Year 3000

As it's nearing the end of the year, I'm not giving you some crummy re-run clip show. This is actual new content. Still not very good content, but that's not the point.

Learn from our history, kids. Or your destined to repeat it. Just like that pesky 9th grade when you discovered the joys of cutting school and smoking behind the portables.

THINGS I LEARNED IN 2008

• Blagojevich rhymes with prison bitch.
• Rhesus monkeys are not filled with peanut butter.
• It's okay to stab people but not use a gun to steal football memorabilia.
• It's okay to give money to broke financial companies but not broke car companies.
• When your boss and project manager are laid off, do not believe the corporate messaging that all is well.
• The Lions suck every year but some years historically so.
• Healthy grilling does not mean that you sit in the shade with your beer and a stick.
• People will watch anything on tv: karaoke, dancing, card playing and Howie Mandel.
• The weather is only news when it happens on the East Coast.
• Never get involved in a land war in Asia.
• Dave is still funnier than Jay.
• Dogs are the only animal that will allow you to take their manhood yet will still lick your face.
• The Irish are a maudlin and annoying people. Even more so if they're your relatives.
• Excessively tapping your foot in an airport bathroom is not an expression of free speech.
• Hollywood has no ideas except for those found in comic books.
• Coldplay steals. And still sucks.
• Montana is mostly cows and not people.

That's it kids. I learned nothing else. Unless I forgot it.

Billy Don't Be a Hero

I thought I'd remind you all that I still live in Hicksville Central aka the Mild, Mild West.

Yesterday, as the Wife and I were headed out to engage in some public mastication involving rich, bacony goodness, we had a bit of a traffic problem.

Some yahoo in the left hand land was completely stopped. Now as such Sunday morn asshattery is not unknown to us, I simply shifted to the right lane and headed by the slowed pick up truck.

Which is when we saw the goat.

I'll type that again.

We saw a goat.

Standing in the left lane of the road. A five land road. Two on each side with a left turn lane in the middle. We're talking a major thoroughfare here, kids.

And this didn't look to be a wild mountain goat. He was wearing a blue collar and seemed well cared for. No, that's not him up there. I failed to tote the Canon Powershot this morn as I didn't anticipate a National Geographic encounter.

And as we headed to the post office to drop off some mail en route to the breaky joint, the goat followed us.

Which is when the dog in the back seat (Gman, for you faithful readers) saw the goat. And Guinness said, "Hey, let me out so I can go chase that goat." It just sounded like really loud whining to the non-dog talkers in the car. Luckily, I'm fluent in hairball.

I immediately posited the theory that the goat was actually employed by the Post Office to eat all the mail they didn't feel like delivering. Like everything between Nov. 26 until Jan. 3rd. But the Wife thought I was just crazy. Per uzh.

We then saw a cop and wondered if we should pull over and tell the cop about the goat roaming the streets. But I didn't feel like taking a field sobriety test before breakfast. We also rejected the idea of capturing the goat and making our own cheese. Stupid fascist homeowners association with their crummy no goat racism.

I like to think Billy eventually found his way home to his owner and they had the best post Xmas ever and attributed his return to an Xmas miracle wherein angels and bells ringing were involved. Or maybe some Jamaicans nabbed him and they'll be enjoying some curried goat as they ring in the New Year. In the end, each ending is happy when you think about it.

Enjoy the week, kids.

Autograph?

I don't know why I find this chart so hilar. But I do.

Maybe this means Santa will bring me all those video games I asked for this Xmas.


more music charts

And you thought the lists were bad....

Be afraid. Be very afraid.

Sticky Fingers

It's almost D day, kids. Well, X day anyway. You've got just a week to come up with some Xmas loot that's going to shut those kids up for a while so you can get some peace and quiet.

Sure, you could call my toll free number at 1-900-SantaMe (only $2.95 per minute) to let your kids pretend to talk to one of Santa's helpers. And if that voice on the other end has an accent that sounds suspiciously like Chinese, don't worry. The Chinese don't celebrate Xmas, but they're really our elves. Because they make all the toys. And hardly and lead in them this year.

And while Santa Claus isn't an international phenomenon (but he has aliases like Father Christmas and Kris Kringle and Jennifer Garner), around the world, kids all want the same thing: a stick.

That's Sean Morey singing in case you didn't recognize him.

Get shopping kids!

Just Another Xmas Song

If you didn't get the chance to catch the Stephen Colbert Christmas Special on Comedy Central, you can still pick up the dvd in plenty of time for the holidays. No, I'm not secretly Stephen Colbert (as far as you know) nor do I get a dime for each disc that moves.

I just appreciate funny stuff when I see it.

You can too. This is the opening.

Enjoy.

The Colbert ReportMon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c

A Colbert Christmas: Another Christmas Song

Colbert at Christmas
Colbert Christmas DVD

Green Screen
Bill O'Reilly Interview

Present Tense

I don't want to put any pressure on you, but it's only 2 weeks until Xmas. That's right, you better have something decent for that loved one in your life. Not like last year when you bought everything at the truck stop. Sure the flowers were nice, but no one wants to get jerky for the holidays. Even if it is that swell teriyaki flavor in the one pound bag.

So here are some tips (many, many tips) for your holiday shopping.

Gift Cards: Giving these are really popular right now. Stores like them because they've got your money now and with any luck your giftee will misplace it. That's just one flaw in your cunning plan. The other? Sure, you think you're getting someone something from their favorite store. You've just given them an errand. Thanks, you shouldn't have. And even worse. You've told them exactly how much they mean to you. It's a nice round figure. Do you really want that special someone to know you value your relationship at the figure of exactly $100? Didn't think so.

