This Game is Killing Me

I'm still worn out from last weekend's football games. I'll admit to having a financial incentive toward a game or two. But you'll never take me alive, Copper.

During the Steelers-Colts game when Jerome Bettis fumbled at the 2 yard line, I'll admit that I screamed "OH MY GOD" at the top of my lungs.

Glad the wife wasn't in the house then or I'd have been scolded big time. When I yell loud enough that the neighbors can hear it, she gets embarrassed. Especially when it's things like, "TACKLE HIS DICK," "RUN, FUCKER, RUN" and "CRACKER, PLEASE." I'm sure the neighbors think I'm nuts. That's why I always tell them it's my wife who yells during games. Just kidding, honey. Kinda.

Anyway, this guy actually had a heart attack when Bettis fumbled. It's gotta be true. It's on the interweb.

I don't think that's so amazing. We have people who try to watch the Detroit Lions play every year die. Of course, it's usually one of the coaches. Coordinators, Head Coaches, Scouts are among the usual fatalities after a year of Lions football such as it is.

Try not to get this involved in cheering for the game kids. Like Jerry Seinfeld said, "You're just cheering for laundry."

My City Was Gone and Replaced by Shopping Malls

It just gets crazier and crazier in Ohio.

This headline is not made up: Woman Has To Get 6 Stitches After Hit With Sex Toy

Apparently, Excell Bradley threw what is described as a "large" sex toy across the room hitting a woman who required six stiches in her eye.

As is typical in cases like this, it's shoddy, lazy journalism. Many unanswered questions remain:

How big is "large?" Over two feet? Having never owned a sex toy (large or otherwise), give me some perspective here.

What kind of toy was it? Was it, ahem, "in motion" when thrown? I don't consider myself naive, but was it a dildo or a vibrator? Cause that's about all I know.

Why was this large sex toy in the room and was it the cause of the argument? I'm doing a lot of guessing here, but if you're throwing a large sex toy "across the room," it's not too difficult to postulate that it might be the cause of the argument. Know what I'm saying, Angry Inch? The woman might have expressed a preference to which Excell did not take well. This could be a complete red herring though. They may have just been fighting and he just grabbed the closest item at hand. Which still probably belonged in a drawer or otherwise out of sight.

Was Excell named after a Windows application? I'm guessing his parents were big accounting fans.

Is Excell being charged with assault with a dead weapon? Maybe Viagra next time Excell.

Was the eye or face the intended target of the large sex toy projectile? Was Excell trying to hit her in the face. Cause this is kind of what got Clinton into trouble. Never go for the facial.

Have police seized the large sex toy as evidence? Or are they just seizing the toy and giggling? How exactly do you tag an evidentiary item like that? String? Glue? Bag it? You just know this is going to wind up on CSI Everywhere next week.

If some of these Ohio journalists just applied themselves, the Pulitzer would be a lock.

Cause I'm Wanted, Dead or Alive

My Pop's goal is to talk to everyone in America. Be glad he doesn't travel internationally.

Every winter my Mom & Pop go to Southern California to annoy a whole new set of people. I swear this story is true.

They're grocery shopping in SoCal. By shopping, I mean my Mom is inside doing all the work (from a list and with coupons of course) while Pop is sitting outside on a bench enjoying the sun. A down on his luck type sits on the bench next to my Dad. After a bit, the following conversation begins.

"You look like Jesse James," says the homeless man.

"He's dead you know," says Dad who looks nothing at all like Jesse James. Unless Jesse James always wore a windbreaker, a baseball cap and had his hands in the back pockets of his jeans and usually frequented hardware stores.

"No really, you do." Long pause. "Jesse, loan me 50 cents." This is not, in fact, a question.

"What do you need 50 cents for?" says Dad/Jesse.

"I'm going to go buy a hamburger over at that McDonald's."

"Hang on. I only have a quarter," says Dad/Jesse. Mom's always kept Dad on a short leash because of his propensity to talk to strangers.

"That's okay. I'm halfway there then." Homeless guy leaves and departs in the general direction of McDonald's while Dad continues to wait for Mom. Mom finally finishes shopping and both head to the car to put away the groceries.

From across the parking lot someone begins yelling, "Jesse, Jesse, wait!" It's Homeless Guy (post burger) running toward my Dad. "God Bless you, Jesse." He then begins to take off his sweatshirt. "You have to take this. You did me a solid and now I'm returning the favor." Dad protests, but winds up taking the sweat shirt.

Yes, my Dad takes clothing from the homeless!

Later at their condo, Mom washes the sweatshirt and then gives it to my sister-in-law when she complains she's cold. No mention is ever made of how they obtained the sweatshirt from the homeless person. Sis in law loves that sweatshirt by the way.

Why do I live far away from my parents? Now you know.

The Same Old Song and Dance

A little known secret about t2ed is that I loves me musical theatre. I guess it's proof that I'm in touch with my inner homo. I don't know why, but music + plays + comedy = hilarity in my brain. I probably don't go to the theater but once a year, but I think comedy musicals are even funnier than the collective musical stylings of William Shatner. It's the same way with musical comics like Henry Phillips or Paul and Storm or Stephen Lynch. This may harken back my school days. I used to have season tickets to the Southern Arizona Light Opera Company and would take a date or three creating the illusion that I was someone who laughed at something other than dick and/or fart jokes.

Please do not consider this a blanket endorsement of all musical theater. I saw Les Miserable and thought that must be a reference to the audience. After Phantom, I whined, "Why couldn't that damn chandelier have dropped on him a lot earlier?" If it's not a musical comedy, I want no part of it.

Wife and I recently had the good fortune to attend a road show of Spamalot. Now if you're not fortunate enough to live within short distance of either Noo Yawk or Vegas, it's also touring. And it's good. Really good even if you don't get Tim Curry, Hank Azaria or David Hyde Pierce. If you've seen the movie, it's got all the best scenes. And if you've not scene the movie, you really need to get out more and probably shouldn't be reading this anyway. Go to Netflix right now and put it in your queue.

Even if you haven't seen the movie, you'll still like the show. It skewers all the Broadway conventions like woeful overacting and Andrew Lloyd Weber and songs that are too long with endless key changes and even more overacting the inspirational Big Song that's designed to win the Tony. That Eric Idle and John Du Prez are funny cats.

For proof of just how good Spamalot is, I offer this story. After we saw the show the week before Christmas, Wife and I acauired the cast recording for each other. Now that's either a really bad Gift of the Magi rip off or it shows just how good it is.

Or how brain damaged we both are. I'm still trying to work that one out. Luckily I can listen to the show to soothe my savage beast even when I skip my meds.

Alito's Waiting For Another Go

Unless you're in a cave, all the news is about the Supreme Court confirmation hearings currently ongoing in the Senate Judiciary Committee for Judge Alito.

Man, it's great to see Senators posturing that they really understand the law and proposed judiciary candidates express opinions, if pressed relentlessly, that yes, they do prefer some movies more than others. It's all a big Us v. Them. Unfortunately, it's never that simple.

But I like to play a little game. Anytime anyone mentions the term "Alito" you have to break out into "Whoa-oh-oh-oh. He's for the money, he's for the show. Lido's a-waitin' for another go." Yup, that's supposed to be Boz Skaggs' "Lido Shuffle."

It's the only way I've found to get people to shut up about this.

Don't Sit on Uncle Ted's Lap to Drive

Hello, Kids. Welcome to the show today. And we've got a special guest, Senator Ted Kennedy and his ginormous head. Just set your drink down over there, Senator.

Uncle Ted is writing a children's book. I wonder if it's under the nom de plume Dr. Souse?

The book is not about the dangers of drinking and driving, but instead is about a day in the life of a Senator. from the viewpoint of Ted's Portuguese Water Dog, Splash. Let's slow down a bit here.

First, try to wrap your brain around the fact that Ted owns a Portuguese Water Dog. Second, he named the dog Splash. Is that the sound an 1967 Oldsmobile Delmont 88 makes when it goes off a bridge? I guess Splash was better than Chappaquiddick.

The book not only follows the Senator but also shows how a bill becomes a law. I'm guessing it won't show any pork barreling, sneaky amendment tactics, filibustering, smoky room meetings or lobbyists. That's how a bill really becomes a law.

My Senator and Me won't come out until May, so you'll have to wait a bit to read it. But I think this opens up a whole new world to Uncle Ted. I can't wait for some of his sequels.

• Are You My Lobbyist?
• Where the Drunk Things Are (usually at the Kennedy Compound)
• One Fish, Two Fish, Drunk Fish, You Fish
• Oh the Bribes That You'll Take
• Green Eggs & Convenient Media Distractions
• And to Think That I Leaked It on Mulberry Street
• Go, Bitch, Go
• Elmo's First Filibuster
• Curious George and the Man with the Big Yellow Checkbook
• The Cat in the Gerrymandered Redistrict
• Profiles in Socialism

Isn't it scary that I know all those kids' books yet don't have demonspawn on my own? I was a reader as a kid. I promise.

