My Brett Favre's Back And You're Gonna Be In Trouble

Bless you, Brett. Thank goodness you're here to provide the needed media distraction from the grind that is summer and endless highlights of the Sox and the Yankees. Because those are the onliest two teams in America. And when they win, America wins. Except when they play each other because then America only ties.


But if only I could get more information about Brett. I know he's unretired now because apparently he can't make up his mind just like that date who wasn't sure if she wanted to be friends, have a relationship or just get drunk and have sex with you. Sometimes all in the same night. Or even the same conversation.


And the ESPN ticker crawl isn't enough. Sure, it's fine to see FAVRE roll across the bottom of your screen along with a few words from someone tangentially related to someone who might know an actual fact, but that's not enough.


What? HE FAXED A LETTER TO THE NFL. OMG. How about a copy of the letter? Who got the letter? Did he call Roger Goodell and say, wait by the fax machine for me? No, it's not that cartoon. It's a letter. Why can't we actually see the letter? Did he hand print it? OMG, I'll bet Brett Favre writes in calligraphy just like a monk.


Brett is so talented he not only throws interceptions in overtime of playoff games, but he can also act, use the fax machine, waffle on career decisions, and balance the federal budget in his head.


Why can't we just have a Brett Favre tv channel? I'm sure there's going to be some cameras left over from the Olympics events we don't watch. You know, the ones the Americans stink at. Like Ping Pong. Sorry, table tennis. Like we're going to beat the Chinese at Ping Pong in China. Yeah, right. Who wants to watch that baby seal clubbing? So just take all those cameras and follow Brett Favre around ALL THE TIME. This would be great. I'd bet we learned all sorts of things about Brett we didn't know.


You knew we eventually would get here, didn't you?


Top Ten Unknown Facts About Brett Favre


10) Born in a manger


9) Diet consists solely of food cooked at tailgate parties


8) Has a big, blue ox named Babe


7) Is the Joker's arch nemesis and keeps Kiln, Mississippi safe from crime


6) Infertile women in Wisconsin who wear Brett's jersey during games have actually become pregnant


5) Speaks 4 languages: NFL babblespeak, English, Sanskrit and Spanish


4) Has a restraining order against John Madden


3) Once called Vince Lombardi a pussy


2) Refused to become Governor of Wisconsin saying "I will not run. I only pass"


1) Was the creative inspiration for Buckaroo Banzai


But maybe, if the Packers have to release Brett, we'll see the best thing ever. Him in a Lions jersey. Be still my beating heart.

She's a Man Eater

In Flint, Michigan, now that police have put a stop to the scofflaws that were wearing their pants too baggy, they've even got a more difficult case to crack.

Now I have been known to wear my pants baggy. Not because I'm a thugg, but rather because I'm a slack ass and know that spandex makes everyone look like a snausage. Except Micheal Phelps. Bastard.

But kids, do you know where the whole baggy pants thing came from. Okay, besides Charlie Chaplin. That's right. In prison. Wearing your pants baggy was a means of advertising that you were a pitcher. Now if that's the form of self-expression you wish to make with your fashion choices, so be it. And I know a great restaurant for you.

Back to Flint, figuratively speaking of course, we're lucky in that regard. Anyhoo because everything else good has been stolen, in Flint the scofflaws have resorted to stealing the manholes. And the grates. Over 600 manholes and grates have been stolen over the past year.

Now I don't want to say that the Michigan politicians have run the gas guzzling economy into the ground, but the average manhole only goes for about $20 at a scrap yard. So I've got to think that the physical industry that goes into a manhole caper isn't really paying off that much. You've got to have at least 2 guys to lift the thing and one of those pry bars to get it open. And a truck to getaway in. This is not a crime of spontaneity. You've got to plan your hole heist. Sewer line plans obtained at the library. Cover of darkness to make off with your ill gotten loot. A scrap man who doesn't ask too many questions. If he knows what's good for him....

Seriously Flint Holers, think about a life of white collar crime. You make more money, it's a federal rap which means a much better prison and you can network with your fellow inmates.

