Fly Like An Eagle

Reason #378 why Utah Rocks:

We gots Falcons. Nesting in our downtown office buildings. Bet they don't have this in Hotlanta.

And you can watch them on Falconcam. Which is much better than watching this on any cam.

You can even join the Salt Lake City Peregrine Falcon Watchpost Team (and wouldn't that look sweet on a resume and/or t-shirt) where you can "spot, chase & rescue the young falcons." Man, I can't wait to go Falcon chasing.

Seriously, all you need to do to sign up is be a lot more serious about this than I am and send an email to Bob Walters at BobWalters@utah.gov. Or you can even pester him more directly at (801) 538-4771. I'm sure Bob appreciates all the help I'm giving him.

You don't need any experience to volunteer. You only need binoculars, leather gloves, a flimsy towel (to drop upon a downed bird and because of a Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy), a water bottle and sunscreen. Oh, and a high pain threshold doesn't hurt either for when Momma Falcon thinks you're trying to smother her baby with a flimsy towel. And when you find out just how flimsy that towel is compared to angry Momma Falcon talons.

The volunteers also help answer questions from pedestrians. I really, really hope I get that job. Because of my vast experience in customer service, media relations and people asking dumb questions, that's really my wheelhouse. I can only imagine some of the questions you get when you're standing on the corner of a busy thoroughfare wearing your leather gloves and peering upward through some binoculars.

"What you looking at?"

• Pterodactyls
• Mutant Pigeons
• Gargoyles
• Rocs
• Harpies
• Raptors
• Dragons
• Condors
• Fish Tracks
• Hippogriffs

And you know other people are going to stop to see the raptors, gargoyles and mutant pigeons. too.

I can't wait for the young falconettes to hatch. First, they eat pigeons. Everyone has to love that. Second, they also carry off small children who are left unattended downtown. I just hope they carry off the ones that seem to be frequenting the same restaurants as me.

The Beat of Just One Drum

Ladies, start your engines. Hollywood's most eligible bachelor is back on the market. Of course, I'm talking 'bout Gary Coleman. Yes, Gary and his wife of 8 months are getting divorced. On the May 1-2 episodes of Divorce Court. Ah, a divorce on a syndicated divorce show. Classy?

Hey, who had 8 months in the pool by the way?

On the bright side, Gary's wedding bliss lasted four times longer than Pam Anderson's last go 'round.

While you may be content to wait for it to finally be May 1 (and it'll seem like days) and let your TIVO capture all the pageant and majesty that is Divorce Court, this reporter couldn't wait. So in true semi-journalist fashion, I made up did some digging.

Here's the inside skinny why the couple is going their separate ways.

10) Whenever she asks him to take out the garbage, he just replies, "What 'chu talkin' 'bout, Shannon?"

9) The rumor about black men turned out to be false.

8) He insists on sitting in her lap when they make out.

7) She loves to slow dance.

6) He enjoys some "different strokes" if you know what I mean.

5) She refuses to call him Mandingo in the boudoir.

4) Todd Bridges won't get the hell off their couch.

3) She once yelled out, "Take me, Webster!" whilst they were making love

2) He talks relentlessly about knowing Janet Jackson.

1) She voted for the wrong Arnold in the election.

Also, I have it on good authority that whenever he needs some change for coffee and asks her, she always says, "I'm a little short" and then cackles like a banshee.

Yeah, that's got to get old.

Nice Rice Baby

If you haven't started hoarding it yet, you'd better get your ass down to Sam's Club. Yes, it's already being reported that Sam's Club (the same globonational corporate holding company owned by Ace Wigs) has limited the sales of rice.

And you know it's a real problem, because the Guvment is already denying it.

EVERYBODY PANIC!!!!!

Shoppers are being limited to a mere 4 twenty-pound bags of rice per visit. Of course this limitation doesn't apply to stores in Idaho and New Mexico. Those sonsabitches Idaohoans (Ida-hoes? Idahites?) get their rice and Famous Potatoes. Double starches! Oh, the humanity. Who knows why the New Mexi-cats can get all the rice they want?

