read a couple of our scripts and he quickly realized that clearly no one involved with Parrot Trooper was a professional writer.

Unfortunately, because all the other shows (except for crummy game shows and reality shows) are halted, the Notwork (what we call the network) has asked for very special hour long shows to foist off on entice advertisers to go with our first run shows. We're also completely whoring out with product placements but are still arguing with the Notwork Mouthpieces about the Trojan condom episode. That may just have to be released on the web.

Anyways, here is this week's very special episode.
  • Mookie & I play skeeball (and a plug for Axe body spray)
  • Bob the Talking Parrot gives me a great idea for a gun that temporarily sprays "asshole" on anything it's aimed at. We expect this to revolutize highway travel. (Plug for Ford F-150 trucks)
  • James steals the prototype "Hole-itzer" but accidentally shoots his own house (plug for Glidden paint)
  • The city jails James for public indecency (plug for Playboy magazine)
  • Mookie argues on James' behalf for free speech while I make eyes at the hot, brunette prosecuting attorney (plug for stage version of Twelve Angry Men)
  • James gets jailed for contempt after yelling "This whole Court is out of order." James is restrained and removed from the court room (product placement for Taser personal protective devices)
  • Mookie wins the case by arranging to have thousands of letters addressed to Barry Bonds delivered to the court
  • Cameo appearance by Mr. Amy Winehouse who shares a cell with James (product placement for Amy's latest album, Back to Black)
  • Mookie discovers the hot attorney also has a sister so we double date (plug for Applebee's)
  • Bob the Talking Parrot writes on his blog about the Hole-itzer and how important free speech is. Along the way, we learn a little something. (product placement for Dell)

Whew, wasting 44 minutes on tv is almost as hard as wasting 22 minutes. At least we didn't have to try to cram in some crap about the environment in an obvious grandstanding ploy.

Thursday, November 15, 2007

You Talking About My Sister?

In Australia (where women blow and men wonder), Santa Clauses (hope I didn't ruin anything there for you, Virginia) have been told to say, "Ha, ha, ha" so as not to be offensive to women. That's funny, I didn't know the Rutgers Women's Basketball team even played in Sydney.

But seriously, how stupid is this? Are a lot of women strolling by the department store Santa and hear his belly laugh and get offended? I thought people got offended because Santa drank or got a little too fresh while you were on his lap.

I saw the Santa at our mall the other day. Because I was on a break during lunch, he was just standing around his little compound looking bored. It's not like he can really take a break in the Food Court or grab some wings from Ruby Tuesday's because he'd get that sauce all over his beard. Luckily, because there were no urchins kids around, I was able to sneak right in and tell him what I wanted.
  • World Peace
  • Better Housing Market
  • Some Underwear for Brittney
  • Some Therapy for Amy
  • A Chrysler 300 accessory
  • Itchy Crewneck Sweaters (which I'm going to get anyway)
  • the Simpsons nativity scene
  • the Shrek Xmas Special
  • an end to the Writer's Strike so I can see Dave again
  • the college football season to end so all those poor Notre Dame fans can finally get some relief from their torment
  • Parrot Trooper to make it into syndication
  • a car mounted laser for the slow moving mini-vans that have Nascar stickers
  • the Christina Aguilera Christmas Album
  • those calf implants I've been saving up for
  • finally getting on Larry David's Christmas Card list

Who am I kidding? I'll probably get coal just like last year. Luckily, with the current run up in the commodities market, I was able to make a bundle. Thank you China and your insatiable demand for energy.

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

Sign, Sign, Everywhere a Sign

I swear I didn't doctor this sign.

It's a real live car wash around the corner from where I live in the Great Grey North.

I don't know what it means. I don't know what it's supposed to mean. I don't know if you're supposed to be doing it it or you're getting it done to you.

But I sure as heck wouldn't take out Faxless Payday Loans to get one. Or more.

If you're either getting your bottom blasted or maybe even doing the bottom blasting, don't you think that's worth more than a buck?

There's only one thing I know for sure. The boss is out of town hunting this week and the interns are getting to monkey around with the signs.

Sunday, November 11, 2007

What's In a Name

If I told you Mike Hunt loved women's basketball would you believe me? Well, it's true. Mike Hunt (and his wife) donated $200,000 to the Western Kentucky Lady Hill Toppers basketball team.