Besides, in Japan they have really awesome manhole covers. I'm just saying.

Greek Is The Word

Me: We're going out to dinner before the show?

Wife: Where are we going?

Me: A Greek place, but you won't need a passport. It's downtown -- Astra's.

Wife: Asses?

Me: Who names a restaurant Asses?

Wife: You said it was Greek.

Me: If I drop my wallet, I'll kick it to the door before I try to pick it up.

Wife: Will the plates be brown?

Me: No, but I'll bet the chairs are really uncomfortable.

Wife: I wonder if the dress code allows chaps.

Me: Only ass-less chaps.

Wife: I just hope Asses sells shirts.

Me: It'll be like Hooters but just the opposite.

Wife: I'm ordering the butt steak.

Me: Extra juicy.

Little GTO

Here's a headline I didn't think I'd see today:

Mayo Clinic Hospital Surgeon Takes Photo of Patient's Penis During Surgical Procedure

Dr. Adam Hansen took a picture of strip club owner Sean Dubowik's penis during a gall bladder operations. It seems that seeing the words Hot Rod tattooed on Dubo's ding dong was too much to resist. Apparently, Hot Rod Sean got the tattoo as part of a $1000 bet. Classy.

How much would it take for someone to shove needles into your penis? Let's just say it's probably more than $1000. And I've have gone with something clever like:

• Insert Tab A Into Slot B
• A lightning bolt
• Monica Was Here
• Don't Tread on Me
• This End Very Up
• Yes, I'll Respect You Even More
• Don't Pull on My Hips, I Know What I'm Doing.

But the quote of the story has to be:

"I feel violated, betrayed and disgusted," Dubowik said."

And I think we all know how much it must take to get a strip club owner to feel disgusted.

Now I'm not going to defend Dr. Hansen for taking a patient pee pee picture. That's preposterous. But if you've got a tattoo on your penis that says Hot Rod, you might not get up on your moral high horse in indignation. In fact, I'm willing to bet another $1000 that Sean has used the line, "Want to go for a ride on my hot rod?" on more than one occasion.

It's not a privacy issue though. There could be tons of people with penis tattoos that say Hot Rod out there.

Actually, it doesn't say Hot Rod. It says How Do You Like Alex Rodriguez Now Madonna? But, you know, he was sedated at the time.

And if these kind of shenanigans and hi jinx are going on at the Mayo Clinic, what do you think happens at the Hollywood Upstairs Medical College where you have to go because of your crummy health insurance?

Just remember when you get a tattoo on your hoohah, it might wind up on the interwebs.

So start practicing on your indignation, violation, betrayal and disgust looks in the mirror. Because you know this is going to result in a great big lawsuit.

And while I'm sure there's nothing that could be done to compensate my client, I do know that the only method you have to make him whole is to give him 4.6 million dollars in compensatory damages. Bless you, Cirroc.

Dazed and Confused

Reason # 328 to Love Utah

It's a state holiday today. Suck it, non-Utah monkeys!

Yes, this is the day approximately 161 years ago that Brigham Young came into Utah and said, "This is the place." They even have a monument.

In honor of the state's founding, we have no worky, a parade, a candy pull and leftover fireworks from July 4th. No word on whether we also get mattress sales. And we get two days of concerts from the Mormon Tabernacle Choir with the Entire Osmond Family. Sometimes the jokes just write themselves. Where do the stereotypes about this state come from? I know I've got a serious case of Puppy Love for this state. Well, for Guinness the Wonder Dog anyway.

Now while the whole This is the Place makes for good marketing copy, I'm a little skeptical. The pioneer trek was over 1300 miles. Do you really think at the end someone said, "This is the Place." I'm guessing it was a little more along the lines of.....