Yes, this is what passes for news nowadays. I'm sure that Sam's Club didn't just tip off CNN about the Rice Rationing so they could get some free publicity.

Lest you think this doesn't impact you, be aware of the following very critical things that will be impacted by the Global Rice Crisis. (yes, if I had an echo effect, it'd be here)

• sushi
• weddings
• Condeleeza
• the University
• overwrought books about Vampires
• Jerry
• chicken & rice casseroles (and who wants just chicken casseroles?)
• crummy paper
• pudding (who knew?)

There are probably even more, but I don't have time for these kind of shenanigans because I've got to send a hysterical letter to the USA Rice Federation because I can't possibly exist on only 80 pounds of rice.

What a Wonderful World

This Saturday is Earth Day. I thought starting my own religion was a scam and a tax dodge and a reason for Green Programming. I've got nothing on Earth Day. This Earth Day I'm turning on all the lights in my house, putting the newspapers in the regular bin instead of the recycling bin and then going for a drive for no reason at all. In the carpool lane. Yup, I'm a rebel!

We're actually having an entire WEEK of Earth Day activities at the Universal Import & Export office. Yesterday, it was a walk. Yes, we were supposed to cease our appointed toil and go outside and just wander around. It just made me wish I smoked.

We even had a poster. Woot!
The best thing about it, they actually had to right in teeny tiny letters at the bottom:

(This is dirt, not poop)

With an arrow no less.

I'm just glad someone (other than me) made a poopy comment about the poster. A comment so on target that non-poop had to be labeled as such.

And before I get off Earth Day, if I see another electric car driving slow in front of me, I swear I'm going to run it off the road. Douchebag, do you really think you're helping the environment by driving an electric car? Oh that's right. Unlike gasoline which comes from fossil fuels, electricity comes from magic fairies. It's not coal or nuclear power, it's magic fairy pixie dust which powers our electric cars.

Seriously, if you're that concerned about Al Gore's Scaremengering Power Point Presentation, your only alternative is to take the train or the bus. And both suck. And no one ever saw the girl of their dreams while they were waiting at a stop light and then spent all night riding the bus trying to track her down.

Sweet Baby Jebus, Earth Day sucks. It's got to be before Cinco de Mayo so you can understand how pious and lame and sanctimounious Earth Day is in comparison to a real made up marketing holiday that's a lot of fun. That's what is going to stimulate the economy and save the planet.

Cinco de Mayo celebrates a victory over the French. Good thing the Germans don't do that our you'd never see a Mercedes Benz get finished. Why were the French protests of the Olympic Torch so important? Because it's the first time the French didn't let someone run over their country.

Now I gotta go plant 6 trees the Wife bought for Earth Day.

Lucky Star

If you haven't got right with the Lord, you may be surprised to know that The End is nigh, Moses is dead, and William Shatner has written a book. It's about his favorite subject, him. And it's titled, "Up Till Now."

Yeah, pretty underwhelming, nay craptacular.

Well unlike those hacks at FoxNews (I know, that's redumbdant), this reporter did some digging to find out the rejected names for Bill's big book. And by digging, I mean going through the garbage at St. Martin's Press. Paperless office, my ass!

But after some digging (lots & lots of digging), here are the Top Ten Rejected Titles for William Shatner's new book:

10) The Rug & I
9) Being an Asshat Really Isn't Acting
8) Vulcan Nerve Pinch This
7) Bid For This Advertising Space on Priceline.com
6) Where Many Drunk Women Have Gone Before
5) I've Made Out With James Spader
4) My Friend, My Girdle
3) Star Drek
2) Picard Can Suck It
1) Buy.....This......Book

And while this train wreck is sure to be full of lurid details like Mr. Spock's boozing and Sulu's gayness and DeForest Kelley's scene stealing, at least the Shatman ain't singing.

The Cult Of Personali-T2ed

There’s been a lot about polygamy in the news lately. That’s what armed raids and tv cameras do for you. And I’m little surprised that with Texas cops, we didn’t get more gunplay. As a quick aside, I think all cops should have to wear cowboy hats when they do interviews. It just makes it easier to tell the good guys from the bad guys. And if they raid an Indian casino, that would be great. But because the Beehive State has a, let us say, slightly unique view on polygamy, I can’t keep my piehole shut no longer.