Share your own ideas for Ted's next book. The winner gets a prize. You have to fact check Uncle Ted's book and you have to ride with him to his first book signing.

Lou is Third, but She's a Brick House

These things happen in threes and I don't have any control over it. Quasi-celebrities always pull a troika in their demises. Not all at once, but they tend to clump. No one can explain it and no one can contain it. Please no wagering.

But I swear I didn't mean to kill Lou Rawls. I mean, he was one of the Louisiana Gator Boys in Blues Brothers 2000 for crying out loud.

And just our luck, he beat Dick Cheney to the hospital. Curses!

Apparently Cheney was admitted to the hospital for shortness of breath. Probably from blowing all those poor little pigs houses down. Not the brick house, he just wiretapped that one.

Get Back to Where You Once Belong

Dave Barry did an awesome column called "A Year on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown" for the Washington Post. A warning though, the WAPO requires registration. You bastards!

And while it's very funny, he also reminded me how stupid 2005 really was.

Now I hate those retrospective Year in Review pieces that everyone does. They're hacky and unoriginal. So one more isn't really going to hurt you. Mostly writers just do it because they're out of ideas and phoning it in over the holidaze. So you know this isn't like that. Unfortunately I've got way too many ideas (in fact 2006 is the Year of Bad Ideas for me) and I was here during the holiday. Check those December posts, I wasn't slacking off. Ideas like the Chia Groin don't just come every day. Well, actually, stupid stuff like that does.

Here's a short list, however, of stupid news stories I had completely blocked out of my mind in an effort to cope with the stupidity of the mainstream media:

• Donald Trump marrying (Mrs. Trophy Supermodel Trump according to Dave)
• The Gates in Central Park by Christo
• Robert Blake walking from murder charges
• Michelle Jackson walking from molestation charges
• Jennifer Wilbanks (the Runaway Bride) and her freaky eyes walking away from her wedding
• Terry Schiavo not walking away from anything for a very long time
• Dan Rather walking away from CBS News
• Natalee Holloway walking away from her tour guide in Aruba
• Martha Stewart finally walks away from jail

All shit I never cared about. Okay, so I was briefly interested in the Martha Story. But only so she could be on Dave again.

What will be the first media distraction invented for 2006? Only time will tell.

I Can't Believe It's Not Margarine

If you want to see the 800 pound butter sculpture, you'd better get to Pennsylvania Farm Show Complex before it warms up and starts oozing. Otherwise, you can see it all online.

That's just one swell picture from the extravaganza. There are lots more.

Now where can I get an 1200 pound potato and a big ass lobster?

I wonder how the artist of this particular exhibit chose to work in the butter medium? I thought stone too mundane for the nuance of a milk cart. So I went with butter.

I may have to try something on my own this weekend. I'm not sure whether my art will be expressed with mashed potatoes, macaroni & glue or glitter.

Happy arts & crafts weekend, kids.

Long Beautiful Hair

As I was waiting for the Rose Bowl to start, the phone rang. Without thinking and figuring it was probably my Dad calling to make a bet with me, I picked up. This is contrary to my very nature, but should indicate how National Championship Fever and the run up/orgy of football over the past week had me.

"Hello?"

"Hi, this is Heather from Childen without Hair."

"Heather, you're calling during the Rose Bowl."

"The Rose Bowl? Is that now?"

"Heather, take me off your list and buy those kids a hat." Click.

Wife: "Who was that?"

Me: "Children Without Hair. Apparently we've fixed everything but follicles."

Now I don't know if this is a legitimate charity. It certainly sounds like a scam to me. But I'm guessing Heather's night didn't get any better with her other calls.

And I was so amazed that someone called before the start of the game that I forgot my favorite line -- I only donate to cheerleader car washes.

Rah Rah.

You Know I Can't Dance

Wow, didn't think I'd be quoting Leo Sayer anytime this year. And Leo, "international acclaimed singer songwriter entertainer?" *choke* That's bullshit. I thought you were dead. At least your career.

Which brings us to these folks from Dancing With the Stars:

Lisa Rinna: Never heard of you.
George Hamilton: Zorro the Gay Blade and Love at First Bite. You're more famous for being famous than you really are in terms of famousity.
Giselle Fernandez: Another blank. Who?
P. Miller (aka Master P): Some rapper. What he sang, I have no idea.
Tia Carrere: From Wayne's World to this? How the mightly have fallen.
Kenny Mayne: He's always been pretty funny on ESPN. I'm hoping he thinks this is just a big goof. A gig's a gig and rent is rent after all.
Tatum O'Neal: The only more tragic figure than Tia. She won an Academy Award for god's sake. I hope papa Ryan is really embarrassed. Participation may just be a desperate ploy to get work again.
Jerry Rice: You're going to take shit at every 49er's reunion for the rest of your life.
Stacy Keibler: Another blank. Seriously, who are these people? This isn't even the D List. Was Kathy Griffin not available? Because she'll say yes to anything.
Drew Lachey: When they're having to introduce you as Nick's brother, that's a pretty good indication you're no one.

I swear this list should be followed by "And Lo, the Seventh Seal Opened and armageddon was upon us.

Don't watch this shit, people. If you watch crap like this, they put it on again. Read a book. Talk to a loved one. Go buy a TIVO so you can watch whatever you want, whenever you want. Just say "HELL NO" to this kind of crap.

Hollywood is derivative. There are no new ideas. We're already getting skating because of the dancing. I can't believe that Celebrity Colonoscopy is far away. Oh, wait, Katie Couric already did that. Maybe Celebrity Mammograms. I'm sure Fox is working on that. And with boobies, you know it'll be a hit.

Nuts About Safe Sex

A man in Silt, Colorado, has reportedly found a bright yellow condom inside of a hazelnut. He purchased the mixed nuts from Wal-Mart. Gee, I'd have figured Wal-Mart to be prolife.

Anyway, it appears to be an actual nut and not a plastic one. No one can see how there was any tampering with the nut. And I think we all know how painful that can be.

They're not pursuing any legal claim against either Wal-Mart or the nut distributor, Diamond Foods. So you know it's not a Wendy's chili hoax claim here.

Quote of the story: "I don't think a judge would give any money for a condom in a nut." Our protagonist is clearly inexperienced in the ways of our judicial system. I'm guessing that she's already had an ambulance chaser call her though.

As always, there are unanswered questions here. Man, I can't stand sloppy journalism.

Someone actually eats hazelnuts? I thought those were just the leftover, crappy nuts that got tossed along with the Filberts.

How cheap are you that you're buying mixed nuts out of the bulk bin at Wal-Mart? Anything could be in there.

Did you use the condom? That's like an omen. Maybe it's a magic condom and if the wife rubs it, it'll grant wishes. Or at least one wish maybe. That'd be a great prank to pull on your squeeze when you want some. It could be like your own little code. "The condom is in the nut. Repeat, the condom is in the nut."

Wouldn't you like to have "Nut Supplier" on your business card? Man, that's even better than "Utility Infielder" or "Lord of all I survey."

Does this mean you get to graze in the bulk food bins at Wal-Mart and eat whatever you want while your shopping? I'd be pushing for something free from the store at least. Maybe free nuts from Diamond Foods. And I'd pushing for all cashews not some crappy nut mix. Mixed nuts, like Mixed Fruit jelly, is just the leftovers. If you eat that crap, you're crazy.

What brand of condom was it? Seriously, how many manufacturers of bright yellow condoms can there be out there? A little dedication for crying out loud.

Lohan Jive, Everybody Lohan Jive

Lindsay Lohan has been hospitalized.

Her people are saying it's because she broke a blood vessel in her neck after an asthma attack at a New Year's Eve party. Apparently, Herbie wasn't the only thing "fully loaded" last year.

Bullshit. It's because she finally ate a sandwich. A cocaine sandwich at that. I wish I could take credit for that, but I owe it all to Ernie. Remember, it's not stealing if you give credit or attribute or footnote. Isn't that right, Mr. Biden?

What other possible spurious injury rationales could they come up with for LL?

• voodoo
• brain freeze from rapid Slurpee consumption
• nailgun prank gone awry
• od from Bolivian Marching Powder
• scanner target
• vampire attack

And if you don't get the article title, think Grease. The key to any good joke is having to 'splain it. Now I've totally got "Hand Jive" stuck in my head. Damn.

Flipper Over

In Jerusalem, a lady recently married a dolphin. Yes, you read that correctly. She married a dolphin. Not a Miami Dolphin, but an an actual aquatic mammal.

