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.

French Budget Surrenders

I absolutely love this one. "Mom, I'll take the garbage out as soon as I'm done cutting social services!"

The government of France is setting up a new internet game called Cyberbudget that will allow players to manage money just like a budget minister. It's designed to teach players how hard it is to lower taxes and reduce deficits. I'm also guessing it's designed to decrease the criticism of French budget ministers as well.

This is perfect for a multiple choice joke:

a) If playing the game from Germany, you will be able to force the French budget to surrender.
b) No extra credit for youth rioting.
c) Does Bush read French?
d) Are you allowed to carjack Renaults?
e) When do we get to play the French Foreign Policy game "Mid-East Instability Through Nuclear Technology Sales?"

I gotta start learning French. I don't know anything other than Oui, Pierre (the dehydrated Frenchman) and a Maurice Chevalier-like "Honh, honh, honh."

Call Me, Call Me, Any, Anytime

There's a new phone that Motorola has patented which all the swinging chicks will have to have.
They're calling it a "therapeutic vibrating phone."

I'm calling it something that will require a repeating speed dial function and is sure to put you over your minutes.

Never underestimate the power of "therapy" to sell products and services. Glad to know we've cured cancer, pulled the troops out of Iraq and solved world hunger so we can work on the things that really matter--vibrating phones. Bless you Motorola.

Carl & Me

A lot of people don't know much about me. That's because I'm pretty shy, quiet and am a real shrinking violet.

But my friend Carl knows me pretty well. We like to talk about our feelings, government policy, our dreams, pending Senate regulatory committee activity and our aspirations. Plus, he's really hot. That's him right over there.

Here's the last email he sent me:

Thank you for contacting me about video game regulations. I am glad you shared your concerns with me.

Following the Columbine High School shooting in 1999, attention was drawn to the increasing amount of violence to which youth are exposed. As a result, President Clinton ordered a Federal Trade Commission (FTC) study of the rating and labeling systems, as well as the marketing practices, of the video game, recording, and motion picture industries. This study found that while efforts were being made to label products containing indecent material, these products were still being marketed to minors. The FTC survey also found that in many cases retailers were not refusing to sell such products to children under 17. A follow-up FTC report, conducted at the request of Congress in 2001, found that the video game and motion picture industries had scaled back their targeting of minors in ads.

Current video game ratings systems are managed by private companies. In 1994, the Entertainment Software Rating Board developed a system that divides games into five age-based categories. Under this system, video game retailers who restrict sales to minors do so on a voluntary basis. It is ultimately up to parents to monitor what their children are buying.

As you may know, Senator Hilary Clinton introduced the Family Entertainment Protection Act (FEPA, S.2126) on December 16, 2005. FEPA would criminalize the sale or rental of video games with ratings of Mature or Adults Only to people under the age of 17. In addition, FEPA would require the FTC to perform an annual review of the ratings system. This bill has been referred to the Senate Committee on Commerce, Science and Transportation where it awaits further consideration. Thank you again for writing. Should this issue come before the full Senate, I will be sure to keep your views in mind.

Sincerely,

Hot Carl Levin
Keep on rocking!

Okay, I may have added that last part.

But you can totally tell we're really close friends. Maybe he can come over to my house some time and we could play Grand Theft Auto or Madden football together.

TomKat Delivers Lil' Kitten

In case you missed it, Tom & Katie pulled the ultimate PR coup. They delivered their litter before Brangelina and the premiere of Mission Impossible 3. Still think this wasn't planned?

They've named the anklebiter Suri. While it's being widely reported in the media that Suri means either Princess (in Hebrew) or red rose (in Persian), they're all getting it wrong.

Suri means "crazy" in Wookie.

If karma is the harsh mistress I expect her to be, Katie will be up and around and silently suffering from postpartum depression in no time.

For Suri's sake, let's hope her parents' height and talent are recessive genes. Ah, they'll be separated before Suri is potty trained anyway. With any luck, that'll minimize the damage they can do to her. Pray for boarding school, Suri.

I Get Paid to Talk

I've had corporate shilling on my mind quite a bit lately. Probably because I just saw Thank You For Smoking. (The book is Christopher Buckley's best). And it's what I do for my appointed wage-earning toil.

There's a great scene in TYFS where the character Nick Naylor is talking to his son's class about what he does for a living. A little girl pipes up with, "My Mommy said cigarettes are bad for you."