Pets: It seems so romantic. You get him or her a puppy. Don't. Pet shelters get more pets in January than any other months of the year. It may sound like a good idea. But when Sparky chews up her Jimmy Choo's, do you still think she'll be happy with him? Or you?

A Donation In Your Name: The ultimate scam gift. Actually not a bad idea if you're a complete cheapskate. Just get an official looking card (and you can probably download one) and tell them you made a very generous donation. You bought goats for the entire village in their name. Thanks, I'm sure those goats are much better than getting me Rock Band 2. Don't fake adopting a kid though, because you'll eventually have to pony up some more letters and a picture. Keep it simple. No goat is going to want to be your pen pal.

Lingerie: Really a gift for you not for her. And what's the deal with lingerie? Victoria's Secret? She's a man, baby. As a complete tangent, I don't get lingerie. When did lace covering ever clinch the deal for anyone? By the time in the evening wherein I might be able to see whether or not my sex kitten-elect might be wearing lingerie, I'd made up my mind a long time ago about whether we would or wouldn't. It's not like I would all of a sudden see the cat suit and say, "Nope, I'm outta here." To put it in gift giving terms, even a really great wrap job on a pair of socks isn't going to make you glad you got a pair of socks.

Clothing: A good idea in theory. Never works out in practice. First, if you get the size wrong, she thinks you think she's fat. Unless you really want to play this up and get her a size 5 and act like that's what size you think she is. She may appreciate how deluded you are. Second, people don't buy other people what they want they buy what they want them to wear. It's why women give men blazers and men give women lingerie. Don't buy for you, buy for them. But it's probably just best to avoid the temptation to get her to wear that monogrammed football jersey and go with....

Jewelry: Yeah, I don't get it. But women love the sparkly stuff. Even if it's not huge or garish, they'll love it. But it can never be too big. Yes, that's what she said.

Good luck with the shopping kids. You're going to need it.

I'd Have Voted For This Rudy

It's tonight.  Can you feel it?  The most important television event ever.  Yup, it's Rudolph.  Per uzh.  And just because they've been showing it since 1964, don't think you can miss it.  If you do miss it, your head might explode.  It's been known to happen.  I read about in on the interwebs somewhere.  I lost the link.  Sorry.

And don't think you can just watch it on DVD.  If you do that you'll miss the commercials.  And then you won't buy stuff for Xmas.  And then the terrorists win.  Besides Santa sliding down a hill on an electric shaver never gets old.

Anyway to whet your collective appetites, here's a little list for you.  You knew we'd eventually get here.

Top Ten Little Known Facts About Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer

10) Named to Barack Obama's transition team

9) Still has bitter feelings toward Bambi after working as his stunt double

8) Accused Yukon Cornelius of "naughty touch"

7) Has a restraining order against King Moonracer

6) Even more bitter than the Cavemen after losing out to a gecko for that car insurance advert

5) Frequently "dive bombs" Superman's Fortress of Solitude after Mrs. Claus' infamous taco night

4) Had nosed fixed in expensive rhinoplasty after Yukon Cornelius settlement

3) Shot at from a helicopter by Sarah Palin

2) Considers Mrs. Claus his bff.  Santa?  Not so much.

1) Still won't let Hermey touch his teeth

Enjoy the big show tonight, kids.

Tutti Rudi

Yes, I know I've written about this before. And before. I can't help it that the best thing I've ever written on this here blog is stupid stuff about clay. Suck it, monkeys. It's not a re-run; it's a classic.

But the best Xmas special in the entire world is on tomorrow (Wednesday) night at 8 PM on CBS (check local listings). Of course, I'm talking about Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. This special is older than me!

It's that great/crappy claymation and a great drinking game. Take a sip every time Rudolph's nose lights up to play "He Lights, You're Lit." It's a classic.

I've seen this show way too many times and can actually do most of the dialogue (much to the annoyance of any houseguests). And I have an appreciation for the various subtexts of the show. Despite being guised as a children's show, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer depicts the common literary theme regarding the struggle of man against

There are also, 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 educational system. Despite his superior flying skills, Rudolph is ostracized because of his infatuation with Clarice. Detail the homo-erotic undertones in the Reindeer Flight Practice.
• Why doesn't Yukon Cornelius just use his gun to shoot the Bumble? Throughout the entire show, it is appropriate to yell, "Use your gun, Yukon Cornelius!"
• Should the elves unionize? Why are they denied dental benefits?
• All the elf women are identical. Is this an argument for cloning and stem cell research?
• Clarice'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? Incontinence? Psychological instability? Depression? Multiple personalities? Transgendered? PMS?
• Charlie in the Box is undoubtedly a reference to the Vietnam War. King Moonracer is a caricature of Lyndon Baines Johnson and expansionist Asian policies. Discuss other examples of the Island of Misfit Toys undermining U.S. Foreign Policy.
• Rudolph's Mother and Clarice are initially denied joining in the 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 an indictment of global warming. Do reindeer seem a realistic replacement for fossil fuel consuming vehicles?
• 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?
• 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?
• Yukon Cornelius also carries a whip. Is he gay also? Do he and Hermey move to Vermont together after the show is over?
• Hermey the Elf is obviously gay. Does he pull the Bumble's teeth out to allow greater oral gratification? Is Hermey short for hermaphrodite?
• 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 problems and mocks LBJ's Great Society. How is fiscal irresponsibility in the federal government represented by the various misfit toys?
• Santa "delivers" the toys by throwing them from his sled. Yet the BirdFish who we have learned earlier is unable to fly is not given an umbrella and is instead thrown to his death from Santa's sleigh. Is this an indictment against genetic mutations?

Have fun tomorrow, kids! Remember to drink whenever Rudolph's nose lights up. This only makes the intellectual discussions more animated.

Blue Christmas

Well, it's finally here. Despite what the retailers have been shoving done your throat since Halloween, it's now safe to discuss Christmas without receiving a boot to the head.