Now the kooks they raided in Eldorado are a franchise of the same guy they nabbed a couple years ago near Vegas. His name was Jeffs. He’s currently in the joint for a couple of 5 to lifes after he got caught in his SUV on the way to Vegas thanks to the technological advances in vehicle tracking. Don’t you love it when I talk all prisony? I like that a cult has franchises. And apparently these particular loonies (not to be confused with the Canadian dollar) think that the best way to grow their “church” is through inseminating and not sermon-ating.

Now because I only have 1 wife, people in Utah think I’m strange. So I’m going to start my own church, The Cult of PersonaliT2ed. Cult may not sell well with the squares so I’ll probably have to go with something a little sneakier to get the dough of the rubes who fall for this. How ‘bout The Baptists? That’s taken?! Who knew?

Okay, time for Plan B from Outer Space. I think we’ll go with the Church of Righteous Angelical Paterfamilias. Our beliefs are that you can only achieve eternal salvation by bestowing large amounts of money to me the Church. To help people in that regard, we’ll have continuous bingo, keno, monte carlo nights and raffles at the Temple. And our Church will be righteous in it’s nature and unconfineable in its majesty. No building can hold the power of the Paterfamilias. We will often be found worshiping early on as many mornings as possible in wide open spaces as we drive Satan from the earth and curse him loudly. Whenever I start talking like that, I hear Samuel L. Jackson in my head.

We also believe that intoxicating liquors are the work of the Ole Man Debil. To protect our brethren, we shall take all such substances unto ourselves and forbid the flock from consumption and require that they consecrate our Holy Monday Services with their harvest.


Where the Church of Righteous Angelical Paterfamilias is different from most religions is in their treatment of women. While a lot of churches view the role of women to be solely that of procreators, we believe women are much more than that. They will the the shining beacon of what humankind can become: caregiver, nurturer, entertainer, health inspector, maid. We will not put women on a pedestal. Nay, it shall be a stage and they will let their praise wash over us. And their gyrations and white boots and spinning tassles shall show their rapture.


What I don't get is why the men want multiple wives. Sure it sounds like a great plan--a different woman every night. But you know that the other wives are going to be sitting around talking about you. And do you think that discussion will be about how much they miss you? Plus, I can't imagine what the phone and credit card bills would be like. Plus, if you have multiple wives, you get multiple mother in laws. Can you imagine what it's like to be told multiple times by multiple wives that it's time to take the garbage out? Or getting the old, "I'll bet you'd wash the dishes for your 15th wife."

I really don't understand why these wives go for it. I mean if someone invites you out for dinner and says, "We'll just be hanging out around the compound" warning bells should be going off in your head. Maybe they think he must be a good catch and a good provider because he's already providing for 9 other women.

Now I gotta go. I've got 12 wives who've timed their cycle, so I've got to pick up several gallons of chocolate ice cream and give a shiatload of foot massages tonight.

Heart Like a Wheel

Reason Number 273 to love Utah:

There's roller derby.

And there's a league with teams named the Bomber Babes, Death Dealers, Leave it to Cleavers (Eldridge or Beaver?) and Sisters of No Mercy.

And you can sign up.

And they have a Flickr photostream.

Roller Derby in the Beehive State....who knew? I will definitely not make fun of this sport. Because these women could kick my ass. Even wearing skates.

I will admit to being somewhat ignorant of the majesty and skillfulness that is roller derby. I don't think that will change anytime soon. But I thought that roller derby as a sport had died out in the 50's except for a brief reincarnation in the form of the syndicated RollerGames. Yes, I'm embarrassed to know that show, but my roommate and I were big fans of the T-Bird Twins.

So skate on down to the malt shop, Daddio and get a burger and a shake before someone nails you over the rail.

Lydia, Oh Lydia, Have You Met Lydia

Okay, in my last post, I wanted to give you something stupid fun to enjoy the weekend.

Here it be.

That's supposed to make you look like that handsome fella over there. Because I'm not a geek and I've actually kissed a girl and no longer live in my parents' basement, I don't know who it is.