Sharon Tendler married Cindy in a modest ceremony at the Dolphin Reeef in Southern Israel.

Now I don't want to get off on a rant here about interspecies mating, but if the dolphin is male, why is he named Cindy? Is that an Israeli thing?

Quote of the story: It's not a perverted thing. I do love this dolphin. He's the love of my life.

I'm sure no one could see a story about a woman marrying a dolphin and think it's a perverted thing. No one was even thinking about that. I'm amazed you even thought to bring it up.

You know this won't work out. She lives in London while he's in a tank in Israel. I wonder if he married her just to get a green card. Does England have green cards? Well, he married her to get whatever the English equivalent to our green card is.

And does he get to be her beneficiary? If there's a suspicious fish accident and she winds up dead, you know Cindy is going to be the prime suspect. It's always the spouse. I can just see on Israel CSI, where the main character yells right into the camera, "This was no boating accident!"

The story doesn't say anything about their honeymoon. I'm sure he wanted to go swimming and play. She was probably sad that he didn't want to cuddle and talk about their feelings. She probably also didn't appreciate the fish breath.

I didn't realize we were so far behind Israel. We don't even have gay marriage and they have interspecies marriage. You just know this will lead to some guy wanting to marry his truck... or beer.

Medina CSI

Meat Bandit Nabbed in Golf Cart

Yes, I wish that headline wasn't true, but the craziness in Ohio continues.

If you're near Medina, Ohio, you'd better keep your meat locked up. Apparently, Samuel Dottore stole a frozen roast and was making his getaway back to Cleveland.

He had met a couple in a bar and they went to their home. After a few hours, they were driving him to a motel when "he pulled out the frozen meat." Now, I'm not sure who edited this story, but they've left out some pretty obvious questions.

Why'd the couple take this guy back to their house? Yard work, threesome, more cocktails, possible fondue?
What did they do for a few hours? Any of my guesses of above might fit the scenario.
Where did he pull the frozen meat from? This may be nixing the whole threesome theory.

Anyway, the couple decided to just drop Big Sam off by the side of the road. This seems to point that something odd happened. If you're giving someone a ride and you suddenly decide, "That's it. Ride's over," something odd has obviously transpired. I'm guessing it went a little something like "Want to see my frozen meat?" And when he pulls something out of his coat, it's all "We gotta run."

After being ejected from his ride, Sam decides to steal a golf cart and drive 40 miles from Medina to Cleveland. Now I don't know this for a fact as the story doesn't talk about what time it is, but I'm guessing these events transpire at night. If you're cocktailing it at the bar, meet a couple and then go to their house for a few hours, amd then steal a golf cart, it's probably not early afternoon. I'm guessing this whole caper has the cover of darkness going for it.

So Sam is trying to drive 40 miles at night. Now I don't know if you've ever been to Ohio at night in December, but it is not a balmy clime. This may, however, explain how Sam's meat has remained frozen. Needless to say, a golf cart does not make a good getaway ride and Sam got pinched by the police.

The Quote of the Story: In court, Dottore told the judge he'd been drinking that day, and that alcohol mixed with the psychiatric medication he takes affects his judgment.

This may be a bit of an understatement. And by drinking "that day," Sam meant every day.

Wow, there's a lot going on there. The good news is that Sam is free on bail and is available for your parties! Please try not to serve roast beast, but if you do, keep an eye on Sam around the buffet table.

Chia Heavy Petting

One of the fellow drones here at Virtucon actually put down hard earned cash to purchase a Chia Pet. I can only surmise that the people who invented the Chia Pet thought that watching paint dry was too much fun and thought watching grass grow was somehow more soothing. This purchase also signals the dangers of sipping and shopping.

That someone would willingly squander $15 on almost 4 cents worth of merchandise got me thinking. Why can't I get in on the Chia Scam? I've got bad ideas all the time.

My idea -- Chia Ass. It combs with a little tiny comb so you can style the ass hair as it grows out on the cheeks.

But then my secretary had an even better idea--the Chia Groin. Available in both a men's and women's version, you can do your own "landscaping" to make any type of attractive patch you'd like. Not available in Brasil.

You just know these products will set off the religous right. And that means free publicity for the product. These are going to go like hotcakes, kids.

But now I've got that ch-ch-ch-ch-ia jingle stuck in my head. That's got to go.

And now a Chia Haiku:

Ch-ch-ch-chia

Will this get rich quick scheme work?

Please give me your cash.

Who Will Be Third?

I've written about this before, but celebrities always bite the dust in threes. It's a well known fact. And we've got two down with one to go (and unfortunately probably before the end of the year.

#1 was Vincent Schiavelli. That's his lovely mug over there on the right. You may not recognize the name, but you probably recognize the name. He was in such famous movies as One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, Fast Times at Ridgemont High, Better Off Dead and Buckeroo Banzai. Yes, those are listed in order of cinematic importance. You may not have known that Vanity Fair had named him one of America's best character actors and that he had written three cookbooks. He was living in Italy and was only 57 when he died of cancer. Stay away from those smokes kids. They're nicknamed cancer sticks for a reason.

#2 is Michael Vale. Again you won't know the name, but you probably recognize the face. Yup it's the "It's time to make the doughnuts" Guy. Born in Brooklyn, Vale went to drama school with such notables as classmates Tony Curtis, Ben Gazzara and Rod Steiger. To bad for them they got to make a bunch of movies while Mikey starred in over 1300 commercials. A flack from the doughnut maker said Mikey "became a beloved American icon that permeated our culture and touched millions with his sense of humor and humble nature." This character in all those commercials was known as Fred the Baker. I did not know that, said Mr. Carson.

I do know that when I used to drink and dial in school one of my late night classics was waking up someone who didn't go out with us with "It's Time to Make the Doughnuts." That still makes me laugh to this day.

So be on Deathwatch 2005 for the rest of the year, kids. They always go in threes.

But Where's the Gigantic Snow Penis?

You can tell it's still a pretty slow news week because crap like this is still making it into the media. Yup, it's another Xmas display.

This 20 foot tall snowman (check out the house for some perspective) is in Akron, Ohio. For the geographically challenged, that's in the Northeastern part of the state.

I don't know where folks get the time to do this kind of stuff. It's all I can do to get packages wrapped and show up for work.

Now I've got relatives and friends who still live in Akron. And I can tell you one thing I know for certain, liquor was involved.

But if my relatives had pulled this caper off, a baseball bat would have been involved instead of those coal buttons.

You Say Potato, I Say Spud

Here's hoping ya'll scored the sweet Xmas booty and loot you truly wanted. It was truly a miraculous Xmas for yours truly. No clothes at all! The Amazon wish list is truly a godsend.

Wife scored sweet purses and is already using one of them. I was afraid she wouldn't like them as they're a little different. I also had her old diamond from her wedding ring and a pink pearl made into a pendant. She seemed happy and slightly amazed that I had the wherewithal to pull it off. Not from a financial standpoint, but from a style perspective. Because, after all, we men are just bears with pants.

Pre-Xmas dinner was fab as well. Prime Rib (which I've cooked before) with a horseradish sauce on the side and mashed potatoes. I can't believe that in all of my years of being the official chef of Shaque D'amour that I've never mashed a potato. Probably from being a devotee of the baked spud (and laziness).

Simply put, I can't believe any self-respecting home chef would ever mash a spud. Too much freakin' work. Peel, cut, boil, mash, blend, reheat and serve. Way too much work for this lazybones. They came out well, but man, I'm not going through that again. There's a good reason I like the Naked Chef. Low on fuss, high on flavor.

Now I gotta get my shit in gear for New Year's. No party, but Wife is requesting a Night of Romance. Love talk, hot monkey love, then cuddling. I snarkily asked what we'd do after 40 minutes had passed. Crickets in response.

Better get my thinking cap on.

Santa Kicks Some Ass

The Free Market News Network (hey, I haven't heard of them either) is reporting, that Santa not only knows whether you're being naughty and nice. He also knows how to kick your ass if you try any of the rough stuff.

Yep, the Jolly Old Elf himself chased off seven hooligans with an artificial Christmas tree. And he didn't start opening up the can of whup ass either. Apparently the "yutes" (thank you, Cousin Vinnie) knocked Santa down with a shopping cart first. So while Santa has many powers, Spidey Sense to warn him of impending danger isn't one of them.

Quote of the Story: "They were calling me a fraud and a fake. If it had happened on the street, I might have acted differently. I'd have given them a few choice words, but you can't do that dressed as Santa."

A cursing Santa? Never. But a Ninja Santa? Awesome.

Where is Trophy Wife Barbie?

I know we're all supposed to be culturally tolerant, diverse and appreciate opposing viewpoints.

