Please Release Me

Wife and I were watching tv (instead of sweltering in the 90+ heat of Michigan) last weekend. For some reason we stumbled into a conversation about living wills and life support. I can't remember what started this conversation, but I do recall what finished it.

I smugly proclaimed, "I'd rather be dead than kept alive by some machine and fed out of a bottle."

She unplugged the tv and threw away all my beer.

I'll keep my piehole shut next time.

Take Me Out to the Ballpark

If you're anywhere near Altoona, PA, you definitely owe it to yourself to check this out. The Altoona Curve are hosting Frivolous Lawsuit Night on July 2nd. Usually I only go to the park on Handgun and Hard Liquor Night but this could be fun too.

The Curve got the idea for the promotion after some assbag in LA filed suit after he didn't get a nylon tote bag when the Angels gave them away for a Mother's Day promotion. Maybe he could keep his self respect in that tote bag?

As part of their promotion, the Curve will give away the following:

• a pink tote bag to the men
• lukewarm coffee to the women (so they will not burn themselves)
• kids will be given a beach ball (with a warning not to eat it)
• a grand prize drawing in which one fan will receive a “clue” and their own frivolous lawsuit

I wonder if the Curve serves the curve? Nobody is going to get that reference. But these are the best hot dogs in the world. Hope they also sell Curve Ball Kolsch beer.

Iran So Far Away

There are a lot of new visitors to this blog. People from the Netherlands, Spain, India, Malaysia and Iran. All these new people are here searching for the term boob and instead finding this stupid post. I'll bet they're disappointed. If you're actually having to search for the term "sneaky boob grab," you don't get the concept.

Seriously there's someone in Iran, Chahar Mahall va Bakhtiari who visits this site. Man, that person is going to get stoned (not in the good way but instead with real stones) if the government ever finds out he's wasting valuable international interweb power on this stupidity.

So because of all this international traffic, I thought I should explain the concept of Memorial Day to our visitors from abroad.

Memorial Day is on the last Monday in May and is a federal holiday (not one of those wimpy little state holidays). Thus, everyone gets a three day weekend and is allowed to raise hell on a Sunday night instead of watching the Sopranos. This holiday commemorates U.S. men and women who died in military service for their country. Memorial Day began as an honor to Union soldiers who died during the Civil War (the US's not one we started in another country). Memorial Day was later expanded to include those who died in any war or military action.
Memorial Day also typically signals the beginning of Summer.

In the United States we celebrate Memorial Day by drinking a lot of beer and having furniture and mattress sales.

Enjoy the long weekend kids. Feel free to share your favorite Memorial Day stories.

It's Spreading

If anyone thinks I pick on Ohio for having all the stupid people, lighten up, Francis. Today's story comes to us from South Bend, Indiana. So we could blame either Notre Dame or it could be that Ohio's stupidity is spreading to nearby states.

A woman bought a "flat screen tv" off the street for $300. Too bad when she got it home it turned out to be an oven door.

My favorite quote of the story: The oven door was wrapped in plastic to look like a flat screen, had Wal-Mart store labels, and included a generic remote control.

Now that's some quality technology forgery. The Wal-Mart labels are a nice touch.

But if you can't tell the difference between an oven door and a flat screen tv, don't be in such a rush to join the HDTV generation.

If it seems like a deal too good to be true, it isn't. You can't con an honest person. And don't buy tv's out of a trunk.

And You Thought Your Job Was Crappy

The creeping fascism in this country is absolutely disgusting. Now, our bowels aren't even safe from an unlawful search and seizure.

In Wisconsin, the Supreme Court ruled it was okay for police to use laxatives to get a man to "produce" evidence in a drug case.

When the criminal was being taken down (don't you love cop talk?), he swallowed a baggie of heroin. The police (who obviously know a bit about human anatomy) took the criminal to a hospital and chained him to a bed. This too shall pass, my son. After 6 hours (and probably some crummy hospital cafeteria coffee for the cops), the Man in Blue decided to "assist" the procedure and began to feed the suspect cups of a liquid laxative every 20 to 30 minutes.