I think it's Wesley Snipes.
I may wear that print out goatee around all day and see if anyone even notices. Yes, dangling from my fly. How else do you wear one of those?

It's called a goat-ee. Why would you want to look more like a goat? Now I've got to go chew on a tin can, knock a troll off a bridge and do some yodeling with a horny nun.

I Can't Find Huey Lewis Anywhere

Because I'm a helluva guy (just ask me), I'm supposed to review a website called:

Balanced News Blog

Now I'm not sure why anyone would want my cynical self to review anything like this. First, it seems serious. It's not making fun of the talking heads who think we're too stupid to form our own opinions about the news, so they make sure we think the right thing about the news--their opinion. And they're not making fun of the news like the Onion. So they've got an uphill battle right there with me. What's the chance I can be serious for an entire post? There are two chances: slim and none. And Slim is out of town.

Second, I'm immediately suspicious of anyone who claims to be "balanced." That's like going to the Honest Used Car lot. You know you're getting screwed there. They should have just gone with some other name and let the esteemed readers come to the conclusion that the news was being presented in a balanced way. I'd have gone with the "Neither a Corporate Toady Nor Shrill, Annoying Liberal News Blog." And you know that domain name is available.

Third, by requesting this of me, that means that someone thinks (from reading the crazed ramblings here) that I know something about the news. This speaks to a remarkable lack of judgment on my readership. Someone once said to me (and I'd link to you, but I can't because of the constraints of this review format), I know you're usually joking, so I take what you say with a grain of salt. I replied, "The whole shaker, baby." So if anything I say is going to make you go to that blog or trick a search engine into thinking it's good, so be it. If not, meh.

It's not like I'm going to corner the market on content about Dan Blocker and Spanking or anything. Just try that search term in Google and see how impressed you are by the way.

So I should probably say something substantive about the Balanced News Blog. Well as of this morning, they have a very scary picture of Wesley Snipes. I'm trying to figure out who he looks like. He's completely bald and sporting a goatee that looks like he may be Wesley's Evil Twin (just like Mr. Spock in the Star Trek mirror universe). Who is that? I think Wesley thinks that he looks a little like Malcolm X. Except Malcolm didn't go for the shaved head look to my knowledge, but I have seen a few pictures where he's sporting the chin soup.

But really, the best way to read the Balanced News Blog is first to go to Google. Type in the term Mirror Universe Goatee. I'd link to it, but The Man won't let me. Get over it. Sometimes you have to work for good things to come to you. I know, that's what she said. Yes, I realize I've made you go to Google twice. I'm sorry, this time it's really worth it. Not like that Dan Blocker Spanking snipe hunt I sent you on earlier. Anyway, follow the instructions, slap that puppy on and enjoy reading balanced news from around the globe.

Okay, I feel sorry for you. I'll give the link in the next post. Take that, The Man. You can't stop me, you can only hope to contain me. Wow, can you tell it's Friday or what?

Have a good weekend, kids.

Annie, Get Your Gun

If you're near Capac, Michigan, keep your head down as the lead is flying.

As the Lansing State Journal so eloquently put it:

Officers arrest Mich. man accused of shooting chief, deputy

Of course this was after the cops had staked out his empty house for 5 hours. Nice work, boys.

While in police custody, Don Burke said that while he may have shot the chief, he definitely did not shoot the deputy. Oh, yeah.

If you think that's too far to go just for a cheap pop culture/song reference, get off of my cloud.

Freeze Frame

I saw the following picture in Sunday's paper and actually laughed out loud.

That's because I think someone is playing a pretty swell joke on us. I like to think there's a good twin of me slaving away for the man at Gannett Co and the way he sticks it to management is by inserting snarky comments into captions. Solidarity, my brother!

Anyway the caption on that picture was:

"A Tibetan supporter (right) argued with a Chinese supporter yesterday at the Ferry Plaza in San Francisco."

That doesn't look like an "argument" to me. That looks like a White guy is yelling at an Asian lady. At least I think that's a lady.