But seriously, wtf. Which doll would you rather play with?

That's Fulla the Muslim doll who is Barbie's counterpart in the Muslim world and is supposed to be the fastest selling toy in the Middle East. Seriously, I'm not making this up.

My guess is that the Xbox 360 can't be found in the Middle East either. So in that sense, we're all alike after all.

Is Fulla also getting a Malibu Dream House, a sports car, or the take along case. If I were Ken, I'd be worried about what's under than burka.

Hope Santa brings you what you want, kids. Even if it is a Fulla doll.

Worthless Narcissist Crap

I'm Not a Girl, Not Yet a Wino was nice enough to include two of my little "episodes" in her Best of 2005 list in the Humor and Sports Categories. Thanks for the inclusion.

The two selected entries are:

Rudi in the Sky With Santa

Wie, Wie, Wie All the Way Home

Obviously, there was no scientific voting and no accounting firm audited the results. I think it's mostly just the matter of having smart ass headlines. This is also the reason the NY Post is woefully unappreciated as great literature. But then most of it is fictional.

And in my defense, none my TO rants are included in the Sports category. Of course, I'm not sure a stream of consciousness about how TO is an assbag really counts as a post about sports.

If you want to read some good stuff and not just my early morning ramblings, head over there for some enlightened discourse.

Now This is a Display

I'm not certain if this counts or not.

Gotta love the headline, "Police whack giant snow penis." Wonder if they wore gloves or used lubricant when they were whacking it? They should have thrown milk around afterward.

Quote of the story: Now we're going to get snow penises popping up all over town.

Granted it's nothing as nice as a Santa holding a severed head, but anytime you can say to your parents, "Um, there's a gigantic snow penis on the lawn," that's got to earn you some points.

I can honestly say that when I was dating, I never had a girl like me enough to sculpt a gigantic snow penis on my lawn. But that's probably just as well.

There's a line in "Some Enchanted Evening" that says "once you have found her, never let her go." Basically it's Rodgers and Hammerstein's way of saying, "she's a keeper." I'd say that this young girl is a keeper. Any girl who loves you enough to create a gigantic phallic symbol where everyone in town will see it, probably doesn't embarrass easily. She also had the presence of mind to make it gigantic. High praise, indeed. How you explain to your parents why she's so familiar with the old block and tackle is another story. Probably just give your Dad and wink and mumble something about "moths to the flame" and let him deal with Mom.

And how do I know that "gigantic snow penis" is going to get all sort of search engine traffic for people that really aren't looking for my smart ass blog?

More Scary Xmas Displays

The use of decidely non-traditional Christmas displays is not limited to the confines of Oklahoma (where the wind comes sweeping down the plain).

There are also murderous displays in Manhattan. This display is described as:

A scene that includes a knife-wielding 5-foot-tall St. Nick and a tree full of decapitated Barbie dolls. Hidden partly behind a tree, the merry old elf grasps a disembodied doll's head with fake blood streaming from its eye sockets.

Now I'm no psychologist (and don't even play one on tv), but there's a lot going on there. A lot that you don't want to have any part of.

I'll confess to previously being wholly unaware of any of this type of Xmas display prior to this year. And I thought I lived next to some whackos before. Just be happy these aren't your neighbors.

CSI: North Pole or Ho, Ho, Ohhhhh...

If those Salvation Army bell ringers, unending Christmas carols, crowded shopping malls and rude sales clerks are already getting to you, this is for you.

In Oklahoma (where the wind comes sailing down the plain), the Dent Depot in Oklahoma City has a Christmas display you'll definitely want to see. Enjoy the pix and the swell video goodness.
Santa is snuffed and face down on the ground with an arrow in his back. There are also reindeer doing crowd control and crime scene tape. A Grinch holding a bow and arrow will be added to the roof.

Which of course raises the question of whether the Grinch acted alone. Maybe we can hold a congressional hearing into the whole matter.

Ravenous Squirrel Pack

WARNING: NOT FOR THE SQUEAMISH (YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED)

I've written before about how it's been brought to my attention that all animals everywhere want to kill us. Tim Bedore is the genius who uncovered the consipracy.

And while squirrels have usually been confined to providing recon for the larger, biting, killing weapons of mass destruction, that's over. It's time to be afraid, be very afraid, kids. Squirrels have moved from being mere spotters to the front line grunts in the War on Man.

A stray dog was barking at squirrels in a tree. The squirrel response? "They literally gutted the dog," said local journalist Anastasia Trubitsina.

Then they ran away with pieces of the flesh! This tell us that they are barbarian squirrels ignoring the rules of the Geneva Convention on the treatment of war casualties. They're worse than the Taliban! It must be true because it's on the interweb and it's from a Soviet Newspaper.

So watch your chimney or that next barking dog may be you! Do not under any circumstances carry nuts or acorns in your pockets unless you have a death wish.

Everyone Loves Good Head (Lines)

As you can probably tell if you read this lil pile o' goofy on a fairly regular basis, I love a great headline.

I don't think the folks who write for the New York Post get their journalistic kudos for the wacky (and most likely alliterative) headlines they come up with on a daily basis.

And while I'm tooting my own horn, I've managed a couple that bordered on genius (or at least cringeworthy) efforts:

• Wie, Wie, Wie All the Way Home (about Michelle Wie)
• Vikes, Vikes Baby (about the Minnesota Vikings Love Boat sex scandal)
• TO, TO, It's Off the Team You Go (about Assbag Owens)
• Lesbian Cheerleader Bathroom Sex Catfight (about the Carolina Panthers)

Actually, I don't think that last one is that clever, but I think it's funny how it improves my search engine rankings from all the pervs looking for pix. Get over it, boys!

So it was with some delight that I read the St. Petersburg Times actually issued an apology to its readership for too many punning headlines. It's true.

For the record, here are the transgressions of the Times:

• Welcome back, clutter (about junk accumulating in our houses)
• Caws for celebration (about urban crows)
• Ex-es of evil (about politicians and their former wives)

Maybe I can start freelancing for those guys?

Pranksgiving aka Turkey Hijinx

I realize that it's too late to pull these off for Thanksgiving. Thus, trot these out for Xmas.

#1) Take the neck of the turkey and insert it into your fly. Answer the door with it hanging out of your pants. Do not mention the "exposure" to anyone. Act as if it's completely natural.

#2) Cook a cornish game hen the day before dinner. Insert it into the turkey prior to cooking. When the turkey is done, remove the hen and loudly proclaim, "We must have gotten a pregnant bird." This really freaks out the pro-lifers. Eventually explain to them that turkeys lay eggs. Dummies.

#3) Post a sign at work (anonymously of course) that promises free turkeys to anyone who shows their badge or business card at a local grocery store. Explain that it's a "Your Business" Customer Appreciation Event. Just go talk to the manager and request your free turkey. Yes, you will have people you work with who are gullible enough to fall for this.

Have fun kids!

Rudi in the Sky with Santa

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

And it's that great/crappy claymation that you love. And it's a great drinking game to take a sip everytime Rudolph's nose lights up. We used to play in law school and called it, "He Lights, You're Lit." It's a classic. Don't get me started about showing Xmas specials before it's even December.

Now because I've seen this show so many times (and can actually do most of the dialogue), I have an appreciation for the various subtexts of the show. Despite being guised as a children's show, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer is actually a recognition of the constant struggle of man versus nature. There are, however, many unresolved questions in the show.

• Sam the Snowman frequently displays omnipotence throughout his narration. Is he a manifestation of God?
• The prejudice against Rudolph's nose is clearly anti-Semitism. Rudolph's friend Fireball is obviously a reference to the Holocaust. Is the Santa character a Nazi or a representation of Satan and the evil within every man?
• Rudolph's cries of "I'm cude, I'm cuuuuude" represent the failure of the modern educational system. Despite his superious flying skills, Rudolph is ostracized because of his infatuation with Clarisse. Detail the homo-erotic undertones in the reindeer practice.
• Why doesn't Yukon Cornelius just use his gun to shoot the Bumble? It is entirely appropriate to yell at the tv, "Use your gun, Yukon Cornelius" throughout the entirety of the movie.
• Should the elves unionize? Why are they denied dental benefits?
• All the elf women are identical. Is this an argument for cloning?
• Clarisse's eyelashes are clearly fake. How does she apply them when reindeer lack opposable thumbs?
• Mrs. Claus is trying to kill Santa through food and her frequent exhortations to "Eat, Papa, Eat!" Does no one really like a skinny Santa or is Mrs. Claus merely a representation of the gluttony and rampant consumerism of the modern holiday season?
• King Moonracer won't even consider non-misfits staying on the island. Does his monarchy represent the oppression of democracy or merely the gradual decay brought on by European feudalism?
• What's wrong with the Doll on the Island of Misfit Toys? Incontentinence? Psychological instability? Depression? Multiple personalities?
• Charlie in the Box is undoubtedly a reference to the Vietnam War. Is King Moonracer really a characicture of Lyndon Baines Johnson and expansionist Asian policies?
• Rudoph's Mother and Clarisse are initially denied helping search for Rudolph because as Donner explains, "This is man's work." Is the plight of women in Rudolph representative of the disenfranchisement of women in the entire Muslim culture or merely women in the American workplace?
• The worst snowstorm ever is 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 Bumbles 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?