He responds with, "Is your Mommy a doctor?"

"No."

"Is she a scientist?"

"No."

"She doesn't sound like a very credible expert then, does she?"

I almost wet my pants. It was great to see Nick use rhetoric and logic to manipulate people.

As an admirer and mangler of the English language, I've been paying particular attention lately to corpspeak and Engfish and ways we inveigle, miscontrue and obfuscate. I particularly enjoy when we change words to make them into advertising lingo. Crap like incredelicious, crunchtastic or chickenriffic. It sure seems to happen most often for food product introductions rather than other items or goods.

Now I don't usually watch commercials thanks to the life altering technology that is TIVO. So when I heard a Kraft commercial this morning using EMF's Unbelievable, I completely vapor locked. It's for Kraft Crumbles and uses the line "It's crumb-believable." Ow, is that smelly.

I wonder if Kraft knows that EMF stands for Epsom Mad Funkers?

At least they found a use for all those cheese bits that wobble out of the machines and fall on the floor.

Feel free to submit your most hated (or loved) made up advertising language words.

Oh The Humanity

The West Michigan Whitecaps had a swell promotion Saturday at the old ballpark. They used a helicopter to drop $1000 in cash for kids between the age of 5 and 12.

Except a couple of 7 year olds got trampled and had to go to the hospital. Never come between a 12 year old and his cash. Don't worry, both kids were okay with only minor injuries.

My favorite part of this story, however, is the fine sympathetic response of the team. I mean just because it was their event at their park, you don't really think they're going to take any responsibility do you?

Instead they went with this: "It's for fun and games," spokeswoman Katie Kroft said. "This is why we have everybody sign a waiver."

Oh, they've got a waiver. Well then it's okay that you got a couple of little kids trampled. I'm sure that waiver will keep you from getting sued by some ambulance chaser. Thank goodness there weren't any Easter Eggs in the outfield.

For some reason, the ballpark incident made me think of Les Nessman describing the action as turkeys plummet to the ground for WKRP's Thanksgiving Day promotion. I hope ya'll are old enough to get that reference because it made for truly hilarious tv.

Happy Pagan Chicken Embryo Day

I'm outta here tomorrow thanks to the benevolent taskmasters at my appointed toil. Yes, we actually get Friday off.

We are given respite to enjoy the rebirth of nature in the Great Grey North. That means the huge piles of snow in the corners of all the parking lots are finally melting.

Just a bit of advice.

If you're going to hide eggs, make sure you count how many you hid. Otherwise, you'll have another hunt in a few months. But this one you'll do mostly with your nose.

Now where did all those Peeps go?

Ending Women's Suffrage

Some wise guys went to the Padua Academy with a video camera and a bold idea.

They wanted to see if the female students would sign a petition to end women's suffrage. Unfortunately, suffrage is the right to vote. Yes, they were asking young girls to sign a petition to keep themselves from voting.

And it's all online.

Padua describes itself on its site as "where girls with dreams become women of vision." I'm betting there are some Delaware parents who fork over $7,200 a year for their precious Catholic daughters to get a decent education who are asking some very difficult questions for the Poli Sci instructor right now.

I'm not sure what is most disturbing:

• Young girls will sign anything if you have a video camera (though this does explain the phenomenon of Girls Gone Wild)
• Peer pressure is hell
• Catholic schools aren't teaching real science much less political science
• The interweb greatly enhances your ability to look like a dummy (this blog included as exhibit A)
• At least this is better than dropping out

Do you think this is funny? Scary? Disturbing? Indicative of the decline of Western civilization?

That being said, it's not too early to apply. I do, however, feel a lot better about my neice who went to private school and is now studying to be a massage therapist. Yeah, she's going to need trigonometry in her daily life.

Curse You, Ben & Jerry

It's officially over for a lot of people. Ben and Jerry are releasing a new flavor of ice cream.

Black and Tan

I wish I were making it up, but it's true. Beer flavored ice cream.

I think I'm going to need to buy a bigger belt. Better yet, just completely give in and switch to sweat pants.

Can wine flavored cream be far behind?