Go ahead and start listening to that lame FM station that only plays carols, it's safe now.

And in Scotland, they're celebrating St. Andrews Day. By painting the sheep blue. Really. That's the celebratory baa boys over there.

The reason for this dye job according to the sheepmaster Andrew Jack is that St. Andrew is the patron saint of Scotland and that blue is the national color of Scotland. And while it's not in the article, I'm guessing liquor was involved. Probably Scotch.

Whatever.

Here in the States, you should be hard at work on your Amazon wish list for all those obscure items you need friends and family to buy you. Because it's up to us consumers to bail out the economy. If you're not giving, and giving extravagantly, the terrorists win. And our economy will suck.

So get out there and get shopping. It's only the rampant consumerism and endless repetition of holiday specials that makes the season meaningful.

Here's my list so far:

• Every Xbox 360 game released between Oct. 31 and Dec. 24
• Radioactive spider traps (how else am I going to get my super powers)
• A real live football team for Detroit (clearly, the Lions aren't working out this year)
• A singing Elvis robot
• Bacon Tuxedo (so classy for that New Year's event)
• Some sweet pirate stuff

Oh, and I'll probably want some stupid stuff too.

What do you want for xmas, kids?

Turkey in the Straw

I realize that we've discussed on prior occasions the joy that is the Thanksgiving prank.

But I have heard about a new one for your turkey this year.

Cut an onion in half.  Loosen the skin on the breast of your turkey.  Slide in the onion halves on opposing sides of the breast bone.  Viola, your own baked in implants.

As the turkey cooks, the onions stay in place and you can provide your bird with a statuesque profile.

Enjoy the day kids.

Hit Me With Your Best Shot

I don't want to pile on the Detroit Lions. Well, yes, I do. One of the worst franchises in all of sports. Run by a rich, old owner who apparently doesn't give a damn about whether the team wins or loses. Currently winless in the NFL and with a chance at history as the first team to go 0 and 16 in a season.

Enjoy your first loss of the season Tennessee Titans. Don't worry, you'll get right back on track with the Lions this Thursday.

How bad is it for the Lions?

After the loss to Tampa Bay on Sunday (including blowing a 17 point lead), fans have taken to half-naked wrestling in the parking lot.

Enjoy.



Boy, those guys could use a Lipovox prescription couldn't they?

Pretty Fry for a White Guy

As threatened, in advance of the official US Turkey day, here are some snaps from the illicit, non-league sanctioned Turkey Day we did in advance of my departure to Mexico.

We actually cooked two birds: one injected with Creole Butter, the other just plain.

This is the Initial Danger Phase. I'm dropping the bird into oil that's about 375 F.

You cook that bad boy for 3.5 minutes per pound. And because you try to use a bird that's no bigger than 12 pounds (or you'll send that hot oil over the sides of the pot and onto the propane flame), it's typically done in about 45 mins or less.

Get your appetite suppressant because this is what he looks like before the diners tear into it.

That leg looks a little askew as I was trying to get him out of the oil and into the serving tray with a little too much vigor apparently.

It was well received. At least this picture would indicate.

Yeah, not much left. And one guy in our group made the turkey his screen saver. That's high praise from the geek squad.

Try not to make snarky comments about Meemaw's really dry turkey on Thursday. Just think about that frozen turkey pot pie and bottle of Wild Turkey you have waiting for you at home.

So what's everyone else's plans for Thursday? Other than watching the Lions get blown out of course.

Vacation All I Ever Wanted

Sorry, folks. Blog's closed. Moose out front should have told you.

Yes, Wife and I are even now winging our way southward to a land of mystery, ancient ruins and boat drinks. Not in that order of course.

In the meantime, you can review some of my silly shit greatest hits in the archives over there.

Don't worry, intertube friends. I'll be back in a week and writing about boobies and bacon and other nonsense before you know it.

Later ya'll.

Fryday

While some of you are probably still recovering from your Halloween induced diabetic coma, some of us are on to bigger and better things. Like Thanksgiving.


Is there any better salute to gluttony than Turkey Day? For our non-North American readers out there, Thanksgiving is the day we celebrate what we have by gorging ourselves with food. It was started by the Pilgrims who celebrated surviving the godawful weather of the Northeast by taking the Native American's land but letting them have casinos. While the tradition has evolved some over the years, every Thanksgiving Americans gather together to watch a parade, hope a balloon gets loose, watch the Lions lose and re-enact the first scene of Se7en.


So at work today, we're having a little pot luck celebration in advance of Thanksgiving. This reporter will be frying a turkey. Because nothing says thanks like 4 gallons of hot oil. It's the danger that makes it so delicious.


I may just have to run down to the store and pick up a little bacon while I'm at it.

Happy Friday, kids! Anyone else up to anything good today?


Oh and you'd better go read that diet pill review after all that food.

Once Bit Twice Shy

If you recently got a law degree from Baylor University, you're in some august company. No matter what the employment industry says, we can never have too many lawyers.

This lawyer is special though. He's a dog.

Yes, Skeeter, a black labrador retriever, has been "attending" law school with his mistress Amy Jones ever since she was injured in an accident. Too bad he's not a beagle. Because then he'd be a legal, ah nevermind. Way too easy.

When Amy got her law degree, Skeeter also received an honorary degree. Awww, I'm sure he's a big sweetie. Please say that aloud in your best dog voice just to annoy your fellow cube dwellers.

And according to the story, sometimes Skeeter would even growl during a professor's lecture. Personally, I'd have used that growl to scare the profs off from calling on me. Or maybe just a little errant tinkle to let the prof know how much we appreciate their attempts at humor. Yes, I'm talking to you, Professor Dobbs.