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

Mooch is Free

It's being reported that Detroit Lion head coach Steve Mariucci (aka Mooch) is being fired today. The press conference is scheduled for 4:00 pm EST.

I'm of the opinion that Mooch should have to stay here and suffer with the rest of us.

If you're not that familiar with "Lion style" football, note the following salient facts:

• won 1 playoff game since 1957
• before he joined the Lions, Mooch was 60-43 in 6 years as the head coach of the 49ers
• after he joined the Lions, Mooch was 15-28
• since team President Matt Millen joined the organization, the Lions are an NFL worst 20-55 (this record earned Millen a 5 year contract extension earlier this year)

Yep, Steve, you sure got dumb once you moved back to Michigan. I just feel sorry for whatever poor sucker gets this job next. That'll probably be head coach Dick Jauron the current defensive coordinator. Oh, and he was the former head coach of the Chicago Bears and stunk when he coached there (record of 35-46). Somehow that seems fitting for the Lions.

The Lions really are one of the shittiest franchises in professional sports.

Thanks for the Giving

It's official. Assbag (aka T.O.) isn't going to play the rest of the year after the arbitrator upheld the Eagles actions concerning their wayward wide receiver. So TO sits for the remainder of the year. Man, I'm thankful we won't have to hear TO run his jib anymore.

And Gene Upshaw, nice move dismissing arbitrator Richard Bloch (who made the decision in the TO hearing) from the pool of NFLPA arbitrators. Classy. Yup in true sour grapes fashion after losing the case, the players union won't let Bloch rule on any more matters. I'm thankful I don't work for Gene Upshaw who fires anyone who rules against him.

I'm also thankful that Nick Lachey is a free man. Yes, the stars of Newlyweds, Jessica Simpson and Nick Lachey have officially separated. It just proves that a man will eventually tire of a stupid woman no matter how big her boobs are. I confess to watching Newlyweds and thinking that Nick was a saint to put up with that bubblehead. And you know its serious because the split was made in a joint statement by their publicists. Ah, true love. No word on the rumors that the split was over an argument about Jessica attending medical school. I can't wait to start selling my "Nick is Free" t-shirts online.

Quote of the Week aka It Ain't All About the Bread

It's a doozy this week. If you haven't heard, the Detroit Lions have filed a grievance against their receiver Charles Rogers seeking the return of some 10 million dollars of his 14 million dollar signing bonus because of his recently failed drug test. Got that? They gave him 14 extra large when they drafted him and now they want some of it back because Charles likes the chronic more than practice. But then who doesn't.

I especially like that they hold Charles responsible for his conduct off the field. Yet the people who brought Charles to Detroit (and I'm talking to you Matt Millen) somehow aren't responsible for the outcome of their decision. Hmmm, interesting how that works.

When asked how he could play hard for a team that was trying to take back 10 million dollars, Charles replied with this little gem:

"Because this is football, man. This is the game you love, man. We was playing this game for free when we was born. It ain't all about the bread, you know?"

Just remember that as you go shopping this holiday season, kids. It ain't all about the bread, indeed, Charles.

Make sure to root for the lowly Lions against those godless heathens the Falcons in the Turkey Day Bowl. And don't forget to root against TO in the arbitration hearing. The results are due today.

Shameless Corporate Shilling (Updated)

I've said it before and I'll say it again: I love corporate shilling. I get such joy from reading some flack's copy that is utter bullshit and that doesn't even pass the straight face test. I don't know why I'm wired that way, but I find this crap hi-fucking-larious.

If you used to live in Clark, Texas, now you live in DISH, Texas. Yes, wily corporate weasels are rubbing their hands together over this coup.

Rejected names for Dish, TX included:

• You'll have to buy another receiver if you want two shows, TX
• More porn than you can possibly consume, TX
• Damn that's a big saucer, TX
• Nothing good is on, TX
• Reality shows still suck, TX

This idea might catch on. What if other companies sponsored other cities?

• Love Canal, renamed Trojan, NY
• Salt Lake City renamed Budweiser, UT
• Kansas City renamed Chili's Babyback Ribs, MO
• New York City renamed Kevlar Jacket, NY

Maybe you can think of others kids? I've been laying off the creativity juice lately so I'm not hitting on all cylinders in the craziness department lately.

UPDATED 11/23: Per Kris's request, here add my add on's for our nation's capitol: (yes it really is that slow at work today)

DC would probably have to be auctioned off to the highest bidder:

• Chico's Bail Bonds, DC (for those pesky indictments)
• Pinkerton, DC (for all your special investigatory needs)
• Charles Schwab, DC (because we know Senators have all the best stock tips)
• Hustler, DC (we know how you pick your interns)
• eBay, DC (because everyone is for sale)
• Sprint, DC (because you need anytime minutes when all you do is talk)
• Ogilvy & Mather, DC (because it's all about the spin)
• Kodak, DC (for all those photo ops)
• Michelin, DC (we never leak)
• Federal Express, DC (when the bribe absolutely, positively has to be there overnight)
• The National Guard, DC (all the photo ops, none of the danger)
• Crack, DC (good enough for Marion, good enough for you)

I'm a Victim I tell ya

It's not my fault. I'm a victim of my heritage.

Driver says he drank a lot because of his heritage

I'm using this excuse the next St. Patrick's Party I go to.

I do know a 100% Irishman who doesn't drink at all. I secretly think that's why they kicked him out of Ireland and forced him to do IT work here in the States.

Quote of the Week

It's my favorite subject, the assbaggery of TO and his slimy agent, Drew Rosenhaus.

"He's [Rosenhaus] a rat that belongs in the gutter. I can smell him a mile away. That guy doesn't care about Terrell. He's recruiting for next year's player."

--Cowboys wide receiver, Keyshawn Johnson in his weekly NFL Sirius Radio Show

Here's hoping that TO loses his grievance hearing today.

Ralph & Jesse: Together Again

Despite all of TO's continued assbaggery, some new shitheads have weighed in on the issue. Both Ralph Nader and Jesse Jackson have issued statements against the Eagles decision to not play TO the remainder of the year.

It's good to see that we've cured cancer, eliminated racism and made all products safe so that we can focus on this truly important issue to all mankind.

And if you're in Philadelphia, PA today (Friday 11/18) and near the airport, please drop by the Marriott hotel where they'll be holding TO's grievance hearing. Look for either TO, Jesse or tv cameras because they're always together.

I hereby promise that if anyone who reads this blog drops by the hearing and disrupts it with cries of "ASSBAG," I'll personally send $100. Of course, I'll need a little verification of the shenanigan, but I'm betting anyone yelling ASSBAG at TO will make the news.

Observations From Abroad

Your trusty correspondent has returned from his adventure in the Third World. And while I've been a complete slack ass (in that it took over 2 weeks to get this posted), I'll try to keep this recap short. Because reading about someone's trip to someplace you've never been and probably aren't going to go is even worse than looking at their slides from that trip. Online pictures, strangely, are okay. But man, I remember after a dinner when people would get out the old slide projector, turn off the lights and match you watch slides. It could have been worse, it could have been PowerPoint presentations. Anyway....

Here are the observations from the big excursion:

1) If you decide you have to go to China, don't just go to the airport to buy tickets. There's a whole online world out there that you can use to plan your trip. And when you find out, amazingly, that all six of you can't go to China at the drop of a hat, don't flip a coin because the people behind you don't think you're being whimsical, they think you're being assholes. And if someone wants to send you through Europe to send you to China and tells you it'll take 30 hours, you're getting fucked, but you're too stupid to know it. China is to the West of the US, schmucko.

2) Don't tuck your red corduroy pants into your cowboy boots. Trust me, it's not a good look.

3) Children should never be allowed on an airplane much less in first class. And why are you bringing your urchins on vacation? Leave them with the grandparents so we can all enjoy some peace and quiet.

4) Getting your trophy wife pregnant is bad form. It's bad enough she's trying to do the whole Brittany thing while she's knocked up, but if you have a two year old, a one year old and she's knocked up, we get it already. We're sorry your first wife was so emasculating and that now you have to compensate for it. But as Groucho Marx said, "I love a good cigar too, but I take it out of my mouth once in a while."