"You kids shut up back there. No, we're not there yet. Quit touching him then. No, we're not stopping for you to pee again. I am not either lost. No, I'm not stopping to ask for directions. NO! We're not getting a pecan log. Ugh, put your shoes back on. Quit almost touching him then. How 'bout we play The Quiet Game? No, I'm not lost! So help me if you kids don't knock it off, I'm turning this whole wagon train around. That's it. Trip's over. Now. Get out. We're done. Here. We're stopping."

At least that's how I remember a lot of our family vacations ending.

Wing And A Prayer

If you haven't heard, you aren't consuming your required daily dose of media pablum. So get to it. It's all the buzz. Batman was arrested.

Okay, he's not really The Dark Knight. As far as you know. But wouldn't a crime fighting superhero/actor who was really a crime fighter be the perfect cover? It's the classic zag.

Anyway, Christian Bale had to turn himself in to a British police station over allegations that he had assaulted his mother and his sister. Well thanks to this reporter's extensive network of police informants, I've got the real scoop.

Top 10 Reasons Christian Bale Allegedly Assaulted His Mum & Sis

10) Mom wondered why there were no awesome fight graphics

9) Sis's continued talk of the nuanced genius of Val Kilmer

8) Extensive criticism of lack of kissing scene in Brokeback Batman

7) Mom's insistence that Cesar Romero was a much better Joker

6) Christian once again pales in comparison to Morgan Freeman

5) When asked opinion of movie, Sis said, "Well, it's no American Psycho."

4) Not enough Michael Caine

3) Mom's claims that Katie Holmes really carried that first movie

2) No Batusi or Evil King Tut

1) It's all an insidious plot of the Penguin

Don't worry, kids. I'm sure Robin will come to Batman's rescue as always. It's always nice when two men can get along so well even though they live together in a cave. Just like Ace & Gary.

Rocky Mountain High

This never happened. As far as you know.

So whilst the Wife and I were in Aspen, we took public transportation everywhere. Because not only am I all about the environment, but there's actually no place to park in Aspen. At all. There's actually a gigantic dome at the end of the city and no cars are allowed inside. It's just like in the Simpsons movie. Which is even rendered more magnificent when you drive by the Aspen Airport and see all the private jets that are parked there. Right before they head off to the their St. Barts villa rentals. I always forget how private jets run on magic fairy dust and have no carbon footprint.

Anyhoo as we were walking in an altitude that is so high it actually contains no oxygen at all, I notice a black Hummer has somehow slipped through the security grid and is being allowed to roam the streets of Aspen. Because I live on Snark street, I couldn't let it go.

I notice the little blond "niece" has the window down.

"What's it like to hate the environment?" I opined.

This obviously hit a little too close to home because she turned bright red and just stammered. Before I could follow up with a comment about which double jointed sexual position she had to master to earn that car from her octogenarian patron, the light changed and she drove off.

This story is a lot funnier if that same little blond girl isn't the hostess at the restaurant you walk to.

Sarah Smile

Well it happened. America's Couple, Jimmy Kimmel and Sarah Silverman are no more. I will not dignify any rumors that I had anything to do with the separation. But if these two crazy kids can't make it, what chance do any of us have?

Let's just say that I have some inside information about why the couple is no more.

Top Ten Reasons Sarah Silverman and Jimmy Kimmel Broke Up

10) She really is effing Matt Damon

9) He's sick of being forced to watch There's Something About Mary whenever it's on cable

8) Adam Corolla won't get off their couch

7) She finally saw his show in HDMI (High Def, Massive Incompetence)

6) His long diatribes about how The Man Show was "misunderstood genius"

5) She keeps TIVO'ing Dave

4) He insists on asking Ben Stein for financial advice

3) When told she must laugh and laugh living with Jimmy, he answer is, "You'd be surprised."

2) Her 5th Anniversary Gift? The box set of Crank Yankers

1) She finally realized she was the funny one and the pretty one

Don't worry, Sarah. Smile. Matt will always be there for you.

Who Let the Dogs Out

Reason #682 to Love Utah

We've got restaurants where they let you dine with your doggy. (warning that's a PDF). Thanks to the Salt Lake City Weekly for clueing in this hound owner on the al fresco opportunity ala K9.