Now the suspect had enough sense to swallow the drugs while he was being arrested. He also had enough sense to keep his mouth shut (among other things) after he was taken to the hospital. So why did he agree to drink "Go Lightly" (the name of the laxative and somewhere a marketing genius just got his wings) when the cops offered it? Did they trick him? Sneak it into something else? Threaten to beat him? Force it down his throat? I can't believe he just willingly took it after being chained to a bed. Never trust the good cop either, kids.

Anyway, in ruling against the criminal, the Judge noted three things. First, the search involved "medical professionals." Thank goodness trained medical professionals administered the laxative or things might have gotten messy.

Second, she noted the importance of using the drugs against the defendant outweighed the intrusion. Well, duh. That's why he swallowed them. And I'm not certain where she's headed with this "intrustion" talk. Is she suggesting the cops not wait but go searching. I hope not for the defendant's sake.

Third, she said the situation was "self-created." Because the defendant brought this upon himself so to speak, he had to bear the burden of his decision. Apparently in Wisconsin they define a burden as being chained to a bed and forcefed laxatives so some cops can scoop through your poop for evidence.

Best part of the story? The headline: Court Approves Laxative Searches

So the moral of the story is "Don't hide evidence in your ass." Because they're going to get it one way or the other. Do you think Laxative Search would be a good name for a rock and roll band?

Completely Ripped Off

I completely stole this from Dave. But as I've written about Mr. Richards as well, I figured it fit the theme.

Top Ten Things Overheard During Keith Richards' Hospital Stay

10. "What aren't you currently taking, Mr. Richards?"
9. "Visiting hours are over, you'll have to ask the strippers to leave"
8. "That explains it. His MRI shows three livers."
7. "According to our tests he's been dead for the past 30 years"
6. "First time an organ rejected the body"
5. "His blood type is Jack Daniels."
4. "Haven't seen anything this close to death since Letterman's hairpiece."
3. "You mean he looked like that before the fall?"
2. "I just listed his bedpan on eBay."
1. "We need to find a perfect match for his blood -- somebody call Whitney Houston!"

We'll Always Have Paris

I completely stole this idea from kitkat's writing blog. You had to pick a line and write a 300 word story with some dialogue and a twist. Twisted is easy for me.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Looking at Paris in this light, I was amazed. I had heard such marvelous things from my friends. And while they were right, no one had done it justice. I had heard how amazing Paris was. “You’ve never seen anything like it,” they would gush. “Words can’t describe it. You’ll never believe it. You have to see it for yourself.” I really wasn’t a Paris kind of guy, but I figured I’d go take a look and see what everyone was raving about.

“Paris is for lovers,” I remembered hearing. I held my breath in anticipation. I’d waited so long for this. I thought back on the endless planning, the numerous internet searches, all of my questions.

“Where should I go?” Everyone seemed to have a favorite site or an opinion for enlightenment. What would really make me understand Paris? No one seemed to be able to tell me exactly where to go. “Do some exploring. You’ll find it eventually." Where was that secret spot that would allow me to see Paris in all her glory?

But it was all coming to fruition. I was finally getting to see Paris.

And while the green night-vision video made her look a bit alien, I could finally see why some people loved Paris. Here was a girl who would have sex with anyone. Anyone who was hot. Even her pause to take a cell phone call mid-coitus couldn’t diminish my admiration.

Here was a woman with no appreciable skills, intelligence or otherwise redeeming social value. Yet she was a star. She was famous simply for being famous. She’s a winner in the genetic lottery. "Be born wealthy" really is the best advice you can give your kids. Paris breaks barriers. She shows you don't have to be poor to be white trash.

Tag Tag, Oh Baby

Now I used to be a kid. Really, I was. And Wife often thinks I still am. Usually when asked "How old are you?" after doing something immature, I hold out three fingers and say "This many." I can't help it. It's my inner child that needs a slap not me.

But in Golden, Colorado (home of Coors beer) the games have gotten out of hand. Or too in hand if you ask the police.