5) Seats on an airplane are numbered from one to infinity depending on how big the plane is. If you're in the 30th row, and you get on the plane, then immediately look at your ticket, we know you're an idiot.

6) Memphis rocks. There are even better bands in the alleys of Beale Street than in your whole town.

7) The Jamaican people are the happiest people in the world. Even happier than Canadians when they drink and watch Hockey Night in Canada. I've never, ever, seen a maid sing while doing her job in any other country.

8) Jamaican funerals are freaky. They walk from the church to the burial site because the living are supposed to go before the deceased. Which kind of makes sense, because that guy isn't going to be any help getting a hole dug. And when 200 people are walking on the road toward you, you shouldn't lean out the bus to take picutres of "the parade" because when you finally see the hearse (including a guy riding on top), you look like an ugly American. I'm very glad this wasn't me.

9) Jerk chicken and Red Stripe are the best food combination ever. And can be lived on forever apparently. You'll never get tired of it.

10) Fishing with dynamite is bad for your coral reefs. Just a little tip kids.

11) When you return home, you'll see lots of jerks but not so many jerk chicken shacks.

12) Northwest Airlines is very helpful about booking you on another flight when they cancel the one that would have gotten you home. They do expect you to sleep in the airport though. Tough luck, bud. Okay, so this one really isn't an observation from abroad; it's just an observation.

If Theo Isn't Happy

I'm kind of worried about this. While I was abroad, Theo Epstein quit his job as General Manager of the Red Sox.

Theo was a life long Sox fan, got to be the youngest GM in the history of baseball and the youngest GM to ever assemble a World Series champion. Can you really fathom being a lifelong fan and then getting to run the organization you love? All the times you watched some sporting team, complained about how the fucker in charge couldn't find their ass with two hands, then you got handed the reins. You got to call the shots and make all the decisions. And you were succesful.

Then you walk away from it all.

Ow, this may be hitting me harder than the Jen/Brad break up. If Theo isn't happy at work, what chance does any of us have? Ouch.

That being said, I still don't think I could do any worse a job with the Lions than Matt Millen.

Quote of the Week

I haven't done this in a while (because I'm a slack ass), but this one is good.

Drew Rosenhaus, TO's shitbag agent had a press conference where he basically answered none of the questions. He just kept saying, "Next question" and refused to answer any questions.

No, Drew isn't our quote of the week. It's one of the reporters:

"Drew! Drew! What have you done for him [TO], other than to get him kicked off the team?''
-- An unidentified reporter

It may come as no surprise that this ended the conference. And while I wish I knew who asked it, my hat is off to you, intrepid, smart-ass reporter.

Lost on Appeal

A 24 year old woman in Norway has lost her appeal that she did not rape a man while he was asleep.

In a courtroom that was surely packed with gigglers, the man asserted that while he was asleep, the woman had performed oral sex on him without his consent. I thought it was impossible to not consent to oral sex when you're asleep. I mean that bad boy has a mind of it's own even when we men are awake. Asleep, forget about it.

And I think we all owe this man a round of applause because he obviously possesses willpower far beyond that of normal men. "Hey, hey, what's going on here? Cut that out. Stop it! I am an unwilling victim a forcible blow job. I asked you to stop that, Miss. That's it, I won't lay still for this any longer."

While there has been no decision on the length of the woman's sentence (I'll skip the obvious joke about 6 inches here), she has been offered an internship with Bill Clinton.

Thanks and goodnight, ladies and germs. Blogger audiences are the greatest audiences in the world. Remember to tip you bartenders and waitstaff. You're beautiful.

Shocked to Find Gambling in Casablanca

In the most obvious headline ever: Students Busted for Having Sex While on Field Trip.

Why? Because they can. Duh. Man, I wish I'd have thought of that in high school. Who knew you could get laid by joining the Naval ROTC?

Quote of the story: “Sex during a field trip?” says SWHS student David Ramirez. “It’s real shocking."

Yup, unsupervised high school students wanting to have sex. No mere mortal could have seen that one coming.

In their defense, because they're in the Naval ROTC, they were seamen. If I ran the military, they'd all get medals. Maybe the Blue Ball of Honor?

Okay, I'll stop it now.

Enlightened Discourse & TO

Sally Jenkins of the Washington Post writes a very enlightened and analytical article about Terrell Owens.

She claims that he's a narcissist because he can't even apologize to others without talking about himself. Someone who writes for the Harvard Business Review argues that TO can't be considered a great player because he can't get along with other and poisons team chemistry. At best, TO is technically proficient at his job of catching footballs.

Me, I'm content to short cut the analysis with the simple answer that TO is an assbag.

Man, some people think to much. But then when you've got to fill a 1000 word column, what can you do? Nice try, Sal. But he's an just an assbag.

Lesbian Cheerleader Bathroom Sex Catfight

If you haven't heard about the furor, two cheerleaders from the Carolina Panthers were arrested over the weekend for allegedly having sex in a bathroom stall at a bar in Tampa. The bar is called Banana Joes so there's a bit of irony right there. When patrons got angered that they couldn't get into the bathroom, one of the two girls hit someone. I'm guessing when they were finished. And one of the girls (who was only 20) gave a fake ID to the cops. Oops.

According to Google, this is the second most popular search request right now.

I really don't get the fascination with this story. Sure, the cheerleaders are probably attactive because they're members of the TopCats (the Panthers lame name for their cheerleading squad). But if this is the closest you can get to soft-core lesbian porn, you obviously don't know anything about cable television.

Is it the cheerleader fantasy? That's really never done it for me. Probably because at every sporting event I've ever been to, the cheerleaders just get in the way of the game I'm trying to watch. The cheerleaders don't fire up the crowd, good plays fire up the crowd.

And sex in a public restroom? Ick. Now I'm no germophobe, but what's wrong with a perfectly good car in the parking lot of the bar like God intended? These girls are messed up if they'd rather get in on on a bathroom floor.

Too bad this couldn't have happened earlier in the season, because Lesbian TopCat Cheerleaders would have made a great Halloween costume for two girls.

And Banana Joes's won't discuss the incident, but they are willing to profit from it. This weekend anyone dressed like a cheerleader gets free cover.

Who's Sorry Now?

This just in.....TO is sorry. He's apoligizing to the fans, the coach, the owner and Donovan McNabb. You know, the guy who's supposed to throw him the ball.

I'll bet he's really sorry, however, about missing out on $800,000 in salary for the 4 games he's suspended. Oh, and possibly having to fork over 1.8 million of his signing bonus. I know that would make me sorry.

I'm just glad he read his prepared statement with his weasely agent, Drew Rosenhaus, at his side. Nothing says sincerity in an apology like the warm, basking, remora-like face of your agent at your side. All is forgiven, TO. Just him the damn ball.

Strangely, the Eagles were unmoved and haven't changed their position about kicking TO off the team. Good for you, Eagles. Stick to your guns. It's probably onlya matter of time before TO is a Raider anyway.

T.O., T.O., It's Off The Team You Go

My wife recently said, "Hey, something's up with that guy you hate." She was, of course, talking about Terrell Owens.

And yes, it's true, I hate the assbag. I hate him as only you can hate the extremely talented who piss it all away. It's no secret. And Terrell's tragic fatal flaw (no, not hubris), his mouth, has gotten him in trouble again.

Terrell was pissy that the Public Relations department of the Philadelphia Eagles didn't make a bigger deal out of his 100th career touchdown reception. Specifically, he said the Eagles organization showed a "lack of class." Mr. Kettle, a Mr. Pot on the phone for you. When informed that the Eagles never celebrated individual milestones like this, TO still couldn't seem to keep his yap shut. Instead, he went on tv and agreed that the Eagles would be undefeated if they had Brett Favre as their quarterback. Then to cap things off, he got in a fight with Hugh Douglas a former defensive end in the locker room. Hugh's playing weight was over 280 pounds, so TO probably isn't too good at math either.

Finally, the Eagles decided they were a bit tired of TO's shenanigans. They've suspended him for 4 games (that'll cost him about $800,000) and said they won't play him the rest of the year. Luckily, the NFL Players Union has filed a grievance upon TO's behalf. Whew, good thing there's someone to keep those nasty teams from taking advantage of all those millionaire players.

So let's wrap this up. What shouldn't you do if you're on a professional football team:

• call the team "classless" (espcecially when you have no class)
• criticize other team mates (especially the guy who is supposed to throw the ball to you)
• start fights with ex-teammates (especially when they're much bigger than you)

Hmm, that doesn't sound too tough to me.

Immediately after the suspension, the Eagles promptly went out and lost one for the gipper. Sorry to all the Eagles season ticket holders, but you really don't want that assbag on your team.