I wonder what kind of cases Skeeter will take?

• Dog bites (of course, he's a natural)
• Divorce (wouldn't you like to sic an attack dog on your soon to be ex?)
• Drug possession prosecution (he can sniff out the guilty party)
• Principal & Agency (he's used to dealing with the discharge of a fiduciary duty)
• Medical Malpractice (who'd be better at dealing with doctors than someone who's been neutered?)

He'd be a lousy negotiator though. You could get anything you want if you just rub his belly. Surprisingly, this is the same tactic the NFL used with former Player's Association executive director, Gene Upshaw.

Every Picture Tells a Thousand Stories

If you're going to be anywhere near Hailey, Idaho, be sure to check out the Chester Jakes restaurant in the Mint Bar. Because that's where all the action was happening on Halloween. At least for Lori Brutsche-Ely.

It seems Lori was having a bit of fun on Halloween when it got out of control.


When a security guard told her he'd called the cops (and my favorite security guard joke: "Stop or I'll yell stop again!") Lori decided that would be the perfect time to take off her clothes in the bar.


Then when the cops came to get her, she punched one in the chest. That's typically a beating. Even if you are nakey.


Then when she got to the jail, she bit a deputy (bad dog, grrrrr). I suggest going with either the always popular "I pay your salary!" or frequent use of the term Barney.


Oh, and then Lori managed to set off the fire sprinkler and flood her cell. That's the trifecta.

You may also be shocked to learn that alcohol was involved. I'm very surprised given that mug shot above. That will make a great Xmas card.


Pat Dailey said it best. You don't have to be drunk to be an asshole. But it sure helps.

Parents Just Don't Understand

To the growing list of Things I Don't Get:

1. Twittering Kitties
2. Watching other people do things on tv that you can do in real life (dancing, card playing, being talentless)
3. Why the airlines hate us
4. The hubbub over gay marriage
5. Why anyone wants the key word hotel las vegas
6. The NFL Network
7. The Big Ten Network
8. Excessively Ostentatious Greed
9. Weezer
10. Any High School Musical
11. People Who Put Up Xmas Lights Before Thanksgiving
12. The Bailout
13. Amy Winehouse
14. How they decide what movies get made
15. Why people cheer for Kobe Bryant
16. Women's fascination with shoes and jewelry
17. Men's fascination with televised sports
18. Why Tony Kornheiser still lives
19. Why AIG Executives still live
20. How Alan Greenspan got so dumb so quickly
21. Why commercial radio sucks
22. How people live without an iPod
23. Why only 4 out of 5 dentist recommend sugar free gum
24. Rachel Ray's laugh
25. Why we don't get Veteran's Day off
26. Why we don't get 9/11 off
27. Organized religion
28. The mind of an Engineer
29. Who invented liquid soap and why
30. The Detroit Lions ineptitude

That is all. Please return to your appointed toil. Thank you.

I Want to Hold Your Hand

In what is surely one of the best headlines of the year (bless you CNN):

Women germier than men, study finds

Apparently, for some articles the interns get to do the headlines. I mean "germier?" And the needless comma? Couldn't the study just have been the noun. But I guess anytime you can make up a word like germier, you go with it. If you say it like its French, it sounds a little classier. And may actually be a new hair product.

Anyhoo, by taking DNA from the palms of 51 college students, researchers determined that women (at least in this study) have more bacteria on their palms than men. Mmm, I wonder if they found anything other than bacteria on the palms of male college students? Yeah, probably ink.

The average hand has 150 species of bacteria. EVERYBODY PANIC. And put down that Egg McMuffin.

Scientists aren't sure why women have more bacteria on their hands. It may be because male skin is more acidic or some other scientific mumbo jumbo about sweat glands. The end of it is, they don't know. But I do and I'll tell you. I learned it long ago in in third grade.

GIRLS ARE THE SOURCE OF ALL COOTIES EVERYWHERE

This is your only defense.

Now enjoy the weekend, kids. And go wash your hands before supper.

Backfield in Motion

You'll probably want to go ahead and set up your Swivel Search for this now. If you hadn't heard, Keyshawn Johnson is getting his own tv show.

Who, you may be asking, the hell is Keyshawn Johnson?

He's a current talking head on ESPN after having been a wide receiver in the NFL for 11 years. He played for the Jets, Cowboys, Buccaneers and Panthers if you care for some reason. He was kind of famous for a while for yelling at another player on the sideline of a game. I think he may also have invented the Plantar Fasciitis injury. He eventually pissed off his coach so much (Jon Gruden aka Chuckie) that Gruden made him inactive for the last 8 games of the season to teach him a lesson. Obviously one that didn't take.

Anyway the show is called Keyshawn Johnson: Tackling Design. Yup, Keyshawn is going to get a tv show about interior design. It'll be on A&E with that lot of home improvement shows. I don't watch as I don't crave depression.

You may be asking, why what are Keyshawn's qualifications as an interior designer? Well he did attend USC and got a degree in history in 1996 (if you believe TV Guide anyway). And he has stayed in "some of the best hotels in the world" and read some architecture books. So that probably makes him as qualified to do interior design as it does to announce for ESPN.

Anyhoo, before we adopted the tactic of excessive punctuation for tv show titles (you know, like Denise Richards: It's Complicated or Nip/Tuck), here was the short list of show titles for Keyshawn:

• Tschotckeyshawns
• Inferior Lineman
• Tackling Chapter 7
• Trojan House Design
• Footballers to the Wall
• A Buccaneer in my Buckin' Home
• Referee Shui
• Decorate Man Line
• Football Fantasy Retreat
• Design With Your Inner Johnson

I'm sure Keyshawn will bring many bold ideas to home design. Things like excessive use of decorative pom poms, urinals, that locker room smell and Personal Seat Licenses for your couch. Oops, I think Danny Snyder just stole that idea to make me watch Redskins games at home.