Cole Sharpe (age 14) was taken into custody and is being investigated on a possible charge of unlawful sexual contact. His alleged crime? Playing Boob Tag. I'm guessing Boob Tag is played at the Kennedy Compound in a formal league.

Boob Tag, according to young Cole, is "Just like tag except you, like, poke the breast area."

Has anyone really heard of this game? Or is just a sneaky (and clever) way for 14 year old boys to try to get close to the boobies?

It obvious he's just a kid. You never "poke" a boob. Sure admire, obsess over, stroke, nuzzle, pet, kiss, rub, give soft butterfly kisses to, lick, nibble, suck gently.....okay, I've got to stop this line of inquiry or this post will never get finished. But no poking, that's the point.

Now in Cole's defense, he's 14. He's thinking about boobs and the tagging thereof constantly. He admits that he was playing Boob Tag, but not with the accuser. So apparently in Golden, Colorado there are some girls who'll allow you to play Boob Tag without complaining to the cops. Unless it's a totally gay thing.

More of the shoddy reporting we've come to expect from the mainstream media. The real questions we need answers to go unasked.

How many people were playing Boob Tag?
How many boys versus girls?
How long have you been playing Boob Tag?
How do you decide who gets to be it (after President Clinton of course)
How do you win at Boob Tag? (I think everyone is a winner, but that's just me)
Who invented Boob Tag? (Russ Meyer is my guess)
Has anyone told you not to poke?
What is the possible criminal penalty for unlawful Boob Tag playing?
How old is the alleged victim?
Did she act like she wanted to play Boob Tag? You know that's where the criminal defense lawyer is going to go?
Has the victim played Boob Tag in the past?

Now I've never heard of Boob Tag before this, but I do happen to know that Fox is developing a game show around the concept. Some possible show slogans include:

Boob Tag - Get in the Game
Boob Tag Fever - Catch It
Boob Tag - Grab the game with both hands
Boob Tag - Exploiting Women With Their Consent
Boob Tag - Best Game on Ice
Boob Tag - These Guys Are Very Very Good
Boob Tag - No Poking
Boob Tag - We Try Harder
Boob Tag - Just Do It
Boob Tag - Can You Grope Me Now?
Boob Tag - We've Got Milk
Boob Tag - Greatest Show on Earth
Boob Tag - Priceless
Boob Tag - We'll Leave the Bra on For You

Okay, I'll knock it off. But feel free to submit your own slogans or personal Boob Tag experiences. Seriously, is this game for real?

Mother Plunker

The Giants are playing a series in Houston right now. And Houston was getting killed in the first game. Down 6-0 and it's only the 4th inning.

So Russ Springer (the pitcher) starts throwing at Barry Bonds. First he threw behind him. Then he came inside 3 times and missed him every time. Then Springer hit him on the hands while Barry was holding the bat. This actually counts as a strike and should probably be the strategy everyone uses to pitch to Barry.

In case you hadn't heard, Barry is one homerun away from tying Babe Ruth with 714 home runs. I could understand if you were unaware of this fact as ESPN only breaks into coverage every time he is up at bat, shows every at bat during every SportsCenter and talks about it endlessly. So no pitcher wants to be the guy shown on every highlight film until the end of time giving up the gopher ball to Bobblehead Barry which ties the Babe.

Finally, Springer hits him. And 35,000 fans stand up and cheer. A standing O for hitting a batter. Then Springer got ejected from the game. And the crowd continued to cheer for him.

I have never seen a more hated man than Barry Bonds.

Ghost Writer

In case you hadn't heard, there is some kind of movie coming out in which Tom Hanks plays Leonardo Da Vinci. I'm pretty certain that's what it is. I haven't heard too much about it though. Something about a book and the Venus de Milo. I'm a little hazy on the facts.

Anyway, some albinos are going to protest the film. Umm, hello, fiction.

Man, those albinos really need to lighten up. Doesn't some dumb film pale in comparison to the problems we have in this world? Sure it's not fair, but no one is lily-white in this world. Give it a rest, Casper. Milk before meat.