It look to this reporter that Whitey is screaming at someone who is calmly holding a sign. Nice do rag there by the way, Whitey. Why do I have the feeling that after exercising his right to free speech, Whitey is going to drive his Hummer home to the Misses in their co-op condo with the matching duvet and bedding sets in both bedrooms? I also hope he has a tattoo that he thinks is the Chinese character for Warrior but it really says Stupid White Boy or General Tsao's Chicken.


Does she really look like a "Chinese Supporter?" Or is she just some lady with a sign who wanted to see the Olympic torch because that's the closest she's ever going to get to it?


And while this may actually reinforce a stereotype that I am sure is in no way true, I really hope she doesn't understand English. Oh, and knows some Kung Fu so she can give him a roundhouse kick to the groin.

In response to Olympic Torch protests, the Chinese government has announced that for the remainder of the relay, Jackie Chan, Michelle Yeoh & Jet Li will be the runners.

Sniffy Galore

If you haven't heard, Amy Winebaghouse is doing the theme song for the next James Bond movie, Quantum of Solace.

As I've been too busy trying to run fiber cable through my house while not making my wooden floors look like swiss cheese, thanks to Reigning Frog for clueing me in to the Winester's attempt at ruining the Bond franchise. Twenty-two movies and counting. Suck on that, Sly Stallone.

As it's very hush hush about the new song, this reporter had to do some digging to come up with the tracks that Ms. Winehouse is laying down for the new flick.

• Dr. No I Don’t Do That, Okay, Maybe I'll Try It Just This Once


• From Russia With Vodka


• Goldschlager


• Thunder Eightball


• You Only Snort Twice


• On Her Majesty's Secret Stash


• Rehab Is Forever


• Live and Get High


• The Spy Who Bought Me Weed


• Spoontaker


• For Your Highs Only


• A View to a Still


• Suspended Licence to Kill


• GoldenHigh


• The Crack Is Not Enough


• High Another Day


• Mascara Royale


• Quantum of Sobriety

Feel free to play along at home kids.

Iodine In My Coffee

While the Wife is browsing through a furniture catalog in the passenger's seat, I'm patiently waiting for the drones at FourBucks to cough up the joe so we can get the hell out of the drive through lane. As he is prone to do, Guinness The Wonder Dog has his head out the rear window and is attempting to use his mind control powers to acquire sausage from passersby.

Unfortunately, this exchange takes place.

Drone: What a cute dog! What kind is he?

Me: Labradoodle.

Drone: He's beautiful. Do you show him?

Me: Are you kidding? Have you seen the kind of people who show
dogs?

Drone: I show dogs.

For some reason the conversation ended with our barista right there.

But the Wife wasn't wholly engrossed in his furniture shopping, because she immediately piped up with, "I just hope she spits in the right coffee."

To which I riposted, "Don't worry about getting spit in your coffee. She's getting that guy up front to teabag both of them."

"That's going to hurt."

"He'll teabag an iced coffee after."

Love Potion #9

I have to admit that despite my admiration of geekiness (like dragon mailboxes), I really get hot and bothered by looking at the web sadistics for Flack & Proud. I'm not sure why. It's not like I care about traffic. If people read this fine, if not, meh. I've always said the jokes are just for me.

Sure, I'm a comment whore, but that's really just to further the silliness that goes on here.


So when I took my Love Potion #9 and was on Needles & Pins to look through all the things people searched for and found this stupid blog by mistake, I was amazed.


Dan Blocker and Spanking


Yes, that's my absolute favorite term. First, try to get your head around the fact that someone is actually looking for something related to Dan Blocker and spanking. Yes, Dan Blocker, the guy who played Hoss on Bonanza. I'm pretty sure I don't want to know what they were expecting to find here.


But because I understand a bit how search engines work, if I keep using the term "Dan Blocker and spanking," that'll keep my site far up the results of anyone who searches for that. Granted, the audience for content related to Dan Blocker and spanking is probably pretty small. But for whomever that sick, twisted, pre-vert is, this Dan Blocker and spanking site is going to drive him crazy. And probably get his keyboard a little, umm, stick as he (or maybe she) thinks about Dan Blocker and spanking. Reading about Dan Blocker and spanking. Waiting for me to quit just using the term Dan Blocker and spanking over and over and get to some really twisted content about Dan Blocker and Spanking.