Here are some other ideas for flavors to let us combine some of our favorite vices:

• Bacon Bomb
• Merlot Moo
• Screwdriver Swirl (powered by Absolut)
• Gin & Cream
• Drunky Monkey (Banana Rum flavored, of course)
• Coors Cream
• Zinfandel Zoom
• Budweiser Brickle
• Rooty Tooty Reisling
• Super Margarita Man
• Mary's Bloody Bomb Pop
• Pina Colada Pop
• Rum & Cokesicle
• Lick-a-Labatt's
• Melting Molson Moments

Feel free to submit your own great flavors, kids!

The Taxman Cometh

Wife and I sat down this weekend and plowed through the wonderful, fabulous process of reminding ourselves how much we love being an American. That's right, we did our taxes on the old 'puter and ciphered out how much we owed the guv'ment for our cover charge to be patriotic citizens. I had purposely put it off because I had a feeling that we'd owe this year. Boy was I right.

We got killed this year. We owe literally thousands of dollars to the Feds. I can honestly say that I did not use that much national defense last year.

Now I do not consider myself a wealthy man (other than in my life choices of course), but I'm not starving on the streets. I can afford my mortgage and have enough money left over for the odd electronic trinket when I feel the compulsive need to go to Best Buy.

I'm reminded of a line from Friends. When Rachel gets her first paycheck she asks, "Who is this guy FICA and why is he taking all my money?"

That being said, I got a couple of hundred bucks from the State. How that is possible is beyond me. So apparently, I'm using a lot of Federal Services but not so much from Michigan. It makes no sense.

I do think I'm going to take my state loot and go to the indian reservation and parlay it into nothing. Or buy Lotto tickets. Both smart strategic investments.

Did everybody get killed this year or was it just my lucky turn?

Bodice Rippers

There's an article online called Erotica Finds Home in Mainstream Publishing which I just don't get. Go ahead and plow through it. If you can't possibly pry yourself away from here (and I can certainly understand how that could happen), let me sum up for you, because there is no time to explain, Inigo Montoya.

• A woman started writing erotica (not porn) for other women.
• The protagonista in these erotic stories is a woman.
• They sold these books over the interweb.
• Old, boring, publishers like Avon and Halequin are now horning in on the action.

The writer seems surprised to find out that sex sells. Even on the internet. Yeah, no one saw that coming despite the fact that every technology enhancement in the past 100 years has been co-opted by porn. Printing = dirty books/magazines. Video tape players = dirty movies. HDTV = High Def Porn.

What I took away from that story is that the names of the characters in these books are complete bullshit. The names used in the four stories discussed are: Karessa, Vienna and Trista. Is it a rule that the names in these books always have to end in a vowel? I know no one by these names. Of course I don't know an Iman, Tyra or Madonna either.

Is it still incomprehensible to the average person that women could enjoy something erotic too? Have the Chippendale's been forgotten that easily. Men in strip clubs look at women like a lion looks at a gazelle. Women look at male dancers like a pack of wolves look at a wounded deer.

Or is it a big deal because it's a woman doing it? I thought we were past all that. I know Katie is going to host the CBS Evening News. Who cares? Has anyone noticed how well the Today Show alum do when they leave: Bryant Gumble, Jane Pauley, Deborah Norville? These aren't exactly wildly successful career arcs post the morning gig.

Isn't the whole deal that when we quit pointing out that it's being done by someone new and different, we're through the issue? It's like when we quit identifying Donovan McNabb as a black quarterback and he's just a quaterback. Katie isn't going to be a female anchor, she's just an anchor.

My department is 85% women. So I can tell you it's no big thing when a woman gets to be in charge around here.

Luckily I will always be Chief Vermin Officer Waste Disposal Pledge at my house. That means I get to kill bugs and take out the garbage. It's a lifetime appointment too so I can pretty much coast.

Baseball Has Been Barry Barry Good To Me

I'll confess to not watching much of the basketball festivities last night. First, the game stunk as UCLA (that's pronounced yew kleh) never seemed to have their act in gear. Second, it was more fun to watch the fans in San Diego torment Barry Bonds.

People had some great signs:

• Bonds First in Hall of Shame
• Barr-Roids
• Huge Head, Tiny Bat, Tiny Balls
• *

I wish I'd have been the guy who just put an asterisk on a sign. Man, that's genius.

Someone even threw a syringe onto the field. I couldn't see a needle, but you could clearly see the plastic injector thingee. And when Bonds picked it up off the field of play, it was awesome.