Okay, I'll knock it off.

I'm feeling anemic anyway and it's time to feed my Frankenstein.

Just Another Music Monday.

I can't remember who did this first or I'd attribute it. Since I can't, I'm stealing leveraging it for myself. I only listen to my iPod in the car and am freed of the shackles of commercial radio.

Here is a random sampling of the content on my personal, magic music box. Truly a life changing technology. One caveat, no podcasts, no comedy, no Xmas music. Yes, I have all of those on the Pod because I like to annoy my friends with mixes periodically. Think of this as a lame dj "Drop the Needle" experiment. Except here we're "Hitting the Shuffle." Okay, enough of a set up. Let's get to it.

#1) Celebration by Kool & the Gang from The Very Best of Kool and the Gang

An exceedingly silly song that never fails to lift my spirits. Also the worst covered song ever by many wedding bands. This also makes me happy. How can I revel in such crap? It's a gift. I also laugh hysterically at Abba.

#2) The Living Daylights by a-Ha from The Best of James Bond

Ugh. I remember buying this album just so I could get the bass guitar riff from the beginning of all the movies. There are actually a few good songs on this album. This isn't one of them. And if you don't remember, a-Ha is more well known for Take On Me with their swell little comic book video. This is ancient history of the video era and movie theatres would actually show that vid as a preview. Yes, Papaw, people actually wanted to watch videos on MTV and not reality series.

#3) When Rita Leaves by Delbert McClinton from Nothing Personal

Delbert rocks. Sometimes he's a little too country for me and this one is a little slow for my tastes. But when he's doing blues, it's awesome. This is about a woman leaving, taking his car, leaving a note in lipstick on a broken bathroom mirror. Just for spite, she leaves the dress he liked her in the most in the closet. Ow. If you've ever been dumped by a girl, you can relate. This song grew on me and now is one of my favorites of Delbert's work.

#4) The Blues Don't Bother Me by Matt "Guitar" Murphy from Blues Brothers 2000

A much better soundtrack than a movie. I had the luck to see Matt in a small club when I was in college. Matt is the lead guitar and has about 5 albums out. They all rock. Matt's supposed to be married to Aretha in the car dealership in the movie. If they really had kids, they'd have a lot of musical talent. If your nickname is guitar, you know he can play.

#5) Change It by Stevie Ray Vaughan from Greatest Hits

If you don't own this album, there's something wrong with you. With all the biopics about dead musicians being made, I can't believe they haven't done SRV yet. He goes clean and sober, then dies in a plane crash. Karma, like gravity, is a harsh mistress. SRV coming up right after Matt made this a guitar god lucky draw. If Clapton comes up next, the universe is getting it right.

#6) Everybody's Talking by Jimmy Buffett from Live in Las Vegas

No Clapton. This was a gift to the wife as we had gone to Vegas for Jimmy's show the year before. And while Jimmy's concerts are always a huge party, they ought to be outdoors. Nonetheless, the mix of a Japanese tour, Parrotheads and the Vibe Awards made for an eclectic mix of weekenders. I think the Japanese didn't think it at all odd that Americans seemed to dress either in suede suits or coconut bras. And those were the men. I'll confess to buying anything Jimmy puts out.

#7) Half Past the Blues by Michelle "Evil Gal" Willson from Tryin' to Make a Little Love

First, she can wail. Second, her nickname is Evil Gal. Third, I've seen her live twice and both times were free. Mostly blues but with some jazz and rock thrown in. I think she's from Boston because she used to be on Rounder Records. She can really wail. She has a 40's sassy, lounge singer feel but with amazing pipes. She has started to go by simply Michelle Willson and the Evil Gal Orchestra. Still a great name.

#8) Seven Angels by Bruce Springsteen from Tracks, Disc 4

I remember buying this entire set just so I could get Pink Cadillac. Again in the pre-historic era before iTunes and mp3 files. I like his faster stuff a lot more than his slower stuff. I maintain that if you listen to The River while driving across Nebraska in the winter, you'll kill yourself before you hit another state line.