I can guarantee several things.

1) The Lady Hill Toppers' additional scholarships will be put to good use.
2) Mike and his wife Belle Hunt are very generous.
3) Mike learned how to fight when he was a kid.

Because this is a challenge donation, other people can donate. Here's some other swell benefactors:
  • Fonda Clams
  • Richard Smoker
  • Patrick Fitzmichael
  • Michael Fitzpatrick
  • Wilma Fingerdoo
  • Velma Lamba (and her kids Ding & Dong)
  • Stu Pedasso
  • Ophelia Pratt
  • Heywood Jablowme
  • Seymour Butts
  • Dick Peters
  • Sharon Krabbes
  • Fire Glass
  • Peter Stroker
  • Mr. Bader
  • Harry Balczak
  • Phil McCracken
  • Ivana Veener
  • Lord Wellington Pissypants
  • Dirk Hertz
  • Willie Pfisterbottom
  • B.J. Hunter
  • Woody Spanker
  • Peter Wonker
  • Tom Ollie
  • Rod Turgid

Yes, I know I'm an infant. But if you ever heard a 70 year old law professor ask timidly if Dick Hertz was in class, you'd know how funny this stuff really is.

Things I Don't Get

There's lots of stuff that just excapes (that's how they say it here in the Midwest, youse guys) my understanding. I just shrug my shoulders and get on with my life. I'm never going to understand it, I certainly won't be able to change it and railing against it won't do anything other than get me hot and bothered.

Here are the list of windmills lately:

1) People who seem surprised to suddenly have to pay for their groceries

Seriously, Meemaw, when was the last time you walked out without paying? I know all old people steal (it's up to 83% now), but that you're shocked, shocked to find out that pretty coins are required to exit the grocery store is amazing.

True story, Meemaw was attempting to pay for a single can of cat food with change. As I was in a hurry to get on with my life, I said, "Let me" and gave the clerk 2$ for the can. It was my good deed for the year. Meemaw looked up at me sweetly with her watery blue eyes and patted me on the arm as she sniffed her thanks.

When I was finally done with my transaction, I saw her driving away in her brand new Cadillac. Yup, I'm a schmuck.

2) Watching Celebrities Dance

These are celebrities by only the widest stretch of the term. If you want to see crummy dancing, go to the Senior Center. More people watching Dancing With the Has Beens than the final game of the World Serious. Ow.

And why America likes aging swishy Englishmen to be their judges is beyond me.

3) Women Liking Joo-ry

I don't get it. But sparkly, shiny things are of great interest to the dominant species on our planet. I always buy Wife sparklies for major events: Xmas, Birthday, Anniversary, Fridays. I don't understand it, but I know how to use it to my advantage. It's like kryptonite. Bring a nice piece around and she'll be hyp-mo-tized. Then you can go watch basketball without a lot of questions.

4) Getting paid to blog

I'm not sure why people like to advertise on blogs. I'm going to do this anyway. If they want to slap a de minimus amount of cashola on me to help defray the cable bill every month, more power to them. I would never whore out and say something is good when it sucks. But then what doesn't suck anymore? I'd love to write about my swell experience with superiour customer service somewhere. But that hasn't happened since ought three. So I let the Smorty folk ply with me pennies. Does that make me a whore? Hey, I worked in the legal profession and for a chemical company. We've already established there's not much I won't do.

But if someone wants to offer me a million bucks to say what an effective job the Big Ten Network is doing at spreading its unique message of sportsmanship to the world, I'd like to have to tussle with that ethical dilemma.

5) Politicans

Here's a really old one. How do you know when a politician is lying? Their lips are moving. I can't take this for another year. I've already screamed at the tv during debates.

And why should Iowa get to matter in the scheme of things. So goes Iowa, so goes the country. If that doesn't keep you up at night, what does? Iowa already screwed up the Erotic Corn Dog Contest. Why should a state that exercises that poor type of judgment be allowed to impact the presidential race? And New Hampshire? Come on. You couldn't find that on a map if we spotted you Vermont and Massachusetts.

Here's another old one. What's the best thing to ever come out of Iowa? Interstate 80.