If you have any other ideas for Keyshawn's new show, pass them along to him directly. I'm sure they'll appreciate all the feedback.

Dirt Devil Went Down To Georgia?

We can all hop off the political treadmills now. We can start ignoring the erectile dysfunction and furniture sale commercials instead of the political commercials. Hope your candidate/proposal won and that you voted for him, her or it as many times as you could.


Now that the pesky political process is out of the way for a while, we can get down to important news: Weird Stuff in Michigan. Yes, there is more going on back in Michigan than Kwame being in the joint, additional sext messages getting released and Chrysler joining GM. It's time for important news.


In Saginaw, police arrested a man for having sex with a vacuum cleaner. I'll say that one more time while you clean the Diet Coke off your computer monitor. Police arrested a man for "receiving sexual favors" from a vacuum cleaner. At a car wash. At 6:45 in the morning. Yes, there's a lot going on there.


We can probably all agree you've got to really want it if you're up to those kind of hijinx before 7:00 in the morning. Wonder if he was late to work at the comic book store?

And you know that vacuum cleaner probably wanted it.

With that conveniently located change machine and wide open mouth. Clearly, this is consensual. I wonder what a man and a vacuum cleaner could have been doing? Hmmm, maybe someone can enlighten me. Probably his car mats.


Now granted, I've never been aroused by industrial car wash equipment so I can't really relate to this young man. But if you're into that and you're 29 years old, you probably live in your parent's basement and have never kissed a girl.


So trust me, young pre-vert. Wait for a real live girl. They're much more fun to cuddle with at 6:45 am and you won't need 4 quarters.

Do That To Me One More Time

Remember, if you don't vote, you're a moron.

The Waiting Is The Hardest Part

Is there anything sadder than taking down Halloween decorations? Screw it. I'm just going to leave the tree up in the office.

It may be sadder to see how many of those Reese's Peanut Butter Cup wrappers wound up on the floor. No wonder I smell peanut butter everywhere.

You'll be unhappy to know that police were out in force this weekend. Yes, they managed to snag the scofflaws in Boulder. The headline of the year is probably:

Naked pumpkin runners ticketed in Colorado

You can have my pumpkin when you pry it from my cold, dead, naked hand. I don't know how they can charge these people with a crime. They won't even have identification.

And don't worry kids, only 1 more day of election crap. You'll be glad to know that the Salt Lake Tribune doesn't think Barack is the Anti-christ. I'm not making this up. Thanks for clarifying that. I was kind of on the fence, but knowing Obama is not the Anti-Christ makes this a much easier decision.

I avoided the line and already mailed in my ballot. We also have early voting here in Utah. But in Utah I don't think they even count them. We just go red and are done with it. Have fun voting kids!

Now as a reward for doing your civic duty, enjoy this video of the Naked Pumpkin run. Only watch if you're going to vote. It's the honor system. Just like voting in Chicago.

Fashion

As threatened, here are some snaps from the Big Halloween Bash.

The entrance to our Graveyard of Doom.

The cubedwellers one row over turned their row into Oz.  You can kinda see the Tin Man there.  That's the Yellow Brick Road on the floor and it wrapped all the way around their cubes.

Of course, what would Oz be without the Lollipop Guild?

The Tornado that took us to Oz.

Those meddlin' kids are here too.

There's a time for everyone and this time was for The Dude.

Some people go all out. 

Even on their desk.

Whomever owns this, I'm guessing is single.

The Accounting Department has Pac Man fever.

Dressing up your animals is wrong.  But I love Count Dogula.

Part of the denizen of the Graveyard.  That's supposed to be a Candycane, Crazy Cat Lady, Aquaman, SuperBen, and a Convict.

With Indy and a Pirate or two.  That's all of us.

Monster Mash

It's finally here! The most wonderful day of the year. The day we confuse kids who we've warned endlessly not to take candy from strangers are allowed to go door to door whilst costumed and take candy from strangers.

The folks at Datacon where I toil in ignominy take Halloween really seriously. Costume contest, cube decorating contest, pumpkin decorating contest, trick or treating. And all for big, big prizes like Amex gift cards ($250!) and extra vacation days. Yes, they do it up.

That's the entrance to our cubeville over there. We're doing a graveyard theme. Mostly we just sit still at our cubes and barely move. Yes, it's like most weekdays then.

Yeah, we're not accomplishing anything today. Unless you count Twizzlers for breakfast as an accomplishment.

So what did everyone dress up as? I'm Aquaman. Depending upon how embarrasing the pix are, you might be exposed to that later.

Enjoy the candy, kids!

Runaround Sue

It's time to head to Boulder, Colorado for another great Halloween tradition.

Much better than Devil's Night in Detroit where they put the torch to things. Though if a Bear Stearns office were to get torched, I'm sure arson investigators might not be too inclined to bust hump on the case. But I'm not advocating burning out the greedheads, that would be wrong.

So let's focus on happy thoughts. Like naked people running in the streets.

Yes, in Boulder, it's the 10th Annual Naked Pumpkin Run.

Essentially you carve a pumpkin so it fits over your head and then you run nakey down the street. We call those weekends at the Kennedy Compound. Hiyo!

And this does take some planning. You've got to build up enough courage to run around nakey while retaining enough dexterity to carve your pumpkin. That's a delicate balance that eludes most of the streaking drunks I've ever encountered. Then you've got to manage to keep the pumpkin on your head while running around.

While do I have the feeling that out of 150 participants in last year's run, it was 149 guys and one co-ed with low self-esteem?

Let's hope one of our faithful readers can score some snapshots of the, umm, celebration. And not the drunk frat boys.