It's true. Up Millcreek Canyon at the Loghaven Restaurant, you can enjoy a pate on the patio with your pooch.

Now, I've had dinner with a few dogs before. But at least their acne wasn't too bad. And those weren't just prom dates. Hiyo. And I didn't really mind when she licked my face during the slow dances.

They also have a drink menu featuring doggy themed drinks: Poodle-tini, Irish Setter Coffee and Salty Chihuahua. Sounds pretty tame to me. If I'm going to go with a dog themed dining experience, go nuts with it. Because most of the dogs probably won't have theirs.

Menu Recommendations:

• Bichon Frise Bacon Burger
• Samoyed Salmon
• Havanese Jalapeno Halibut
• Duck ala Dalmatian (with Sour Cream & Black Olives)
• Labradoodle Lasagna
• Springer Spaniel Spanish Paella
• Mastiff Minestrone (for large appetites)
• Chow Chow Cornish Game Hen
• English Bulldog Eggs Bearnaise
• Jack Russell Jerked Chicken

I could go on all day with this list. But you knew that already.

Do you think the restaurant has a No Smoking and No Humping section?

This I Swear

If your get rich quick scheme to cash in big time so you can finally afford that Texas Gulf coast waterfront property, is to own a non-swearing bar, it's not going to work.

That's what a Christian couple found out the hard way.

John & Krista Fleming bought The King's Head pub in Inslington, North London, England. Then they promptly banned cursing. I swear to God they did.

The business promptly tanked. Hmm, people must like getting their curse on whilst getting their drink on.

The CC's soon lost their pub but continue to live in the apartment upstairs. How much do you think the King's Head regulars like yelling curses loud enough for the upstairs couple to hear?

There's a lot going on her. First, why'd the CC's buy the pub? Maybe they were going to change the name and go all Religious Right (who are neither) on the menu. Call it The Crucifix and serve stuff like Pontius Pilot Potato Skins and Jesus Jerk Chicken Sammiches and Luke's Luscious Latkes. And show lots of hockey games with good goalies. Because when Satan shoots, Jesus saves. What would Jesus drink? Cristal of course.

Second, when the brewery who ran the pub wanted to bring in new managers, the CC's barricaded themselves inside. In typical shoddy reporting, there's absolutely no mention of how this worked out. But then if I were going to be taken hostage, I'd certainly want it to be in a pub. "Hey, hey, hey, let's not just run off half-cocked and surrender at the first sign of a SWAT team. It's not even Happy Hour."

So what did we learn this week, kids?

People like to use the swears when they get their drink on. This I swear.

Don't name your celebrity progeny something stupid unless you've got pre-paid therapy arranged.

Always check your bra for bats or ask a helpful man to do it for you.

Wear long sleeves while you ride your hog at high speeds or the "bat wings" will slow you down. Not just the vibrating ones in your bra.

Batdance or Batusi?

In Norwich, England, 19 year old Abbie Hawkins discovered a bat in her bra. This is not made up. Bonus points to The Telegraph for featuring a gratuitous photo of a young lady in a bra with a fake bat.

Anyhoo, Abbie thought the vibrating she felt in her clothes was just her phone. Hmm, the women I know who are used to feeling a vibration, don't mistake it for their phone. Abbie went to work at 7:30 and didn't discover the bat until around noon! Apparently, that vibration had been going on for quite some time. If you find a bat in your bra, does that make you...wait for it....a B cup?

Abbie finally investigated in her snugglepuppy holder and discovered the tiny bat while she was at work at the Holiday Inn Norwich North. And the hotel GM set the bat free in the garden. While I do not often encounter the Holiday Inn in Norwich North during my business travels, I would check for bats very carefully before I got into bed or hopped on any treadmills in that hotel.

Now I have experienced a bat in my house (though not my bra) and that particular interloper was not set free. He was rather served with a tennis raquet out the door. An ace from which he did not recover.