I kid because I care, Hawkeye State. Don't take it personally. Enjoy the scenic vistas of the Quad Cities and the rolling bluffs of the Council. Remember it could be worse. You could be in Minnesota.

Saturday, November 10, 2007

New Amazing Products

The web store is really doing well. All of our double top secret, exclusive items are literally flying off the virtual shelves, online shopping cart, and into virtual customers homes and garages. If I didn't have swell ecommerce software, we'd have never been able to open and make such a mint of money.

Luckily we're also heading into the holiday season so people are going to be using the shopping cart software to line my pockets with yuletide loot.

Here are just a few of the new products we've got in to help you make it a Happy Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Christmas and Winter Solstice. We don't discriminate at We'll rip all creeds and colors off.

This just in:
  • Ellen Degeneres autographed copy of The Jungle by Upton Sinclair
  • Tea Cozies made from Ed Asner's back hair
  • Miami Dolphin Offensive Game Plan from London (and signed by former offensive genius Cam Cameron)
  • Mandy Moore's signed pledge to never appear drunk in public with or without underwear and thereby be ignored by the media
  • This year's lost scripts for 24
  • The positive movie reviews for Fred Clause
  • Michael Vick's audition tape for The Dog Whisperer
  • MP3 file of Robert Goulet's Hunka Hunka Burning Love cover
  • The hopes of Chicago Bears fans everywhere
  • Hillary Clinton's white paper titled "I'm For Everything"
  • Rudi Guiliani's white paper titled "Not Me, No Wait...."
  • Ann Curry's frantic cell phone call regarding the South Pole
  • Matt Lauer's cell phone call to Katie Couric regarding the "south pole"
  • Katie Couric's frantic cell phone call to her eyebrows
  • Jay Leno's frantic cell phone call to Conan Schwarzzenegger
  • Jay Leno's frantic cell phone call to Conan O'Brien
  • Picture of Paris Hilton wearing Ed Asner tea cozy in public

This is sure to be a bargain bonanza. Order now, kids.

Friday, November 09, 2007

Walking On Sunshine

Because it's getting to be the time of year when snow actually falls and sticks in the Great Grey North (check local listings), I'm trying to teach the hairy one that walking on the treadmill is good for him.

For some strange reason, he'd just rather do this:

When not trying to be the world's hairiest lap blanket, Guinness the Wonder Dog loves to run around like a maniac. Thus far that involves someone being outside to observe the insanity and not just doing it while staying in the same place ala the treadmill.

And someone actually asked if he was named after the actor. As far as you know, it's the Big Book of Records. Because the picture of the world's longest fingernails didn't traumatize me enough when I was a spud. Brilliant.

Skip To My Lou Grant

Ladies, start your engines. The hunkiest hunk in Hollywood is back on the market. That's right, the cute, cuddly love machine, Mr. Edward Asner is going to be back on the market. His wife just filed for separation citing the omnipresent "irreconciable differences." This is Fast Eddie's 2nd trip down the aisle. Since the 3rd time is the charm, it's your change for a little rebound action with Mr. Grant, ladies.

Luckily, a trusted insider (as far as you know) told this reporter the Top Ten Reasons the Asners are separating:

10) His back hair keeps clogging the shower drain
9) Keeps trying to get her to have a threesome with Gavin MacLeod
8) His drunken ramblings about the comic genius of Ted Knight whenever Caddyshack is on cable
7) Makes her polish all 7 of his Emmy's with a toothbrush
6) Always runs down Tim Allen's "ham-fisted" acting job in The Santa Clause
5) His inability to get over his tennis loss to Lola Falana the Battle of the Network Stars
4) Ernie Borgnine won't get off their couch
3) Big gambling losses to Gabe Kaplan in weekly poker game
2) Insists she calls him Mr. Grant during all pillow talk
1) Swears he could still perform high wire routine for a modern Circus of the Stars

Thursday, November 08, 2007

Thank Heaven For Little Girls

If you haven't heard, Mattel is coming out with a special set of golf clubs aimed at girls from 4 to 6 years old. It's the Barbie Golf Set. Wow, 4 years old and being pushed into sports. Just in time for the holidays, you can get your progeny crushing, unrealistic expectations!