It's Time to Start the Music

Continuing with the distraction that is All Hallow's Eve, if you're in Germany, a muppet might be a good costume this year.

It seems that an English driver in Germany keeps speeding by the ticketing cameras.
Unfortunately for the cops, because it's an English car, they can't get a shot of the driver.

All they get driver side on the right of the car, they can keep getting a picture of a muppet. And they can't even identify the muppet.

That's him in the passenger seat. Is that Animal, Grover, Ernie, Cookie Monster or a Muppet To Be Named Later?

Or if you don't want to be a muppet, you can always go with the Fireman or the Nurse. Because it turns out those are the two professions which top the list of sexual fantasies in England.

Actually for women, the top fantasy professions are firemen, soldiers, businessmen, doctors then footballers. For men, it's nurses, maids and flight attendants.

So ladies, get out your tea light candles, slip into your maid outfit, accidentally knock a candle over so you have to call the fire department and you're all set.

What's everyone going to dress up as? You've only got 48 hours kids. Check local listings.

I'm a Picking And I'm a Grinning

We'll continue our Halloween theme. That's because I'm hepped up on Pixie Stix and Smartees. Luckily, there's no sugar in Pixie Stix. Wuh?

Instead, we formally present the recipe for Boogers on a Stick.

All you need is a jar of processed cheese, some pretzel rods, green food coloring and some wax paper.

Heat up the jar of processed cheese in some hot water until it's smooth. Add the green food coloring until you reach the color of snot you desire. Dip in your pretzels. Set those on the wax paper to harden up.

Pretty complicated, eh? Remember kids, don't try this at home without adult supervision. And if you just happen to have a jar of processed cheese at your house and don't need to make a special trip out to get one, you probably need to adjust your diet.

Have fun grossing our your friends.

And feel free to share your other disgusting foods just in time for Halloween!

Transylvania 6-5000

From the genius that is Heywood Banks.

To a tune you might recognize.

You better not scream
You'd better be scared
His collar is up
His speech is impaired
Count Dracula is coming to town.

He flies through the night
Flapping his cape
Chewing on necks
He doesn't like stakes
Count Dracula is coming to town.

Now if the sun is shining
You know that he is sleeping
And if you hold a cross to him
It's gonna hurt his feelings

Hot tub of blood
You've seen him on Cribs
Doing that damn
Transylvania Twist
Count Dracula is coming to town

He must use echolocation
To see to fly and land
And if he bites your jugular
Better check your health care plan.

He snoozes in dirt
Hangs from his heels
Dresses in black
Sleeps between meals
Count Dracula is coming to town.

He's got those sharp bicuspids
With those hands so clammy
And if he flies into your room
You're gonna crap your jammies.

Ohhhhhhhh
You'd better not scream
You'd better be scared
His collar is up
His speech is impaired
Count Dracula is coming to town.

On Costuming

Ladies, you're officially on notice. National Dress Like a Hoor (that's two syllables by the way) Day is only a week away. You may know it as Halloween. You get to dress like a slut and no other girl can say anything about it. That's not just me talking. It's from Mean Girls. And since Tina Fey wrote that and may be our next Vice President, it must be true.

So go nuts.

With the right costume people at work may not even know who you are. One of my friends dressed as a cow and got away with walking up to CEO with a baby cow doll and said, "This is your baby." She had the baby cow doll, not the CEO. Of course he might not have known her even if she hadn't been dressed up as a cow but that's not the point.

You get a free pass. You can completely dress like a slut and no one can penalize you for it. You know that dress you think is just a little too tight. Wear it. Don't even think about propriety. Release your inner stripper.

You don't even have to be creative. Just put "naughty" in front of any profession and you've got a costume. Naughty Nurse, Naughty Accountant, Naughty Actuary. Naughty Researcher. Naughty Medical Billing Assistant. Naughty Nun. It doesn't have to make sense. Just be daring.

Sure you have enough sense not to dress like this any other day of the year. But this isn't any other day of the year. This is the day you get to be a little daring, show off the goods and maybe actually even talk to that cute boy down the hall. Because he's going to be dressed like a woman today. Try not to make too much of the latent homosexuality. You can get him to come around. As far as you know.

Now get working on your costume. And if you're lucky, you'll be able to score a glow in the dark kitty to complete the ensemble.



Kitties, they're the ultimate fashion accessory.

Cat Scratch Fever

Oh, PETA. How I enjoy your media hogging antics. No matter how stupid they are and how ridiculous and impractical they might be. Like breast milk ice cream.

This time they're trying to keep us from eating fish. Slimy, smelly, worm-lunching fish. Comes in sticks or at Long John Silver's. You may have heard of it.

And their great PR ploy? They're going to try to trick us into calling them Sea Kittens. Yeah, that's going to work. Because if I think it's cute and cuddly, I won't want to dive into a big platter of breaded goodness with some french fries. Nice try, hacks.

I figure if some PR weasels can try to tell us to rename something that already has a perfectly good name, why not me.

As of now, I'm forming another organization. It's called PETA. People Eating Tasty Animals.

And we're starting with sushi for lunch.

This is the only sea kitty you out to be worried about. If you see that adorable critter at the beach, I hope you're Michael Phelps.

The Bunny Hop

If you're in Phoenix, you may have already run afoul of these dastardly scofflaws. Yes, police are warning Phoenicians to be on the lookout for, wait for it, THE FLUFFY BUNNY CREW.

This gang is described as being "predominantly white suburban young people." Where do the stereotypes come from?

And the Fluffy Bunny Crew even brags about their exploits online aka web banging at social networking sites.

Well, if they're white and from the suburbs, maybe the cops should stake out the Abercrombie & Fitch. They could hide out in the back. You know, where A&F puts all the people they deem not pretty enough to work the floor.