And if you've got a site about Dan Blocker and Spanking. You've absolutely got to link to me. That'll help piss off the twisted ones too.


I just wish I could find a picture of Dan Blocker getting spanked. Okay, that's a little disturbing.


Signs He Like Me


The top search term that people use and actually come here with is Signs he like me. Yes, it doesn't even have proper subject verb agreement. Now I like to think that my small, dedicated and disturbed audience is a bit smarter than the average bear. They would carefully evaluate things like Nigerian Princes needing personal information or penis enlargement with a pill or natural acne treatment or magic beans. So that most people who find my site can't even string a natural search term together, it makes me a little worried.


I think Signs He Like Me is a reference to the Unsolicited Advice for Women series that I used to do. And I think it's because of the post Reading the Signs. Now I will admit to being exceptionally clueless about when a girl liked me. Unless she actually rubbed her breasts against me, I usually couldn't tell if I was on the outs (or the ins) with a girl. But that doesn't (or didn't) keep me from popping off to the ladies about when a boy liked them. Because I had been there. The shy looks in the hall. The carefully planned out route and timing to "accidentally" run into her. The invented excuses to ask her a really feeble question. Of course that was before I found my mojo and realized all you needed to do was go with, "You dig me, right?"


And The Rest


But there's also some other sick and twisted stuff going on for people to find Flack & Proud. I don't know why people are using the interwebs to find sick and twisted stuff. How long has this been going on? I don't want to belabor you with this, but seriously, someone is actually typing this stuff into their keyboard (probably a sticky keyboard) and coming here. Be afraid, be very afraid.

Other random terms [and my snarky comments about them]

• nude butler [my first job out of college]
• bulldyke heaven [also known as the Dinah Shore golf tournament]
• erotic reindeer (actually I think that would be a great name for a rock and roll band)
• golf themed pee pee targets [Pee pee? That's what we're calling it now?]
• hairy armpit women pictures [Aren't those widely available?]
• how do I know if an indian man likes me [He brings you homemade curry in a hurry]
• weird 3sum [Larry King, Barbara Walters & Angie Dickinson]
• will you arrested in the unted states if you pick a hitchhiker up [No, but it's a bad idea]
• we'll always have paris ringtone [There's a ringtone? I always say this when I see the catcher talking with his pitcher on the mound. Or candlesticks are nice.]

That's it for twisted search terms. Feel free to suggest others and have a great weekend, kids. And I apologize for the random spaces. Still working out the growing pains with this new template. Mea culpa.

Top Ten Signs Your Baseball Team Isn't Ready for the New Season

Thanks to their amazingly bad start to the new season, this one goes out to the Motor City Kitties. No team that has ever started 0-7 has ever gone to the World Series. Ouch.

I should have known something was up this year when they were loading Briggs and Riley luggage on the team bus instead of equipment bags.

Bless you, Mr. Letterman.

Top Ten Signs Your Baseball Team Isn't Ready for the New Season

10. Last night your designated hitter needed a designated driver

9. Manager only calls the bullpen to discuss "American Idol"

8. Instead of Gatorade, players cool down with gravy

7. Outfielders move around in motorized rascal scooters

6. Billy Crystal is your lead off hitter. Carol Channing bats second

5. Team is 1,000-to-1 to win the World Series, 2-to-1 to join the cast of "Hairspray"

4. Isiah Thomas predicts you'll go all the way

3. Skipped Spring training to follow Hannah Montana tour

2. Players are jamming things in their ass, but they ain't needles

1. Hillary Clinton says attending your games is worse than going to war in Bosnia

My Three Sons

An ancillary benefit of being back to where it all began (in addition to getting to practice my tech support skills for the oldest computer users in the world) is that I get to rifle through the 'rents stuff to find miscellaneous trash 'n trinkets of what has gone before. It's like studying archeology but for crap.

As the last kid you can see a marked difference in what the oldest kid got and what I got. There are scrapbooks from my sister's formative years: college papers (a B- btw), baby teeth, bronze shoes, pictures of her first steps, prom photos and the flotsam and jetsam of growth in the Midwest. As you survey the intervening brothers, you can see a marked decline in the historical chronicling that takes place. By the time you get to me, the fourth and final kid, it's a battered shoe box with my birth certificate, a vaccination record (rabies, distemper, heartworm), and a crayon drawing of Mommy.