#9) Wasted Time by The Eagles from Hotel California

An album probably everyone owns. Now that you own in CD, you won't scratch it up. But you no longer have the album cover to sort your pot on. I also proposed Wasted Time for our high school graduation theme. For some reason the administration and I did not see eye to eye on this great theme.

#10) Steamy Windows by Shemekia Copeland from Wicked

I had the luck to see Shemekia open for Susan Tedeschi at a small, outdoor amphitheater. I now own all her stuff. A big voice doing rocking blues. Her Dad is Johnny Copeland who played with Robert Cray and Albert King on one of the best blues guitar albums ever, Showdown.

More than ya'll ever wanted to know about my eclectic musical tastes.

Sign o' the Times

I've written before about Barry Bonds. But I just can't seem to whip up the bile and hatred for Barry that I can for TO. I'm not sure why. Maybe because Barry has always been an asshole and doesn't just behave himself the first year he signs a new contract.

I love the fans who whip up creative signs to torment Barry. Assuming he can read.

Barry got to play in Philadelphia last week. Yes, the city of Brotherly Love. The city that booed Santa Claus at an Eagles game.

And the fans, they had some great ones:

• Barry, move your head. We can't see.
• Seeing Barry hit 715: Worthless.
• Ruth did it on hotdogs and beer. Aaron did it with class. How did YOU do it, Barry?
• Just Retire
• Barry Cheated
• Balco Barry
• For Sale: Life-sized Bobblehead. See Leftfield.

People are also dressing up as juice boxes with a number 25 (Barry's playing number) and marked 100% roids.

I'd also like to have seen the skinny guy in a t-shirt reading Barry with Pirates and the guy in the sumo wrestler costume that read Barry with San Fran.

And yes, I stole all these from Tom Verducci of SI. I'll bet he's got even better ones that he's not allowed to discuss in print.

At least this is one way to get fans involved in the game.

Riddle Me This

Because I've been thinking 'bout bidness so much lately, I've got some interview tips for you. Many, many tips. And the Blues is my bidness and bidness is good.

The best interviews are only about 50% likely to get a qualified candidate hired. And the worst interviews are about 35% accurate. So employers attach a huge amount of weight to what is essentially a flawed process.

Now having been both an interviewer and an interviewee (otherwise known as supplicant not applicant), we all know this is just a little dance. We're just trying to figure out if the two of us can show up for work sober every day and try not to kill each other because of our annoying little habits. Oh, and determine if the other one is a pathological liar.

So I've been asked all of these questions and probably asked them all as well. But here's the answers I'd really like to get someday.

1. What's your biggest weakness?

Punctuality. Somedays I dream I wake up and take a shower and get dressed and go to work. Then the snooze alarm goes off.

2. Where do you see yourself in 5 years?

With any luck laid up at home with a lucrative worker's compensation claim. But I'd settle for a spurious sexual harassment suit.

3. What's your greatest strength?

Kissing ass. I'm prepared to answer every question with either "Great idea, Boss" or "And you're a damn handsome man, Sir."

4. What would you bring to our company?

A history of emotional baggage that will make approaching me every morning a gamble. And pinkeye and my imaginary friend Maynard.

5. What do you like least about your current job?

People who ask a lot of questions.

6. What is your biggest accomplishment?

Barely masking my contempt for the empty headed fucks who walk around here in a suit and tie and act like they work all day when all they do is sit in meetings and go harrumph.

7. What was your worst mistake?

Not having the hole dug before I headed out into the desert. And forgetting to put the new cover sheet on my TPS reports.

8. What are you looking for in an employer?

A steady check, a supervisor who doesn't check up on me and an easily duped expense reporting program.

9. Are you a leader?

I micromanage everyone with the iron fist of a petty tyrant. I make Castro look like the PTA President. I encourage everyone to complete the work I'm not doing. I also take all the credit for anything good that happens and blame the idiots you saddled me with if there is the slightest whiff of controversy.

10. Do you work well with a team?

As long as I can be in charge. Otherwise I'll backstab, question authority and count on the team to pick up my slack.