Now I'll confess to having been a gang banger when I was younger. Luckily, I got out before things escalated. But we were into our colors (blue) and our knives (pocket). You probably ran into us. We wuz the B. Scoutz. We used to tag houses with their correct street numbers and were always ready for trouble. You could even say we were always prepared.

Luckily, Phoenix police have brought in a specialist on organized gangs, Detective E. Fudd, is pitching in on the case. But then you'd probably expect Detective Fudd to be where ever there's a Fluffy Bunny. And he'll be strapped.


Police have also noted a rise in other suburban, white gangs. Please be on the look out for:

• Da Kare Bearz
• Lil' R Ridin in da Hood
• Pugnacious Prepsters
• Didactic Debaters
• Illin' Ivy Leaguers
• Mad Plaidz
• Soccer Suckaz
• Future C.E.No You Diduntts
• Trust Fund Bustin' Babiez
• Barbarian Barristers
• Illin' Legal Eagles
• Lacrosse Me At Your Peril
• Gang Golfers
• Vixen Volvo-drivers

Luckily, at least these gangs aren't tied in with the rash of religious gangs.

Please feel free to be on the lookout in your area and report any other suspicious, suburban, white gang activity to this blog.

That is all.

If You Want To Be Happy For the Rest of Your Life

There's lots of things I don't get: liquid soap, Twittering, televised bad karoake, the icy grip that procedural crime dramas have on the American psyche. But I really don't get all the opposition to gay marriage.

Because I work on the intertubes (making the world a better place one website at a time), I periodically get asked to do thing that are stupid. Or just repugnant. So when I got asked to do some search engine optimization for a site advocating Proposition 8, I might have done exactly what they wanted.

Prop 8, if you hadn't heard, is a California proposal that will make marriage equal one man and one woman. Essentially, they're trying to outlaw gay marriage by defining what is marriage. And we're going to take our cues from California? Seriously, they've got it all figured out? Taking your political direction from California is like asking O.J. Simpson for legal advice. Sure there's some prior experience, but is that really the direction you want to go?

Now, I don't know that much, but if the only thing you have to worry about is whether two people are doing whatever it is that makes them happy, you need to wake up. Really, that's your biggest concern? Log on and check your 401k; that'll give you something to worry about. I don't have a 401k anymore, it's a 201k.

Anyhow, when I got asked for some suggestions for keywords to help this site get some traffic, I'm not they got what they wanted.

Possible suggestions:

• homophobes
• latent homosexuality
• oppressors
• majority tyranny
• slow
• dim-witted
• lame

You get the idea.

Now I'm probably not going to change anyone's opinion with this little diatribe. And wow, I haven't even worked in a dick joke or a bacon reference yet. Clearly, I'm off my game. But gay people should have the same right to be miserable that everyone else does. Once you finally meet that person you want to drive crazy the rest of your life, you should be able to do it no matter their sexual orientation. Why should the breeders be the only people with the chance to give away half their stuff after 5 to 7 years?

And I'm really looking forward to my first gay wedding. That's going to be like a pageant! It'll make the Orange Bowl half time show look like an elementary school production of Fiddler on the Roof. Talk about a boost for the economy. Do you have any idea how much money ice sculptors are going to be pulling in once gay marriage is the norm? I'm already taking lessons to be able to cash in.

But many people are missing out on the best part of legalized gay marriage. The gay marriage divorce reality shows which are sure to come.

You think Judge Joe is entertaining? Just wait.

Mr. Roboto

If you don't think you can be replaced, you're wrong.

Bandai just announced a Robot Blogger.

Damn dirty mechs!

I'm not worried. No robot will be able to fixate on women's chests, drool over bacon and engage in puntastic toungefoolery like yours truly.

That being said, I'm going to burn my Terminator dvd's just to be on the safe side.

Fight the machines, soft ones! And you'd better learn all the words to this.

I'm So Distracted And I Just Can't Hide It

[F]oxymoron, sporting pictures of a one legged pigeon, tagged/distracted me. And like any good corporate drone, I do precisely what I'm told. No more, no less. No good. Wait. Nevermind.

Let's get on with the exercise in distraction. It's the Rule of 7. Seven random things about yours truly. Try to stay awake. I'm my least favorite subject as the story of my life, surprisingly, is based upon a true story. The characterization sucks though. Hey, what do you expect from an episode of the Red Shoe Diaries?

1. I have a healthy obsession with office supplies and have the ability to blow a lunch hour at an Office Max like that. I own more Sharpies than anyone I know. Big ones, fat ones, small ones. I can't get enough.

2. I can cook. Really cook. I decided when I was single that I didn't like eating crummy food. So I learned. And I probably have over 200 cookbooks now. So many that I won't buy another one. I do all the cooking for the Wife and I. She doesn't complain even when I dirty seemingly every dish in the house making lasagna with smoked sausage.

3. I know more worthless movie trivia than anyone I know. Not useful stuff like naming all the Hitchcock movies or discerning the differences between Fellini and Kurasawa. Worthless stuff. Like the lead's actresses' name in Just One of the Guys or which Sixteen Candles star also was in Spacehunter: Adventures in the Forbidden Zone. Nothing useful. Just clutter in my head. Oh, Joyce Hyser and Molly Ringwald. It's a gift.

4. I'm a morning person. Seriously, I rarely sleep past 5:30 am. Even on weekends. So I dogwalk, kill on the Xbox, write posts, read the interwebs papers and otherwise waste time while I'm the only one in the entire world awake. Oh, and once I wake up, I can't ever go back to sleep. I wake up like a Nam survivor with flashbacks. From unconscious to wide awake.

5. I'm an ex-lawyer. Really, I reformed when I found Jesus. Okay, really, clients are super-annoying. I liked 3% of it (the arguing in court and engaging in legalistic tonguefoolery) and hated 97% of it (the clients). So I stopped.