Even Educated Fleas

As the legendary Cole Porter wrote, "Birds do it, bees do it, even educated fleas do it." Which brings us to the point that even though Ole King Cole would do anything to add 4 syllables to a line about fleas, he was talking about falling in love and not sex.

That being said, I think a verse should be added to the song now that scientists in India have discovered that even fossils do it.

So here goes:

In old Lucknow the fossils do it,

Even Jesus' apostles do it,

Let's do it, let's fall in love.

Oh, great now I'm so going to hell. Oh well, I've probably got front row seats already.

I Can't Take It Anymore

I don't think of myself as naive. But I'm tired of being dragged kicking and screaming into reality. I'd just like to have some of my childhood memories left alone. Of course, I'm talking about Sulu coming out of the closet. Yes, I have kissed a girl and no, I don't live in my parents' basement.

Can't we just let some things be? Did anyone really want to know that Sulu was thinking about how dreamy Chekov was instead of thinking about his lines? Just leave some of my childhood intact. I didn't even really like Star Trek, but I remember getting to watch it with my oldest brother. It's about the only time I remember him not hitting me. Ah, bliss.

So Scotty's dead and Sulu is gay. Next thing you know they'll be telling me that's not Kirk's real hair? What? Can't I have at least some of my fond memories?

Just for that I'm going to emulate "evasive maneuvers" by leaning way over in my chair the rest of the day when anyone asks me for anything.

Vinnifer Lives

It's good to know that some people can get on with their life and periodically the funny man (not the pretty one) can get the girl.

People magazine has published pictures in its latest issue of Vince Vaughn and Jennifer Aniston mashing. Yup, I swiped it for you right over there. Isn't the interweb powerful and wonderful?

Wonder how Vince and Brad will get along the next time they make a movie together like in Mr. & Mrs. Smith? I hope he called and asked first. "Dude, will it freak you if I call your ex?"

And that's going to have to hold you for a while, kids. The wife and I are headed to Jamaica to help in the Hurricane Wilma Relief Efforts. Luckily, we'll be using this place as the base of operations. Ah, the power of the interweb to find travel deals. Be good to each other.

Bond For Failure

There's a new James Bond in town, kids. It's David Craig, the man with two first names. Yup, as usual, that's him over there on the right.

Now, I've never seen Mr. Craig in anything, but he made a movie called Layer Cake, an English gangster film. As I said, I haven't seen it, but is in in my Netflix queue so that says something right there. What it says, I don't know.

He definitely has big shoes to fill. Everyone seems to have their favorite James Bond actor. Sean Connery, George Lazenby, Roger Moore, Timothy Dalton or Pierce Bronsan all played the role of Ian Fleming's super spy. The BBC had people write in about which Bond actor people liked the most. And since they're English and he's with MI6, that makes some sense.

I guess I'd have to go with Sean Connery as the best Bond. But man, is he hairy. That's where Mike Meyers got the inspiration to make Austin Powers such a furball. I hated George Lazenby who was just some Australian model they dug up. And after seeing On Her Majesty's Secret Service about a million times, there's a reason he only lasted one movie. Which is a shame because that movie has the best plot of just about any Bond movie they've ever done.

I liked both Timothy Dalton and Pierce Brosnan in the role. But I still see them as the first role I ever saw them in. Dalton will forever be the Prince in Green Tights from Flash Gordon to me. Yes, I know it's not fair, but I always remember him in those ridiculous tights and that bad wig when I see him. He was excellent in both Rocketeer and License to Kill.

And Pierce will forever be Remington Steele to me. Just look at that ridiculous hair. The 80's were not kind to us kids. Sorry about the crappy placement of that image, but I give. Too bad NBC wouldn't let Pierce out of his contract early when the Bond producers first wanted him.

I loved that show. Why won't they bring back the romantic comedy/murder mystery platform to modern tv? Glen Gordon Caron left after one year to do Moonlighting. Moonlighting, a romantic comedy/mystery platform. Sound familiar? I don't want reality. Reality sucks. I want snappy banter, beautiful people doing ordinary jobs, improbable plots, spine-tingling suspense, wacky chases, and unresolved romatic entanglements. Reality is crappy staff meetings, boring Power Point presentations and annoying office mates. Bleh. How did I get here from a post about James Bond. Wow, is that the tangent of all tangents? I gotta start mapping these posts out or people will think I'm even more scatterbrained than I really am. Oh, man, now my internal voice has taken over and I'm actually writing this stuff. And look how long that paragraph is. No one is going to read this drivel. It might as well be a TPS report. I don't mind the voices in my head, it's that they stutter. How to wrap this up?

Go see the new James Bond movie. Like the new guy or not, because you're stuck with him.

Man is that a lame ending. Talk about your denouement. Sorry kids, I promise to try to do better next time. Mea culpa.

Even More Vikings

Hey, I hear that the Minnesota Vikings have picked the Blue Bay Getaway hotel in Cancun, Mexico for their next team outing.

Quote of the story: "Then there was the quiet pool, but there was still sex going on in there--and it wasn't quiet."

And definitely don't tell those kids from Princeton to go here on Spring Break. They'll hate it.

Vikes, Vikes, Baby

If you live in Minnesota, I pity you. It's not just that the Minnesota Vikings can't seem to get it together on the field (they lost to Chicago 28-3 yesterday in a performance that can only be described as mailed in), but now they're up to no good off the field as well.

Last week several Vikings were implicated in what can only be described as a sex scandal involving two rented charter boats on Lake Minnetonka. Allegedly, a few players rented a couple of boats for a party. And it must have been a pretty good party because the police are describing it as "drunken behavior, nudity and visible sexual activity."

Just think how much fun they could have in the Land of 10,000 Lakes! I guess we know how the NFL teams spend their bye week now. And in the Vikes defense, this is all still under investigation (which means lots of juicy details to come) and only 17 of the players were involved.

Boy, it's a good thing they got rid of that trouble maker Randy Moss. The boat outfit (Al & Alma's) says they have a Supper Club. Maybe that should have been a stripper club?

Here's the best recap if you haven't heard the story. It's the trusty San Jose Mercury News.

The Vikes just hired a former FBI agent as their new head of security. Looks like the party is over guys. But at 1-4 after the loss the Chicago, it's good to know the Vikings aren't just screwing their season ticket holders this year.

Wie, Wie, Wie, All The Way Home

Welcome to the pros, kid.

Sixteen year-old Michelle Wie got disqualified from her first professional tournament after making an incorrect drop. Oops, and because they didn't discover the illegal drop until the next day, that meant she had signed an incorrect scorecard which is an automatic dq. All the details are here (if your that anal about the rules).

Oh, yeah, somebody named Annika Sorenstam won by 8 strokes. Wonder if she was pissed that people only wanted to talk about the youngster all week.

I'm guessing the Sports Illustrated reporter, Michael Bamberger, who got her dq'ed probably won't be getting an exclusive interview anytime soon.

Don't sweat it, kid. You lost out on 4th place in your first pro event and missed the $53,000 in prize money. I'm betting that 10 million in endorsement deals from Nike and Sony will cushion the blow a bit. Sucks to be you, huh?

Abstinence Club

Students from Princeton University have started a group called The Anscombe Society. These losers are actually promoting chastity in college.

Named after Elizabeth Anscombe a Cambridge University professor of Philosophy who was staunchly Catholic and argued for the Church's teachings on sex and abstinence in Contraception and Chastity. Bet that's a swell read.

Yep, that's Elizabeth Anscombe over there. Good looking gal, isn't she? How come the people who argue for chastity are probably the ones who really don't have to worry about that issue ever coming up. It doesn't look to me like Liz is going to have a full dance card.

Remembering how often I stuck out with coeds while I was college and had chastity forced upon me, I don't really think they need a group to promote it.

Another name for the group could be "Don't Invite Us To Your Party."

More of this silliness is at Yahoo.

Quote of the story: "You don't just have sex to have sex." Yeah, there's smoking in the dark afterwards, the guilt, lying to your friends and then that awkward moment when you run into each other later.

It might be nice to visit Cambridge, read old Liz's stuff and then head on over to the London Academy of Sex & Relationships just for the juxtaposition.

Plan Your Trip Now

Developers in London, England have announced plans to open a sexual theme park near Piccadilly Circus. It's true, I'm not making this up.

While I've never been to London (other than the one in Ontario and it's not the same) apparently this is just around the corner from a statue of Eros (captured rather crappily in that photo on the right, but what do you want for free on the interweb) which was erected in 1892 as a tribute to Lord Shaftesbury.

As a brief aside, Lord Shaftesbury is now officially on my list of possible porn aliases. It's right after Buck Naked and before Templeton Tongue.