I'm sure this isn't because a lot of athletically frustrated parents want their kid to grow up to be Michelle Wie is it? Can you even tell if you daughter is a lesbian at that age? Trust me, I went to the Dinah Shore Classic in Palm Springs and it was lesbian Beetlemania.

I think Mattel should also come out with a Ken golf set aimed at young boys. It won't have any balls, no bag and definitely no woods.

Hiyo.... I'm here all week kids. Tip your waitstaff and bartenders. Enjoy the next act.

Wednesday, November 07, 2007

The Bear Necessities

At our Public Liberry they have a display of books on bears. Yes, this is the same public liberry that has to put a sign that says Books Only on the garbage can.

Presumably only literate folk would go to the liberry. But while they're smart enough to read, they're dumb enough to try to return books by putting them in the garbage can instead of the return slot.

Anyways, I improved the bear book display a bit. If by "improve" you mean sneaking books on wild game cooking onto the display. If that's wrong, I don't want to be right. I wonder how long it will take the garbage book folks to realize there are cookbooks in the bear display?

Yes, I was very careful to make sure the wild game cookbooks were right next to the books on Pandas. Because whenever I see a Panda Express at the mall, I always ask very loudly if the panda is fresh. Kung Pao Panda is still my favorite.

Tuesday, November 06, 2007

Top 10 Reasons...

If you haven't heard, Carlos Santana and his wife of 34 years, Deborah, are getting divorced. She filed.

Here's why:

10) She really prefers the bass
9) Tired of being called a Black Magic Woman every time she asks him to pick up his socks
8) Every time he finds his keys, claims it's Supernatural
7) She hates that goofy hat
6) Tired of him calling her Deborah, Deborah
5) Originally thought she was marrying pitcher Johan Santana
4) His outrageous claims of being a Shaman
3) That skeevey moustache
2) The way he always sings Pasta Primavera whenever they go to Olive Garden
1) Insists on asking for an "encore" and holding up a lighter after they have sex

Monday, November 05, 2007

There's No Place Like Gnome

If you, like the Simpsons, live in Springfield, Oregon and seem to have misplaced your garden gnome, you might be able to pick it up at the local police department.

Someone took 75 lawn ornaments and carefully placed them around one house. Now the wayward eyesores decorations are at the police station and ready to be identified by their owners. I've never done something that elaborate, but I will confess to making those Dutch Kids 69.

Quote of the story: "Every time I leave my office they're sitting in my chair, working on my computer," Capt. Richard Harrison said.

I forgot about that strong clerical work ethic in garden gnomes.

Are there such things as gnome mailboxes? Because who wouldn't like to put their mail in a gnome's ass?

No word in the story about whether they've rounded up the Leaning Cowboy, Lady Bending Over or Little Boy Peeing for questioning.

I'm not a detective, but I might dust those gnomes for prints and check them against some folks at Travelocity.

Friday, November 02, 2007

I'm a Lumberjack and I'm OK

A quick little bit of advice, kids.

If you're driving around and see this swell sign that says Free Wood, you're not supposed to take your pants off.

It would make an excellent t-shirt though. Especially with the arrow pointing downward.

Oh, and Free Willy probably isn't what you're expecting either, you pre-verts.

This Week's Episode

Well the initial ratings for Parrot Trooper were really good. We got a 7.6 share with a majority of 18 to 49 year olds and won our time slot against MILF Island and Colonoscopies with the Stars. I don't know what any of those numbers or terms means, but it means our interns get to keep having sex with the network president but we still have to kiss a lot of executive ass.

We keep getting "notes" which we file away for when we need to start selling stuff on eBay to support our Precious Moments habit. Notes are supposed to be the higher ups polite way of telling you what to do. My agent and co-conspirator said that as long as we win our time slot we can tell them to get bent.

This week it's the typical hi-jinks.
  • Bob invents the Smart Brush and lets me sell it to Microsoft who comes up with a way to input all your teeth data into an excel spread sheet that automatically gets sent to your dentist so she can see how long you really brush and not just when you do it for a half hour until your gums bleed right before an appointment.
  • Tony pays back a debt with a Lotto ticket that turns out to be worth $150,000
  • Tony tries to frame me for illegally stealing electricity but after spending the night in jail next to Paris, she finds Jesus and accidentally gives Tony an STD when he steals her toothbrush for his celebrity toothbrush collection.
  • All the pro football players I meet during my night in the joint come over for a game of touch football with Muggsy and me.
  • Muggsy and I hang out with some of the cheerleaders who tag along while Tony stews inside of his protective bubble.