6. My most significant Brush With Greatness was meeting Michael Palin in Northern Michigan while he was filming a BBC special about Ernest Hemingway. As I had just finished reading his book, Hemingway's Chair, it was somewhat spooky. I did not expect to bump into a member of Monty Python at the Best Western in Petoskey, Michigan. I also refute that I ran across the parking lot yelling, "Mr. Palin, Mr. Palin" at the top of my lungs despite the Wife's recollection.

When we later ran into him at dinner (it's a small town) he came over to say hello under less odd circumstances. I asked if he was stalking us and actually made him laugh.

7. My favorite sport is college basketball. Maybe because I went to Michigan State. Magic Johnson is an alum you may have heard of. Maybe because they have an actual playoff that is the best sporting event in the world. Much nicer than asking media types to just vote on who they think is the best. I'm talking to you BCS.

Now I'm supposed to tag 7.

Here they be: Reinging Frog, Kimmay, Wicked H, Kit Kat, Arjewtino, BAMF, and Miss Kris.

Hey, blame [F]oxymoron, not me.

Who's The Leader Of the Club?

In new New Zealand news, a man has been sentenced to 180 hours of community service for cruelty to a mouse. Which he pulled out of a woman's cleavage. And pretended to eat it and accidentally killed it.

Okay, there's a lot going on here.

Lindsay Rowles was the man and he pled guilty to the charges of animal cruelty and offensive behavior. A charge of indecent assault was dropped in return for the plea bargain. You can be charged with offensive behavior? Yankees fans have been getting away with this for years! Hiyo.

But the most important part of the story is completely ignored by the reporter on this story.

Why was a mouse in a woman's cleavage?

Granted, it was probably a titmouse. But does that make her an M cup? Granted all creatures like to snuggle in a nice, warm, cozy, bounteous, nippleicious bunch of cleavage. Especially men. But if I see a mouse peeking out from a woman's breasticles, it's my obligation, nay duty, to leap to her defense and protect her from the trespassing rodentia. Is that a mouse in your shirt or are you just glad to see me?

In fact, that would make a pretty good PS3 game where you put the smack down on wave after wave of chest trespassing rodents. It combines violence with boobies which is really the sweet spot for most videogamers.

I don't know what's going on here, but we've clearly got an infestation of vermin in the chesticles of the women of this planet. You may remember Batgirl who found a bat in her bra. First, England, now New Zealand. It's obviously a spreading epidemic.

There's only one option. We must set a trap for these interlopers. To prevent disease and rabies and nesting in the naughty bits, we must act and act now. We can't wait for our government to study this to death, appoint a blue ribbon commission to do fact finding and then issue a large bailout check loaded with pork. We should have just put that 700 billion on our credit card so we could have gotten the points anyway.

This post will serve as the official formation of the Mouse Mammary Members. We will spend every waking moment hidden within the breasts of women and laying in wait for interloping vermin. Hopefully laying a lot. In wait. Lots and lots of waiting right there.

Now we just need a few women to help us set our trap.

Don't be shy about volunteering, ladies. We're only doing this to keep you safe. I hope you appreciate the sacrifice.

Now let's fall out and take off those bras for a surprise infestation inspection.

I Believe I Can Fly

The Wife is out of town for a few days visiting her parents. So I'm outnumbered in the man v. beast category around the Shaque D'amour. Currently it's Dogs 2, Humans 1. Of course some have suggested that it'll just be three of us sitting on the floor eating bacon.


Which is completely untrue. Last night it was chicken. And we all were watching baseball. Playoff baseball. Some of us even had on more than just underwear. Socks count as clothing you know.


But even though I've had to switch to the zone defense to try to prevent the double team, I'm unable to keep watch on both Hell Hounds all the time. And apparently, the wee one, Tiki, has learned to fly. Yes, you read that correctly.


See we have to put the tiny tot into a holding cell during the day as he's so young he can't get his shots yet: Rabies, Rubella, Mumps, Bordatella. I'm unsure of the specifics obviously. Which means we can't just inflict him upon some unsuspecting Dog Day Care because of their silly rules about disease and such.


So during the day for short periods of time until we can return home to cater to his every whim at lunch and dinner and coffee breaks and conference calls, he goes in The Mormon Vault. I'm not making this up.


The houses out here in God's Country have a sort of built in downstairs pantry wherein The Chosen store food in preparation for the End of Days or the Rapture or the election of Obama. I'm not certain how much food they're supposed to be squirrelling away. It's either 3 months or a year. Instead we squirrel away our Tiki Monster. It's like a concrete closet which I've cleverly MacGuyvered a dog gate to with the use of plastic clothing container and picture wire around some exposed studs. Seriously, I have made skillz in terms of juryrigging crap. I didn't even have to use duct tape on this one.


But the other day, Tiki went over the wall. Which is some mad Great Escape for someone without opposable thumbs. Because while the dog door has an opening wherein the containee beast can enter into, it latches. With a sliding piece of plastic held in place by a spring. So there's really no way a dog could open it with his mouth. He'd have to slide the plastic piece over and hold it in place while pulling up on the latch. Impossible.


When we got home, the gate door was open and Tiki had romped and frolicked to great joy within the many treasures contained in our basement and enjoyed snacking upon various and sundry delicacies like Xbox 360 headsets and furnace filters. Now I know there's no way my very responsible Wife could have been so distracted by a squirming, flying-power-hiding puppy and would have left the gate unlatched. So he must be able to fly.


Now I've got to go so I can hook up a camcorder to nab some video of him soaring around the basement. Because that's going to be really popular on Youtube.


I could be wrong of course. They may be some other logical explanation for how he busted out of the joint.


Like he could be telekinetic.