I'm very amazed that young Abbie had the presence of mind to capture the bat alive. If I had been forced to investigate a vibrating undergarment and found vermin therein, the reaction would have been decidedly more active and vocal. And fecal.

If Abbie just went with the Cleavacious, she could have probably have just released the bat naturally.

The Telegraph does refer to this as a Bat Bra. Now, I'm no comic book geek, but wouldn't Batgirl have the Bat Bra? Or wouldn't the Bat Bra be what Batman used to capture his arch nemesis? You know, the Jiggler.

Yes, that was an extremely long way to go for a cheap boob joke. Mea culpa.

But the moral of the story kids is best expressed by Abbie. "I will certainly be checking my bras every morning from now on." And ladies, I'm sure there are plenty of men out there who not only will rescue you, but will willingly inspect your bra for vermin if you just ask nicely. And if you can't find a full fledged VIP (Vermin Inspection Patrol), it's probably best to be on the safe side. Never, ever wear an uninspected bra. Better safe than sorry.

Now rock out to the hardest working band in Guitar Hero Aerosmith, Commando Nipples.

Born To Be Mild

Dear Red-Hot Biker Momma:

I'm sure as you headed out on the highway this morning, you had your Sassometer set to 11.

You were working it in your leather pants. The company logo shirts of your accountancy firm carefully hidden by the sleeveless vest. And while I don't know a lot about the motorcycle lifestyle and the steel horses that you ride, I'm sure you're wanted, dead or alive.

You've got your hot little hands on the tall dresser handlebars that keeps them up so high by your eyes. Yes, we see your sexy, tanned skin. And so much of it. You're rocking to the big sound of your muffler and your blonde mane flowing in the wind.

But that wind also makes that extra skin under your arm flap in the wind like a trailer screen door in a hurricane. So, sexy.

Try to remember your sleeves next time.

Lurve,

t2ed

The Name Game

If you haven't heard, Nicole & Keith's new project finally dropped. She's named Sunday Rose and weighed 6 pounds and 7.5 ounces. Yup, just slightly heavier than Mommy.


Apparently it was a very difficult birth. Every time the mom to be opened her legs, the doc was blinded by the light. Hiyoooo.


But seriously, Sunday Rose Urban? That sounds like the name of a bad boxed wine that you'd find at the booth where they're handing our promotional pens.


After lots and lots of investigation (you'd be surprised how closed-mouth the Kiwis are about medical records, sheesh) and threatening to reveal the ending of Tintin and thus ruin Peter Jackson's next blockbuster, this reporter obtained the list of the names that Nicole and Keith rejected to go with Sunday Rose. Wow, was that a long way to go. But you knew this would eventually devolve into just another lame list didn't you?


Top Ten Rejected Names for Sunday Rose Urban


10) Urban Blight

9) Haughty Pretencia

8) Sid Kidman

7) Legend Urban

6) Sub Urban

5) Outfitter Urban

4) Suri Urban

3) Saturday Geranium

2) Cowboy Urban

1) Play 'N Kidman


Feel free to play along at home, kids.

Skyrockets In Flight

It's almost here. July 4th! Woo hoo. Time for every American to engage in their civic duty to blow things up and buy mattresses! It's Independence Day and although we actually signed the Declaration of Independence on July 2, nobody likes a snot nose who brings up history to try to rain on our no-worky parade. So, shut it, college boy.

I have a wistful view of fireworks. One Summer I worked in a fireworks factory. We unloaded the ugly, Chinese charactered, corrugated boxes and put them into fancy, schmancy colored boxes for the suckers consumers to enjoy purchasing from hastily constructed tents, trailers or shacks along the side of the road. By the end of the day, your hands would be black from all the powder that leaked out of the extremely high quality and obviously strictly safety scrutinized objects of destruction. Oh, and every now and then, if I was really lucky, I'd get to help fill a semi-truck for shipment to somewhere else. There's nothing more glorious than lifting boxes all afternoon in a tin can with poor ventilation while it's about 100 degrees outside. What? And give up show business.