Thursday, November 01, 2007

Post Halloween-itis

It was a great Halloween last night. Lots of rain so we got to hoard our candy from the lil ghouls and goblins who came a begging. Too bad no adults wanted to play Drink or Treat.

If you were playing along with Trick or Freak (trying to guess if someone is actually dressed up for Halloween or just a freak), I hope you had Freak if you drew Bethlehem High School Principal Dr. Paul Schum in the pool.

Seems the good Doctor was dressed up like a woman wearing leather with fishnet stockings and fake breasts. Oh, and he was allegedly "loitering with the intent of prostitution" in an alley.

Wow, I knew school district budgets were tight, but I had no idea they were slashed this much. That's why I always give money to those cheerleader car washes.

Gambling Man

I'm amazed at how many online gambling sites there are. There are so many of them that's there's another site for online casino reviews just to tell you about all the sites that there are.

This comes as a real shock to me. First, I didn't realize there was gamblings on the interwebs. Second, I didn't realize there were so many gamblings that you needed someone else just to tell you all about the gamblings on the interwebs.

I'm a little disappointed that no one had the clever idea of naming an online casino Casablanca. It must be the nostalgia in me.

I also had some other names for online casinos that anyone is free to use. I'm not sure how much help they will be:
  • Lose Your Money Here (which is what that cowboy for the Pioneer was saying)
  • (that may be taken for a completely different kind of site)
  • Trump's Hair Badger
  • Caesar's Salad Palace (no anchovies, please)
  • Soon You'll Be Wearing a Barrel Just Like in the Cartoons
  • If You're Betting on Pre-Season Football You Have a Problem
  • Listen to All Them Winners (which should be yelled loudly whenever you hear a ringing slot machine in a real live casino)
  • Chief Scalpalotofum's Teepee Lodge of Winners
  • Drinkey Losey
  • Smokin' Hot (oxygen tanks welcome)
  • All You Can Lose
  • You're Different--You've Got a System
  • It's Not Money, It's Chips
  • Excan'twinhere

Feel free to play along at home, kids.

Wednesday, October 31, 2007


I'm so excited it's finally here. And it's supposed to rain here in the midwest (check local listings). That means we'll get to keep all that sweet holiday candy when fewer urchins darling children don't show up tonight.

My costume? It's pretty sweet.

I've got a mannequin in an orange vest strapped to the front of my pick up truck and a canvas tent in the back. Then I'm just going to drive around in this get up all day. Oh, and I plan on throwing jerky when I drive by some schools.

That ought to give those hunters something to think about when gun season opens in a couple of weeks.

Alternatively, you can just wear clothes for the opposite sex and look really confused when people ask you if it's a costume. I always like to play a little game I call Freak or Treat. It's when you try to decide whether someone is actually dressed for Halloween or just actually wearing that outfit in public. You'd be surprised how hard it is to tell around here.

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Noche del Diablo

Here in the Midworst, we have some odd traditions. One of those odd fellows is that we burn stuff down in Detroit. It's always the night before Halloween and it's called Devil's Night.

I don't know when things started to turn. Devil's Night used to just be a time for some good childish fun with toilet paper and eggs. But then the arsonists got hold of things and it took a turn. It's kind of amazing that arsonists have their own holiday and patron saint. Who is it? Saint Elmo of course. Not the giggling, hairy Elmo either.

So now there are literally hundreds of fires set across the state. It's usually nothing nice like a Michigan bed and breakfast that gets torched. It's typically some crappy old run down building that gets it. I'm got more than a suspicion that some sweet insurance dough might be a reason for some of these antics. I just can't imagine Steve Douglas as a bad guy though.

I'm not sure why burning stuff is so cathartic. One of my buddies moved up here from Texas and his first question was, "What's with all the couch burning?" Then I reminded him that he went to Texas A&M where they used to have an organized bonfire. That shut him up.

