What's The Matter With Kids Today?

File this under Utah--Things That Are Different.

When you're done watching that Big Love re-run and commenting about how many things they got wrong and giving the wives the old mattress workout, head on down to the Jazz game this Monday for Family Night.

Sure, it's just the crummy Washington Wizards.

But you can get 6 tickets and 6 hot dogs for only $84. Yup, Family Night for is 6. Where do all the jokes come from? That's the swell ad over there from Sunday's paper.

And that advert doesn't specific that it's for a hubby and wife and 4 kids. You can bring all 5 of your wives. As long as you've got an extra to babysit the kids your ditching at home.

This is the kind of stuff that makes me miss Detroit. Especially when they had Handgun and Hard Liquor night at the Palace. We called those Tuesdays.

Get Your Wieners Running

Sure my friends tease me about having two wives or not being able to sit next to drunk people on the train. But Utah does have the Trax and the crazy people and the homeless people love to sit by me whenever I ride.

Sure Utah doesn’t have a mayor who likes to sext to his Chief of Staff on his city-supplied Blackberry. And you know they made jokes during their trysts. I’m imagining something like when Annette Bening is having sex with Peter Gallagher in American Beauty, but instead Kwame Kilpatrick is having Christine Beatty say “I’m your Chief of Staff. I’m your Chief of Staff.”

And Utah lakcs a governor whose limousine has a bumper sticker that says “I’d rather be whorin" and "This limo brakes for all ho's."

Nor does it have a an-exgov-now-gay who allegedly had threesomes with someone on his staff (so to speak) and his wife. And you know they've got his laptop computer where it's got "3sum @ Friday's" on every Friday for a couple of years in his calendar.


But Utah does have the most important thing any state should have. Of course I'm talking 'bout the Wiener Nationals. Yes, before next Friday's game between the Jazz and the Spurs, there will be dauschhund dashing before the game. And the qualifiers get to be in the finals during half time. As this game in going to be televised on TNT, you may want to set your TIVO to see if you can catch the half-time festivities. Because who wants to see Sir Charles run his jib when you can see some fast wieners going head to head.

Or is that what Mrs. McGreevey said? C'mon, you didn't really think I could go an entire post about racing Wiener dogs and not make a cheap dick joke did you? Mea culpa.

So get on out to the Wiener Nationals and enjoy the majesty and grace that is wiener racing. You'll be glad you did. I just hope none of those pooches are popping the 'roids like in last years race. And remember, if a Wienerdog goes into the crowd, don't throw him back. He's yours to keep.

Let's Get Physical

(in which our hero is violated)

Hiya, kids. Long time, no blog. That's because I'm still recuperating from my last visit to the dominatrix doctor.

Because I've recently relocated to the Land of Zion, I am without health care professionals for things like medical advice, contact lenses, haircuts and the like. Luckily, I rectified (and I do mean rectified) one of those issues this week.

There comes a time in a man's life where he is subjected to more introspection and diagnosis than which he has become accustomed to. I'm typing, of course, about prostate exams.

Now I don't know who originally thought this exam up. I relate this story not as some badge of courage because I know we men will never stack up to the indignities you women suffer in boob-squashing and vajayjay spelunking. Rather, it's only to offer up the sacrifice we make to live longer. In an era in which there is a for everything including putting lead in your pencil, that we test for prostate erratica with a digit in the derriere is beyond me. But thanks to the magic that is known as co-pay, for a mere $15 (check local listings), I was able to have a strange woman touch the testes and put her finger up my ass. If only I could have gotten her to wear a corset, buy me dinner first, take her time, and talk dirty to me, it would have been a great start to the day.

Instead, I started Monday morning with my exam. I'll skip ahead to the sexy part where I am naked and bent over an examination table. Because my eyes are focused on the plain wall, I don't bother to look back in fear or anxiety. Instead, I can hear my new doctor (and let's face it, if you're getting a new doc, she should earn her money right away) apply some type of lubricant to her rubber glove. This is neither an attractive sound nor does it inspire confidence in my soul.

Whilst I feel her begin to probe in an area that is nowhere near where she needs to be, I'm a bit concerned. She is very high on the target. I'm trying to put this delicately, but her tee shot is pretty far over the green and not near the hole. I immediately think, "How long has it been since she took Anatomy 101?" As I feel her work her way southward, I can tell that despite the noise, she hasn't used enough lube.

Now I've had this exam done one time before. And I always mark it on my calendar in Big Red Letters so I have something to look forward to every Winter. And the last time this was performed my Doc used enough lube for me to be in a gay porn movie. This was not that time.

As I tried to relax, I heard my new doc say, "Your prostate is really high." This is code for, "I'm up to my elbow and I got nothing." While I resisted the urge to ask her if I can keep the watch, she finally checked my lonely walnut and withdrew. She threw me a towel and said, "Clean yourself up, bitch." I'm not sure if that's exactly what she said as I couldn't make out her words over the crying.

Luckily, my ass seems to be in impeccable health. And while I may have suffered degradation that few outside of prison or the movie Deliverance, it could have been worse. I could have been giving that exam. How would you like to start your Monday morning that way?

All I know is that the next time I'm feeling unsexy, I'm going to spend another $15 and make my poor doc check out my naughty bits again. I'll bring the carry out this time.