Oh, that was also the summer that two fireworks factories blew up. That summer fireworks factory explosions were like shark attacks, dangerous tomatoes (a good name for a rock and roll band by the way but it's no Commando Nipples) and messy celebrity divorces.

So whenever peeps are going ooh and ahh, I'm probably thinking, "That's an x-150 with a 500 gram load and a scatter display." Because that makes for such fascination conversation, I usually keeps my piehole shut. Usually.

The best fireworks shows are those set to music. You know you're going to get Copland's Fanfare of the Common Man shoved down your throat with some big boomers. Maybe if you're lucky, they'll toss in some Whitesnake this year to keep the PBR & Nascar crowd from getting ugly.

So enjoy the 4th, kids. I'll be too lazy to post. But hepped up on barbeque sauce and coleslaw. And Leinenkugel's.

Remember alcohol and fireworks don't mix. So get your drinking out of the way before you start blowing stuff up. You don't want to spill your beverage when you're fleeing the mayhem. And if you're not causing any mayhem, you're not trying hard enough.

Stay Just a Little Bit Longer

In regards to this, I received the following note from my Inside Guy with the Packers.

Dear Brett:

STFU.

Love,

Aaron Rodgers

The Power of Good-Bye

It's the latest rumor. No wait, it's not.

Whatever you choose to believe, thanks to some great intelligence from our Man on the Inside, we have the real scoop.

Top Ten Ways to Tell Your Marriage To Madonna Is Over

10) Your last gift from her? Swept Away DVD

9) No longer sending dirty pictures of herself to your cell phone

8) During your last game of Prisoner & the Warden's Wife, she left you in solitary confinement for 48 hours

7) Your autographed copy of Sex now has black bars over all of her naughty bits

6) Took back the Kaballah bracelet she gave you

5) Took back the Malawi orphan she gave you

4) No longer leaving gap-toothed hickeys on your inner thigh while you sleep

3) She TIVO's every movie with Warren Beatty

2) No longer affecting faux British accent, now affecting faux Spanish accent sounding suspiciously like your poolboy Ramon

1) Simulated concert sex scene with her gay backup dancer keeps getting longer and longer

And a couple of bonus reasons:

• Won't get on the casting couch for a role in your latest underperforming movie
• Her PR people call your PR people to issue a release denying that your marriage is over
• Latest children's book is titled "Why Daddy is a Sumbitch"

Oh, Madge, we kid because we care. You're just as culturally relevant now as you were when you were writhing around on stage in a wedding dress and kissing female train wreck pop stars.

As far as you know.

Kris Kross

One of my acquaintances recently told me that he likes working with me because I've got my shiat together. This tells me the ploy is going well.

Because I really don't think I have my shiat together anymore than anyone else. I just try to minimize the number of people who see me do something stupid every day. Everyone is stupid at least once a day. You just have to make sure no one sees it. Then they mistakenly think you've got your shiat together.

You know. The spilling coffee all over the floor because you forget to put the pot under the coffee maker. The jamming the printer and winding up with toner all over your face so you look like Jolsen. Those every little day stupidity acts which let everyone in on the secret doofus inside all of us.

This is a story about that.

I was really tired this morning. So I'm on full zombie mode auto pilot all the way into work. Dump the dog, eat a couple of breakfast bars (candy disguised as health food), slog into work, plow through some email, look at the calendar, wonder why it's not already Friday, pine for luxury watches online, swill some Diet Coke.

I finally have to go to the bathroom. Now I don't know how many of you know about the plumbing of men. We always stand because it helps with the sword fighting. That's why there's always pee on the floor and the walls and the ceiling. So I'm attempting to get the lil flap open on my boxers. Can't find it. Not happening.

I finally realize that I've had my underwears on backwards for about two hours. And never noticed a thing. I had to slink off to the small bathroom and drop trou and get arranged properly. Because while it's the best look in the world, getting caught with no pants and shoes on in the men's room will get you asked some questions by HR.

Oh, yeah. That's having your shiat together. Except for your underwears.