Not What They Meant by The Grass Roots

As any faithful reader of this lil blog o' nonsense knows (and the four of you know who you are), I love the stories about crazy people from Ohio. There's just something about the crazy there that goes to 11. We don't have crazy like that in Michigan. But they've got it to spare in Ohio.

In Vermilion, Ohio (45 minutes West of Cleveland on Lake Erie) a man was arrested for driving his lawnmower while intoxicated. I'll type that again just to make sure you got it. He was drunk driving. His lawnmower.

Dondi Bowles (age 50) was arrested for driving his lawnmower on a sidewalk about a mile from his house. Bowles' blood alcohol level was 0.144 , well over 0.08 limit in Ohio. This was Mr. Bowles third DUI arrest in the last six months.

Dondi? Wasn't that the orphan kid from that crappy cartoon? Anyone going by the name of Dondi is just asking for trouble.

I know exactly how this went down. Dondi started drinking on Friday night, ran out of sweet booze, needed a beer run and couldn't drive because he's lost his license. He thinks, "Hmmmm, I can't drive, but I can still mow." So he hopped on the old Toro riding lawn job and headed to the 7-11 for another 12 pack of Miller High Life. Then the man had to pull him over on the sidewalk.

As usual it's the sloppy reporting we've come to expect from the mainstream media. I want to know the answers to the tough questions.

What was the probably cause for pulling him over? You can't just pull over god-fearing Americans who are mowing peacefully a few miles from their house for no reason.

Was he weaving? Or was he still mowing in straight lines. We may have an unlawful stop here.

Did he have ID and registration? I don't think most Ohio mowers come with registration so he may have a good loophole argument here.

How many miles will a lawn mower go? I think I remember a movie with Richard Farnsworth where he was driving his lawnmower to visit his brother. How do the cops know he's not just visiting his brother?

The best part of this story: they had to tow the lawn mower.

I Hear An Echo

Hard rocker, Keith Richards required brain surgery to remove a blood clot that received after falling out of a palm tree while vacationing in Fiji.

This surgery typically involves a doctor drilling a hole into the skull to remove the blood clot. Giving his prediliction for self-medication, I'm guessing Keith needed that surgery like he needed a hole in the head. Wait a minute, I've confused myself now.

Keith was up and talking after surgery and reportedly back to his old incoherent self. Keith was so confused immediately after the operation that he could only stumble through the lyrics to Little TA. So it was just like being at a live show.

How will anyone be able to tell if the surgery is a success? Richard is reportedly making a speedy recovery. Or perhaps a recovery with speed.

When Richards was more lucid, no one was able to tell. His publicist did issue the following statement:

Mr. Richards will not fade away. He is happy but has mixed emotions about his emotional rescue. There is no truth to the rumor that this is Mr. Richards' 19th nervous breakdown. With the help of some honky tonk women, he'll spend the night together with them and soon be dining at Ruby Tuesday's where he can always get what he wants. His critics may condemn his art as being only rock and roll, but he likes it. Wild horses couldn't keep him away from the Stones' next tour date even if Keith has to sneak in undercover of the night.

Richards is expected to be back up and around mumbling incoherently, engaging in bizarre acts of behavior and looking incredibly craggy in a few weeks.

Look how cool cigarettes make you look, kids.

The Rules of Work

1. Never give me work in the morning. Always wait until 4:00 and then bring it to me. The challenge of a deadline is refreshing.

2. If it's really a rush job, run in and interrupt me every 10 minutes to inquire how it's going. Even better, hover behind me, and advise me at every keystroke.

3. Always leave without telling anyone where you're going. It gives me a chance to be creative when someone asks where you are.

4. If my arms are full of papers, boxes, books, or supplies, don't open the door for me. I need to learn how to function as a paraplegic and opening doors with no arms is good training in case I should ever be injured and lose all use of my limbs.

5. If you give me more than one job to do, don't tell me which is priority. I am psychic.

6. Do your best to keep me late. I adore this office and really have nowhere to go or anything to do. I have no life beyond work.