My favorite part of the story: "Tittilation is not the goal." Huge mistake, kids. Go for the tittilation. Heck, go for it twice. I've never been mistaken in understimating how low the lowest common denominator really is. Is my only excuse for the Jerry Springer show.

I so want a shirt from the London Academy of Sex & Relationships. In fact, if they're not available online right now, they're missing a serious marketing opportunity. How about "I got flunked at the London Academy of Sex & Relationships?"

What would the school colors be? Red & Black. Maybe leather & lace?

School motto: Amo, Amas, A momma. That Latin for "I love, you love, she gets knocked up." Or if that's too high brow. How about Truth, Knowledge, a Great Lay?

School song? Sexual Healing by Marvin Gaye of course. Runner up, Bad Medicine by Bon Jovi because of the immortal lyric: "Your love is like bad medicine. Bad medicine is what I need." Now that's poetry kids.

I gotta go kids. I need to find someone who makes t-shirts on the interweb.

Which is Worse?

In addition to TomKat being preggers, Donald Trump and his new trophy wife (I can't even be bothered to Google her to find out her name) is also expecting.

And that got me thinking, which kid is going to be more messed up from a genetic perspective. Now I don't want to get off on a tangent about environment vs. genes, but not all of this is set in stone but here's what we can probably expect for both kids.

TomKat's Spud:

• short
• megalomania
• pretty
• inability to act
• forced into Hollywood religion du jour (Scientology can't last forever)
• spoiled
• unquenchable rumors of gayness

The Donald & Trophy Wife Number Whatever's Urchin:

• bad hair
• megalomania
• forced to watch re-runs of The Apprentice
• spoiled
• unquenchable rumors of poverty

So, probably not that much difference after all. Good luck kids, even though you've won the genetic lottery in terms of wealth, your parents will probably fuck you up.

I Was Warned

My secretary told me when I turned 40 that everything would go to hell. I expected it to be a downhill journey; I didn't expect it to be driving over a cliff.

I messed my knee up about 6 weeks ago. Moving a refrigerator, heard a pop, immediately couldn't put any weight on it. It got a little better, then about 2 weeks later it popped again while I was just standing in a line.

Anyway, I'm having to baby it. No stairs, no running, no advanced sexual positions (okay, any sexual positions). Seriously, when it's bad, I can barely walk. And I've learned that it'll be really bad after an orthopedic surgeon yanks on it for about 10 minutes, makes it click a lot, and tries to make it twist and turn in ways it probably hasn't done for about 15 years anyway.

The funny thing about all this is that everyone in my family has had major knee surgery. So I have a lot of input from people who I never solicit advice from. I keep asking, "Where did you get your medical degree from? I can't remember." The best thing is that my Dad keeps sending me email with helpful tips like this:

GET A SECOND OPINION!!!!!!! I HAD THREE BEFORE I GOT MY LAST HIP REPLACED. DO YOU HAVE A COMPANY DOCTOR YOU COULD DISCUSS WITH? READ PAGE18 IN SUNDAYS OCT.9 PAGE 18 ,GOOD ARTICLE ON THE KNEE PARADE MAGAZINE. DELAY ANY SURGERY.

Yup, that wily Shift key apparently eludes Pop when he's trying to give me medical advice. Luckily Parade Magazine is also the functional equivalent to the New England Journal of Medicine.

Am I the only one who finds that kind of email hilarious? It's like getting a telegram from the old west. I just wish he would say STOP instead of using a period.

Mr. Kettle, Mr Pot Is On The Phone

In a move that may actually make my head explode, the people from Wonderbra are accusing the folks from Marks & Spencer of being sexist.

Yup, the inventor of the push up bra is hammering another lingerie maker for using photos of semi-naked women in their advertising. When I use a photo of a woman showing her sweet boobs, that's classy. When you do it, it's trashy. Can't you see the difference?

I fail to see what the hubbub is about the Per Una collection. But then I'm not a Brit, so maybe there's something shocking to the continental sensibilities that's lost upon this Yank.

I guess I fail to see how Wonderbra taking the moral high road regarding women in advertising is going to sell more Wonderbra's, but then all I know about women's bras is that I like what's in them.

Quote of the Week

This week, it's another comedian.

"My girlfriend and I are trying to compromise more. She wants A, I want Z, so we've settled on something in the B-C range."

-- Costaki Economopolous on working relationships

Nick Cage Loses It

If you hadn't heard, Nicolas Cage and his second wife just had a baby boy. While that's all fine and dandy, they named the new son....wait for it...make sure you're sitting down....Kal-el.

No, that's not a typo. It's Kal-freaking-el as in the real name of Superman. Yup, while he was still a little boy on Krypton (before it blew up) that was his name. You may remember some of this crap if you saw the very first movie with Christopher Reeve as Superman -- the one with Brando.

I didn't know that old Nickie boy wanted to play Superman in the upcoming remake. The theory is that since he didn't get the part, he named his kid after him. Kind of like how when he didn't get to be Elvis, he married Lisa Marie Presley. And that worked out really well...for about four months anyway.

I hope for young Kal-el Coppola Presley that he really is the Man of Steel. Because I've got a feeling that the many schoolyard beatings to follow are going to let him know just how mortal he really is.

TomKat To Procreate

In one of the more shocking faux news stories out today, Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes are expecting a baby. Can you get impregnated via Scientology?

My favorite headlines so far:

• Show Me The Mummy
• TomKat Expecting TomKitten
• Cruise, Holmes; Pregnant!
• Obviously Gay Man Impregnates Media Distraction

Okay, so I might have made one of those up. One of them must have a movie coming out in about 9 months.

And All's Right In Hockeytown Again

In case you missed it, the National Hockey League was on strike last year. And while I do so love to see millionaires (the players) argue with billionaires (the owners), it's really just the fans who lost out.

The Detroit Red Wings played last night. Finally. Yes, they really do call it Hockeytown. If you're not from the Northeastern part of the US, you probably don't get it. But as the Red Sox are to Boston, so are the Red Wings to Detroit. But then if the other major competition for your undying love were the Lions and the Tigers, you can understand why people get behind the hockey ballers.

Now hockey is definitely the 4th sport in the echelon of professional sports. It might even be behind bowling. And it's not even televised on a legitimate network like ESPN. It's on the Outdoor Life Network. Yes, the same network of Survivor reruns and the Tour de France. What does it say about your sport when that's the best tv contract you can score?

Hockey suffers in that it's not a tv sport. You can't follow the puck or the players as well on tv and you can't grasp any of the strategy with line changes. It is a seriously fast sport that doesn't translate well into remote viewing. The ice is too big and a lot of the best action doesn't necessarily go on around the puck. These guys routinely skate at over 20 miles per hour. When the action gets going, bodies are flying across the ice and guys are sucking wind after each shift.

Fighting in the NHL isn't that big a deal. The fights tend to look worse than they actually are. It's tough to get any leverage to punch when you're slipping around on the ice. But when someone gets their sweater pulled up over their head and gets thumped, the crowd is always into it. It's the only sport where fights are part of the game. Every team has an enforcer. If you cross over the line and take a shot at the superstar, the enforcer comes in, busts somebody and everything quiets down again. Typically the only way you can really get injured is when you're down on the ice. And that's when the refs move in a break it up. Otherwise, they typically let them dance around a bit before they try to break it up. Everyone lets off a little steam, then it's back to the game.

Speaking of back to the game, welcome back, guys.

The HMO Will Probably Not Cover This

A woman from Oregan is suing a doctor. Nothing new there, right? Well she's suing him because he prescribed intercourse (with him of course) for her lower back pain.

Do you think he made her call him Dr. Feelgood? If a doctor says he can cure you by having sex with him, he must really have a magic johnson.

Now I'm neither a doctor nor do I play one on tv, but if you think sex makes your back feel better, it probably does. I thought sex made everything feel better.

I'm guessing this woman doesn't work for NASA. "Hop up on this table and take your clothes off. Now you'll feel some slight pressure and then your back will start to feel much, much, much better. Try to ignore my cries of pleasure and concentrate on your back."

How many "treatments" do you think it took before she realized that her back wasn't getting any better?

Dr. Feelgood got in trouble when he also submitted his 45 minute "treatments" to the state health plan to get them covered by insurance. Ah, greed raising its ugly head again. I think that's really trying to have your cake and eat it too, so to speak.

"Doctor, that doesn't feel like a thermometer......"

Quote of the Week

I think this guy may be my new hero...

"Women always want to know what men are thinking. I'll tell you what we're thinking: "Does that feel good?" and "Are you mad at me?"

-Nick Griffin, stand up comedian

Nick's currently scheduled to be on Dave's big show on October 7th. Don't miss him; he's that good.