But if you could invent fire proof couch covers, I'll bet every campus in the Midwest would buy them.

Know When To Fold Them

I still can't figure out the Detroit Lions. They're 5-2 and a half game back of the Green Bay Fudge Packers in their division.

But the Kitties still haven't beaten anyone with a winning record. They gave their coach a Gatorade shower after he beat his old team, the Yuckaneers. And one of their receivers told the media they can all kiss his ass after they won last week.

They're a conundrum, wrapped in a riddle inside an enigma. And buried in a mayonnaise jar under Funk and Wagnall's front porch. Thank you, Karnak.

So if I had a link to the top online sportsbook and wanted to lay a little wager on the Kitties against the Broncos (who are coming off a heartbreaking overtime loss to Brett "I Really Was Born in a Manger" Favre), I'm not sure what I would do this early in the week. The game is not even on the board yet. Hold your breath, kids.

Sunday, October 28, 2007


Wife and I can't have children. Because we loathe them. That and I stepped on a toe popper in Vietnam at the Battle of Chun King. But where was my parade when I came home after keeping Arizona safe from Charlie for all those years?

Anyway, we have no need for life insurance for kids. This kid does though.

And while Uncle T2ed doesn't advocate putting a kid on your hood and driving 99 miles an hour, I understand it.

Especially if he's named Damien Beelzebub and screams through the entire church service.

Who was really surprised to see the holy water burn him?

Friday, October 26, 2007

Panty Power

Are you tired of social injustice in the world? Do you want to do something about it? Do you want to help those poor Myanmarians who still think they're living in Burma?

Well you can, ladies. Just take off your panties.

While it probably sounds like I just made this up, I didn't. (But I'm kicking myself anyway. And I'd have gone with bras).

Apparently the military dictatorship (or junta if you will) is so superstitious that they fear contact with a woman's panties can rob them of their power. I don't know about the dictators, but I've been rendered powerless by a woman's undergarments before. Thanks, I'm here all week.

While I'm not sure how taking off your skivvies and mailing them to evil uberlords will help, it can't hurt. But Panty Power just doesn't do it for me as a call to throw off the chains of tyranny. And since it was started by someone with only one name (Tomoko), that's kind of a warning sign right there. If the goal is to "raise awareness" of women's underwear, as a guy, I can honestly say, we're pretty aware already.

May I suggest the following monikers for this most excellent protest:
  • BVDestruction
  • Freeboob for Freedom
  • Knicker Neutralization
  • Paradrop Panties
  • Operation Burnout by Bra-less
  • Plot Playtex
  • Hanes Harmonization
  • Gotchie Ground Grab
  • Operation Enduring Elastic
  • Wargame Wonderbra
  • Cleavacious Cleansing
  • Lingerie Launch
  • Unconventional Unmentionable Warfare
  • Thong Threat
  • Crotchless Coup
  • Longjohn Lockdown
  • Undie-niable Assistance
  • Corset Counter Attack
  • Grand Strategy G-String
  • Wait Till We Get Our Hummers on You

Because I'm not in women's underwear (but how I always like to be), there's probably some other brands or names or other code words or double top secret terminology that mens aren't privy too.

So play along at home kids. We can bring this evil regime to its knees! Or at least get it's pants down around its ankles.

A Vote For Me Is a Vote For Me

If you believe in the fundamentally just nature of our political process, you've simply got to run out and vote for Jose ''Pepe'' Caragol who is running for City Council in Hialeah, Florida.

Pepe is not only the 76 year old incumbent, but he's using a slogan about oral sex in his campaign stumping.

When they starting handing out trophies for best slogans ever, "If you like oral sex, vote Caragol for council" has got to get one. And I've got a pretty good idea what that trophy might look like.

And while Pepe's slogan rocks in English, in Spanish it rhymes. Si te gusta el sexo oral, vote por Caragol por consejal. Who'd have ever thought oral sex in Spanish was just "sexo oral?" Guess you can just add an O to the end of any word and instantly speak Spanish. But make sure you speak very loudly and slowly.