And that's just San Diego. Can you imagine what's going to happen in Chicago, New York or Philadelphia? In Philly, they booed Santa Claus at an Eagles game. This looks to be a very long year for Mr. Bonds and the rest of the team.

I still want to market a shirt that says Will Rogers Never Met Barry Bonds.

Play ball, Barry.

Oh, and I forgot. Barry's tv show is on tonight. On the duece, it's Barry on Barry. Because he won't talk to the media, he's going to do his own reality tv show. That makes sense. Use the media so you don't have to talk to the media.

Now in a professional sense, I've got to admire his blatant hijacking of the media process. The professional media keeps asking him the wrong questions (ie. about his cheating, his steroids, his being an asshole) so he'll do it himself.

I have it on good authority that he cries during the first episode. I can't wait to see the kinder, gentler Barry Bonds. Who sits in his recliner in the clubhouse and watches his big screen tv and makes sure his people keep the rest of the Giants away from him.

And if you feel too sorry for Barry, his theatrics and his ability to whip up some tears on cue. Just remember that when he feels bad, he can go home and rest his ginormous steroid-swollen head on a big pile of money.

Hey did you hear they were going to Barry Bonds Bobblehead night? They wouldn't bobble because the head was too big.

Put Me In Coach, I'm Ready to Play

So it begins....

If you've forgotten, we begin the national pastime today. Yes, the sport that claims to be America's Game is upon us once again. No, I'm not talking about football dammit.

Today (okay last night) is Opening Day. That's right d-a-y. It's supposed to be played during the day. No one ever heard of Opening Night despite what the White Sox and Indians were doing last night on ESPN2. That's right, it was on the duece. That means it definitely doesn't count. And the rain delay, God pissing on Comiskey Park.

Opening Day is for optimists. Everyone thinks they still have a chance. Wait till next year is now. No one has had their hopes and dreams for a post season crushed yet. Even the Detroit Tigers who have had a losing record for the last 12 years. That's right, twelve years. Ever since Illich bought this team, they stunk.

And even though the Tigers open play on the road (and it's a good thing because it's sleeting here right now) with the lowly Royals, they've not been mathmatically eliminated from playoff contention. That'll come in May.

Opening Day in Detroit is an unofficial holiday. Everyone skips work and goes to the game. Where they typically freeze as it's early April. If you're lucky, it'll make 50. That's without the wind. If you do have to work, invariably someone will figure out how to get a tv feed so you can watch while pretending to work.

If it's wrong to hope for an earthquake that destroys both the Chicago White Sox and the Indians, I don't want to be right. That'll just leave Minnesota to worry about and that's plenty for the Tabbies.

It's the smell of ballpark hot dogs mingling with cut grass and stale beer. The sound of the umps and the vendors. Emerging from the concourse into the field proper and being dazzled by the grass, the white of the bags and foul lines stretching into infinity. It's the crack of the bat, the pop of the glove, the bang bang of a throw to first and the runner hitting the base while everyone holds their breath for the ump's signal. Crappy organ music during the 7th inning stretch. Little kids with mitts learning how to score a game on the program insert. Double headers. Fireworks after homers. Walking on peanut shells. Talking with strangers just because they're seated next to you. The thrill of having the bases loaded. Using body English to try to keep a ball fair.

Play ball.

Still Friends?

We've run the gamut of Spring Break mayhem here all week: drinking, wet t-shirt contests, kidnapping, stupidity. But all good things must come to an end. You have to say goodbye to that stranger you macked with when you were wasted and the bar closed and kicked you out.

And it's over for Matt LeBlanc and his wife of three years Melissa LeBlanc nee McKnight. Wow, three years. That's even longer than Joey is going to be on the air.

Why are they getting divorced? No reasons are given in the flacktivity propogated by their respective spokespersons, but I've got a few ideas:

• She's seen his show (with a tip of the cap to my wife who came up with that one on the spot last night while watching the news)
• Endlessly suggesting threesomes with Matthew Perry
• That cute "How You Doon?" line not quite so cute every morning for three straight years
• Constant insistance that orangutangs could play baseball
• When depressed whines that he should have stuck to fighting crime with "The Angels"
• Whenever he misplaces keys, insists they are Lost.....In Space
• Random musings about the undiscovered genius of Married With Children's lesser known characters
• Yelled out "Rachel" while making love
• Dressing up in her clothes "for research"
• Always wants to drive because "he's a pilot"

Okay, two Lost in Space jokes is piling on. I'm sorry. No word on whether this split counts as being on a break.