So it is with some joy that I get to look through my parent's photo albums. These are where people stored pictures before there was the interweb and Flickr. Mom used to carefully file away photographic evidence of growth progressions. Oh, and pull them out when your girlfriend visited to make sure she was so appalled by you hair choices that no pre-marital intercourse would ever occur.

I can only think I'm wearing those cheap glasses because I had broken my good pair playing basketball. Again.

I'm of indeterminate age in this picture but obviously it's at Christmas. It's of sufficient age that the Big Bothers were still on speaking terms. And this is the brief moment when I had been talked into having a perm. This is The Hair of Which We Will Not Speak. And check out that flannel, ladies. Yes, the little acorn from which the Mighty Oak of a Big Strappin' Mountain Man would grow was already manifesting itself. At least I don't have a cheesy porn moustache or a winged collar going.

My niece thought this picture of her Uncles was so funny that she laughed for 15 minutes straight. And then declared me the illegitimate child of Harry Potter.

Desperately Seeking Approval

Madonna is stealing building upon one of Oprah's ideas. No, not forking out enough cash to make a small country choke on it in an effort not to appear evil. Wait, maybe that's exactly what she's doing as Madonna has announced plans to build an all girls' school in Malawi.

I'm sure there's no correlation for Madonna's upcoming Malawi hearing about her purchase adoption of a young Malawi boy. Where the boy's Father was a little unclear that he'd not be seeing his son again.

I just can't wait for Madonna's school to open. I'm sure they'll have some of those swell marketing pens to hand out to all the prospective young ladies at the Scholastic Fair during recruiting season. Because Madonna was pretty short on details about her school, I had to make up do a lot of investigating on this topic.

There is currently no announced name for the school. This reporter has it from a highly-placed insider that the school is to be named the Ciccone School for Wayward Sluts. And the mascot will be the Battlin' Biatches. Even though there will be a secular curriculum, students and faculty will be required to wear Catholic Schoolgirl Uniforms.

And it will be a very specialized educational experience for the young Malawian girls chosen to attend the Ciccone School for Wayward Sluts. Here is just a smattering of the rigorous coursework on tap for the students.

Math:

-Counting Your Millions
-Divorce Settlements

History:

-Whores Through the Ages
-Evita: A Misunderstood Catholic Girl From Michigan
- The Importance of Paparazzi

Science:
- The Reproductive System & How to Profit From It
- Your Stretchable Larynx & How to Profit From It
- Bi-sexuality & How to Profit From It

English:

-Affecting a British Accent

Social Studies:

-Shocking the Squares for Fun & Profit
-Religious Controversy = $$$$$
-Adoption & the Complicated Malawi Legal System

Literature:

-My Naked Mommy Parts
-For the Kids
(important note: do not mix up course materials!)

Arts:

- Bad Music Through the Ages
- Dancing while Lipsynching
- Bad Acting Through the Ages
- Marrying a Director to Get Acting Work

And I can't wait to see the graduation ceremony. It'll be the only convocation with backup dancers.

Feel free to play along at home, kids.

We Built This City

At the new workplace, someone had the genius idea of naming all the building after Dead Presidents. I'm sure while the suits were sitting around going "harrumph" and sucking down double mocha half-caff capresso, it seemed like a good idear to honor the statesmen who had given so much to our country.

But for every Lincoln or Washington or Adams, you've got one of these:

Man, I'm betting everyone wants to work there. There is absolutely no way I can drive by this every day without giggling. I think the National Organization of Women should hold their next conference at The Johnson Building.

How old do you have to be before dick jokes stop being funny? Well, it's not 43.

Hmm, I kinda thought The Johnson would be bigger. That's what she said. And a different color for that matter. Grey Johnson sounds like a soap opera character not a building.

And heaven forbid you get stuck in this rat hole.

No one wants to work in The Zach.

Unleash The Dragon

Wow, the freakiness just keeps getting freakier around here.