Pepe's challenger, Mercy Dominguez has criticized the slogan and responded with a slew of new slogans:

  • We can still be friends
  • Pepe leaves a bad taste in my mouth
  • Spit out the incumbent
  • Can't we just cuddle?
  • I don't Like You Like You
  • It's Not Really Sex According to Bill

Since I'm driving the Pepe bandwagon, here's some other suggestions he can feel free to use:

  • If you don't like Bush or Dick, you'll love Pepe
  • I ♥ multiple voting
  • Pepe is Sexay
  • Mercy Dominguez is a frigid shrew
  • You Don't Actually Blow On It
  • Pepe By the Dashboard Light
  • Pepe's Too Sexy [for This Election]
  • When I Think Of You, I Vote for Pepe
  • That's Not Pepe's Chad That's Dangling
  • Pepe Blows My Mind
  • Come and Enjoy Pepe's Victory Ball

Ah, I just love a good election joke. Feel free to play along at home kids.

Just In Time for Halloween

I can't believe someone is doing this to their kid. This is why people shouldn't get high and pick names.

We just got first communion invitations from a couple who named their kid Damien. And it's for this Sunday. Yeah, right before Halloween. Is that spooky or what? I'm not sure, but his middle name might be Beelzebub.

If the church roof doesn't collapse, I'm going to be sure to check that kid's head for a 666 tattoo. Or I might let slip, "Hey, he has three 9's on his head." Just to be on the safe side, I'm wearing a hockey mask and bringing a chain saw. I hope they give out candy.

I can tell you one thing, no kid better ever pick on 'lil Damien Beelzebub on the playground. Oh he'll fry their brain with his evil powers.

Thursday, October 25, 2007

Parrot Trooper

I've been using some swell business collaboration software to work on the sitcom pilot with my writing partner/lover. Remember according to Claudia Johnson & Matt Stevens screenplays are like sperm -- there's a one in a million chance they'll get made. (And I thought it was because most drafts leave a bad taste in your mouth).

We've got a 13 episode deal with ABC to replace that Caveman show when it gets cancelled next week. Oops, that's a secret. Keep it to yourselves. We were going to go with something about a lizard, but the lawyers wouldn't let us. I was hoping for an HBO deal so we could show some boobies to make up for the lack of character development but no such luck.

The star of the show is Bob, a talking parrot. Think Sabrina the Teenage Witch with that cgi talking cat meets Knight Rider meets Mr. Ed. Bob is the brains of the operation and I'm the lucky-as-hell doof who owns him. Thanks to Bob's super genius, every bad idea I have turns into a great situation where I wind up with bucks in the bank and a hot brunette on my arm.

My wacky neighbor is Muggsy Bogues the shortest NBA player to ever dunk a ball. He'll actually be called Muggsy just like they always had to do with Tony Danza's characters in any show. Muggsy and I will have lots of wacky adventures involving working in a chocolate factory, making vitamin commercials and running a bed and breakfast for a sick friend. We'll initially meet Muggsy where we can just see the top of his head over my backyard fence while he dunks a basketball. When everyone thinks it's going to be a rip off of Wilson, but then we'll just show him later and act like nothing happened.

My slowly being driven crazy neighbor is Tony Soprano James Gandolfini (he really needed the work) who plays Ralph. Ralph is the only other person who knows Bob can talk. Ralph keeps trying to expose me as a fraud and lucky idiot. Think Mrs. Kravitz meets Mr. Roper.

In the pilot episode, Bob discovers the internet but lets Al Gore and me take credit for it as long as I water-ski jump over a shark, I play some golf with Muggsy, Ralph inadvertently gets signed up for AOL and can't cancel his service, the Miss Teen USA bus breaks down in front of my house and Miss South Carolina makes an unexpected drop in cameo and we wind up playing Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego.

Stay tuned because we have evil twins, mistaken identities, lies that compound themselves into further complications, secret identities, very special episodes with a moral, Bob dialing a phone with a pencil in his mouth, good twins, sleepwalking, dance contests, more shark jumping, cute kids who have all the punch lines and act way too adult, catchy catch phrases, lots of product placements, and washed up guest stars from 80's television shows. In short, it's sure to be a hit.

I wish I were making this up.