7. If a job I do pleases you, keep it a secret. If that gets out, it could mean a promotion.

8. If you don't like my work, tell everyone. I like my name to be popular in conversations. I was born to be whipped.

9. If you have special instructions for a job, don't write them down. In fact, save them until the job is almost done. No use confusing me with useful information.

10. Never introduce me to the people you're with. I have no right to know anything. In the corporate food chain, I am plankton. When you refer to them later, my shrewd deductions will identify them.

11. Be nice to me only when the job I'm doing for you could really change your life and send you straight to manager's hell.

12. Tell me all your little problems. No one else has any and it's nice to know someone is less fortunate. I especially like the story about having to pay so many taxes on the bonus check you received for being such a good manager.

13. Wait until my yearly review and THEN tell me what my goals SHOULD have been. Give me a mediocre performance rating with a cost of living increase. I'm not here for the money anyway.

I may have missed a few other rules in that list. Feel free to submit your own.

It's a Sure Thing

Fast Company did a great article on the Five Most Common Lies in Business.

Briefly they are:

• People are our most important asset.
• This was a rational decision.
• We judge people by their performance.
• This is business, it isn't personal.
• The customer comes first.

I've actually had a VP use that first one in a speech. But it was a joke from Scott Adams. Actually people are our 8th most important asset. Right behind carbon paper.

What got me started thinking about the insanities of wage earning in the corporate world was a buddy of mine who reminded me of something I did a long time ago.

Because we're getting a new boss, we have to prepare something called a People Awareness Template. You have to fill out a form about yourself telling some weasel what you do. There's no way a boss would actually walk around and talk to people several levels below them. And they request pictures for the form. You can't tell the players without a program, I guess. And it's not like we're providing glossy 8 by 10 glamour shots here. It's just some little square in a box in the top right corner of the form. Like a passport photo.

Yes, it's demeaning. Yes, it's dehumanizing. Yes, it's disrespectful. And I wasn't going to take it anymore.

Several years ago I got this type of request for a new boss several levels above me, I filled out the form with my current role (several jobs ago in the same organization) and attached a picture of John Cusack.

No one ever said a word.

I'm guessing no one even looked at it because I'm such a lowly drone. But I secretly hope there's an executive somewhere who thinks that guy from The Sure Thing works for him.

Who am I kidding? None of our executives is cool enough to have seen that movie.

Rocking in Fiji

While vacationing in Fiji, Keith Richards fell out of a tree and suffered a mild concussion. Some reports are indicating that he actually fell from a palm tree then was on a jet ski and had another accident before someone finally realized they need to take him to a hospital for observation.

I can understand that, because if Keith had a concussion, you probably wouldn't be able to tell he's acting any differently. Unfocused eyes, check. Random words and phrases, check. Appears tired and groggy, check. I mean, that's Keith, not a head trauma victim. They're going to need the guy from House to diagnose this illness. That doc is Hugh Laurie by the way and he was much funnier in Blackadder, but I digress.

Doctors in Fiji did say that Keith's head was flattened, flattened, shadoobie, shadoobie. I can't believe I can't come up with more Stones lyrics for this. Maybe he'll need an Angie-oplasty. Wow, that's smelly. At least he didn't try jumping, Jack Flash, from that tree. That's got to be some of my lamest work with rock lyrics ever. My genius obviously just runs to bad 80's bands.

I always thought a Rolling Stone gathered no moss. Although now I can use if a Rolling Stone falls in the forest and no one hears, does it make any noise?

Doctors did say as soon as Richards looked terrible, they released him from the hospital.

Snubberiffic

I see I have been snubbed again. Yup, I'm not on People magazine's Sexiest People list for 2006.

What a crock! It's all politics. I'm just as vain, shallow yet fabulous as any of those people. But just because I'm not adopting Namibian babies, jumping up and down on couches, conveniently having my baby in advance of my movie launch or showing my perfect ass and lack of talent in a bikini, I'm not on the list.

If I get screwed out of the Nobel Peace Prize again this year, I'm gonna shoot someone.

Sonsabitches.