And if you've had the misfortune to see all of those Matt LeBlanc projects, you need help, my friend.

Ransom of Red Chief

I wrote earlier about how you need to be careful on Spring Break so you don't get kidnapped. They even have road signs to warn you. Apparently, they need some of those signs in Gallatin, Tennessee.

William Ellis (who has an Uncle who uses the name "Fly" and while that's just asking for trouble how cool would it be to have an Uncle Fly?), was kidnapped after armed gunmen broke into his house. Initial ransom demands were $20,000 for William's release.

During 24 hours of negotiations, the ransom demand kept get lowered. "As time passed, it was turning into a frustrated situation and they just beat on me a little bit more, and it got to a point where they was tired of wasting time," Ellis said.

I can only imagine how those phone calls must have gone. "Oh, twenty. Man, that's going to be tough because I don't get paid until next Friday. You keep him for a while more and I'll make a few calls and see what I can do."

"Hey, you're calling again? I thought I was supposed to be calling you. Oh, that's right. I don't have your number. I made some calls but nothing is really happening because a lot of people aren't around at this time of night but I've got a really good NCAA bracket and I'm optimistic. Give me a few hours and I'll call you back. Oh, yeah, that's right. Okay, I'll hear from you then."

"Hey, this isn't happening. I can't find a guy who owes me money. So...um..I guess he's yours. Good luck."

Finally the kidnappers talked to Ellis' sister. She must have the gift of gab because the kidnappers released Ellis after that.

The kidnappers take from this whole caper? Twenty-three dollars stolen when they initially broke into the house.

No word on whether General Motors is hiring the Ellis family to handle their negotiations with the United Auto Workers. Hope they don't need to beat on them a little bit more.

You Know I Can't Dance

A linebacker for the Philadephia Eagles, Dhani Jones, was arrested early Sunday morning for getting jiggy with it outside a vogue South Beach nightclub in Miami, Florida. Dhani probably thinks he a le freak, but he's really just a cool jerk.

Jones was shaking his groove thing outside the Snatch Rock & Roll Bar and Lounge at 2:51 am early Sunday morning. He was getting down tonight with an unidentified woman and several others who were into the groove and dancing in the street. Police told Jones this was not the land of 1000 dances and that this was his last dance and that he would have to take his celebration over to the YMCA. Jones responded that it was his prerogative that he needed more, more, more and that he was just boogie, oogie, oogieing to the music. Jones continued to push it, shout, rock the boat and didn't stop till he got enough.

That was a straight up misdemeanor for failure to obey a lawful command.

The Dancing Queen with Jones was smart enough to locomote out of the way of the Love Train that was due in the vicinity all night long, all night.

Jones is awaits arraignment at his brick house in Funkytown. His attorney, Louie Louie, said Jones never can say goodbye once he wants to dance with somebody. He alleges that police rang his bell causing a love hangover which required treatment from Doctor Love. The injuries may no longer allow Jones to get it up and feel like a sex machine and take his time and do it right. Luckily, Jones will survive after police left him this way.

Wow, that's 33 lame musical reference by my count. Unless I got it twisted or upside down the way I like it (that's the way). It's gonna make you sweat if you can't finally find them all and be the first, the last and my everything. The forecast is for it to start raining men so play that funky music, white boy. Ain't no stopping us now.

Spring Break Shenanigans

It's good to see that even though everyone goes to Florida on Spring Break, some folks from Michigan can still manage to get in trouble. Seems a couple of Michigan DJ's are being prosecuted for misdemeanor disorderly conduct.

Christopher Scott and Louis Green were running a wet t-shirt contest as an establishment called Hammerhead Fred's in Panama City, Florida. It's hard to tell whether this place is more of a nightclub or a restaurant, but I certainly wouldn't order the crabs.

A citizen of Panama City complained to local police that Spring Break festivities inside Fred's included Live Sex Acts (you always have to capitalize that phrase). No mention of who the wet blanket is because presumably everyone else in Hammerhead Fred's would kick his ass. The original complaint alleged that the contest had females up there performing "oral sex on one another" according to Bay County sheriff's Capt. Rickie Ramie.