Thursday, October 18, 2007

Consider Yourself Affirmed

Lindsay Lohan is sporting new affirmation clothing. She was spotted shopping in lovely (and oh so trendy) Orem (Family City USA and I'm NOT making this up), Utah while wearing a hoodie with the following sayings on it:
  • i'm oh so lovely
  • heir to the throne
  • beauty comes from within
  • royal queen
  • love is the key

I'm totally ripping off this idea but with more of a celebrity bent. Here's what I'll be writing on the clothes for my celeb clients:

  • Remember Your Underwear
  • Don't Get Married This Weekend
  • Kids In Their Seats Not My Lap
  • No Blow in the Loo
  • Tell Me I'm Pretty Dammit
  • Don't Chase Former Assistants With Your Car
  • Mean Papparazzi Suck
  • Please Hold My Hair When I Vomit
  • Open All Night
  • Don't Pull on My Ears, I Know What I'm Doing
  • You Can Really Act
  • Who Knows Why I'm Famous
  • Buy Me Drinks and You Can Probably Get Lucky
  • Almost 43 Hours Sober -- Oops
  • Got Fries?
  • It's All About the Music
  • Seriously, This Movie Won't Suck
  • Toughest Con on Celebrity Cell Block C
  • My Other Hoodie Is On the Floor of Some Guy's Car
  • Beer Doesn't Count
  • Rehab Is For Quitters

Feel free to play along at home, kids.

Wednesday, October 17, 2007


People often ask me, why I stay in Michigan. Because where else could you see stuff like this? I apologize for the crummy layout. I give with Glogger and images already.

Yes, that sign actually says, "Pumpkins you pick you pay what's fair Please put money in the can"

Where else in the world are you going to find the kind of trusting people that sell pumpkins from their front yard and just ask you to donate what is "fair?"

I'm not saying we don't have our share of Halloweenies too. Because for every nice trusting soul who sells punkins from her driveway (and trust me, the show pumpkins were in the front), there's someone like this guy.
Obviously, he skipped a few courses while he went for his Graphic Design degree. You know it's got to be really scary with the kind of foresight and planning skills for a sign like that.

Yes, that's actual red spray paint on the "Haunted Trailer." It says Enter Hell and House from Hell. I'm not sure whether our budding October capitalist painted it or the neighbors did. Because there is nothing spookier than abandoned shit in your yard. I like to think he's in there wearing his wife beater, holding an axe and hopes all those nails he scattered on the road for the Sorority Bus work out.

You want to talk about a scary house. I was afraid to stop and take pictures during the day. I've seen how those movies turn out when the kids split up and look for clues. If it's raining and your car breaks down and you ask to use the phone at that house, you should be fighting crime for a living.You've got to have a deathwish if you set foot in that house.

But the scariest thing? The mailbox. I was afraid to open it. I'm pretty sure there aren't Superbowl tickets in there. Most likely it's a human hand inside.

Now I've got to get going. I've got my dark pick- up truck, a flashlight and a shitload of pumpkins to steal.

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Wie've Got the Beat

Dearest Michelle:

I'm sorry, but this is a very difficult for me. The time we've spent together during the past year has been fantastic. But I'm distracting you. You can't concentrate on your work. You haven't even managed to get your web site done.

Neither of us ever expected this to work out after I wrote about you. When you emailed me and we arranged to meet at the LPGA U.S. Open, sparks just flew. Sure everyone thought a 40 something and a teen golf phenom didn't have a chance. We showed them.

But I'm no good for you. Your golf game has gone to hell. You need to be practicing on the green and not sneaking our for a little night putting with me. Yes, we waited until you were street legal, but now you need to focus on college.

Your best finish this year was 69th . It was sweet of you to do that for me (and I certainly got the joke), but you need to get on with your potential. That Nike money isn't going to last forever if you don't start winning soon. And thanks for the all the clubs and shirts, but I told you, I'm a Mizuno golf man from way back.

Don't worry, Michelle. I'm sure you'll find someone else. Maybe, if my heart has mended a bit, I'll come and caddy for you at the Sony Open again. *sniff* Be strong, little Wie Wie.

Love Always,


P.S. You also need to get a little distance from your Mom & Dad too. When agents bail on you two years in a row, that's a bad sign. If you don't get your shit together, you'll be showing up places with no underwear and a shaved head. I don't understand why my exes have so much trouble getting over me.