Now I'll admit (under interrogation only) to maybe having some slightly geekish tendencies. I know way too much about the Star Wars movies, love video games with excessive amounts of fantasy violence and may even know how I'm eventually going to acquire my superhero powers (bitten by a radioactive weasel).

But I like to think these things are kept under wraps and only my closest friends know about them. There's no Star Trek uniform wearing, action figure collecting or convention attending.

Or mailbox displaying.

Yup, that looks to be an actual metal dragon mailbox. You know that has to be custom made. You just don't head down to the Home Despot and pick that out. That's something that looks like it fits in better in the real estate Branson listings.

Why do I have the feeling that this used to be someone's parent's house before they passed away? And I'm betting on two things.

First, he still lives in the basement.

Second, he's still single, ladies.

I will refrain from any predictions about his weight, his skin condition, whether he's ever kissed a girl or whether you'll have to dress up in the Princess Leia outfit fairly often. So get into your costume and head on out to Utah to grab this catch of a man. A keeper like this won't last on the market for long. Probably only another 10 or 20 years.

Workin' At The Car Wash

I love being in a bigger city. There's more restaurants, movies and entertainment options. And also a lot more freaky stuff to see other than cow mailboxes.

Unfortunately, driving around to all those swell places gets the car really dirty with all the snow, slush and whatnot on the road. Whatnot is a real problem in these parts. And because I can just dump my car into the sinks in the Casa D'amour like I do with Guinness the Wonder Dog, I've got to go and roam around until I finally find a car wash somewhere near where I'm already headed. For some reason, it's completely impossible for me to go out just to get the car washed.

So when I found this place, I knew I'd never wash anywhere else. Something that probably sounded better when people were just kicking around ideas, before they actually built the place.

Yup, the ole Willy Wash.

I'm never going anywhere else. I just hope the water is warm. And not too powerful.

I'm betting that place is jammed late night on the weekend while everyone is waiting for a Willy Wash. Because there's nothing better after a long night of fun than a nice, long, unhurried Willy Wash.

It's probably a good sign if your date takes you to the Willy Wash. It's a good sign that he likes you enough to let you see him at the Willy Wash and may even want you to lend a hand. Sometimes it's hard to read the signals and tell if he likes you. But if he's taking you to the Willy Wash and maybe even lets run run the foaming wand, he likes you. I mean he likes you, likes you. You don't let just anyone help you with a Willy Wash.

Bring lots of quarters, kids.

A Horse With No Name

In Hawaii, you can't take a horse into a hospital no matter how much it might cheer up the patients. So says The Man who made sure Lani Yukimura was escorted out of the hospital with his equine acquaintance.

The best thing is, Lani and his stallion made it up to the third floor on the elevator before he was "greeted" by security.

Why does a horse take the elevator? Because he can't use the stairs. And you just know that Wildfire was playing on the elevator muzak during the ride.

How cool would it have been for the elevator doors to open and the horse to take off like he's busting out of the gates at the Kentucky Derby? Do you think when Lani & Mr. Ed were walking him through the hospital anyone yelled, "And down the stretch they come." If he didn't bring Mint Juleps and a big hat, Lani really missed out.

Despite Lani's out of the box attempt to cheer up his relative as it was the wrong horse. Well you can't look a visiting horse in the mouth. Unless you're an ear, nose or throat specialist.

Surprisingly, the most important fact of the story is completely absent. What's the horse's name? So with a great deal of investigative journalism, this reporter (man, I love doing that) tracked down witness to the hospital visitation and made up the following:

• Transplant
• The Cafeteria Special
• Man 'o Waardenburg Syndrome
• Mr. Oedipal (Wilcox Memorial must have a psych ward)
• A Horse With No Pain
• Sea Section
• Seattle Slain
• Barbariatric
• Smarty Bones
• Mane-onucleosis
• Hoof and Morphine
• Tachypnea Tail
• Horse's Asperger Syndrome
• Reagent Riding
• Saddle Somnoplasty
• Ole Bursitis Bridle
• Bit Defect
• Horse Floppy Flu
• Sciatica Schlage

Feel free to play along at home, kids.