"I just came here for a nice meal and then all these women started flashing me and I couldn't enjoy my grouper sandwich anymore." It's a shame a few bad apples have to ruin a good time for everyone.

Undercover officers were dispatched to the location of the complaint. And I can just imagine how the volunteers were chosen for that assignment. "All right, listen up. We've got a complaint of live sex acts at a bar here in town. Any volunteers to investigate? Anyone? C'mon guys, someone has to check this out."

Once the contest started, all hell broke loose. "The women were encouraged to remove the t-shirts, expose themselves, and allow the audience to fondle them and bite their nipples," wrote Tara Roberts of the Panama City Community Site. And if I'm running the Panama City Community Site, I'd be posting this too. I can't think of anything that would help tourism more, but please, no biting!

According to the DJ's, a woman on stage exposed herself (skin to win) after which undercover officers arrested "just about anybody within reach." Best part of that story? Written by Joe Snapper. Wouldn't you assign Joe Snapper to write any story with a seafood element?

No word on who won the contest, however, both Diana Chang (23 of Naperville, IL) and Jacquein Strong (17, of Orange Beach, AL) were taken into custody. She's just 17 (and you know what I mean)? Put her down, Jerry Lee. That means two things: she had both a fake id and fabulous breasticles. Chang is reportedly either a current of former student of the University of Illinois. Hopefully, she's majoring in Dance so this can be good for some class credits.

Now I don't know the nuances of this area of the law (darn). But Diana was arrested for lewd and lascivious conduct while Jacquein was arrested for nudity, indecent conduct at an establishment serving food. Is this a permit issue? Driving with a load not properly tied down perhaps? One is lewd and lascivious while one is nude and indecent around food. What could possible be the hair splitting going on around here? Maybe that's it. Maybe no hair nets were involved and it's really a hygiene issue.

Try not to expose yourself in public kids. But if you do, we can always play the video backwards and it'll look like you're coming to your senses.

Spring Break Safety Tips

The great thing about working for The Man at a large jumbotronic dronefarm is that periodically you receive stuff that is in no way intended to be funny yet really is. This is one of those times.

We were recently sent a Power Point presentation with all sorts of tips (many many tips, Lloyd Dobler) about how to be safe over Spring Break.

See if you can tell which ones I made up and which ones are designed to protect us Little Brains so we can return and continue to work for The Man. Yes, that sign over there is an actual visual from the presentation and not something I made up. I still prefer the "Prison Area - Do Not Pick Up Hitchhikers" sign a bit better. Especially Those In Striped Jump Suits is a possible addemdum.

Here We Go:

If Flying or Cruising, protect yourself and prevent the spread of communicable diseases (Norovirus, Avian Influenza, etc.) with hand hygiene as the focus of infection control.

Wash your hands after:
-using a toilet
-coughing or sneezing into hands
-vomiting in a toilet after the margarita contest
-engaging in any activity that may have contaminated hands
-giving a "high-jacking" so as to become a member of the Mile High Club
-touching dirty whores
-signing any waiver and exposing yourself for a movie camera

Wash your hands before:
-handling food
-eating or drinking
-smoking
-masturbating
-brushing teeth
-engaging in any activity that involves hand-to-mouth contact (including but not limited to blowjobs)
-screaming "I'm so wasted" and exposing yourself to complete strangers (with or without cameras)

Wash your hands frequently throughout the day even if you think they don’t need to be washed. Once you are asked if you suffer from an obsessive compulsive disorder, you need to wash your hands just a bit more.

Driver Safety in Urban or Foreign areas:

-Always lock your car doors while driving, and keep the windows up to keep others from reaching inside or your children escaping from your Hell on Wheels.
-At stop signs and lights keep the car in gear and stay alert. Don't stop, you fool! Can't you see they're after all your money. It's not paranoia, it's safety!
-Travel well-lighted, busy streets. The busier, the better. Ideally, a street should be so busy that you actually don't move at all.
-Keep your purse and other valuables out of sight. Ask your wife to hide her head in your lap for safety.
-Park in safe well lighted areas near your destination. Ideally, an airport runway.
-Always lock your car, even for a short absence. Otherwise, they'll find the drifter's body.
-Never pick up a hitchhiker. Especially one wearing a striped jump suit (discussed more fully above). Whores are still okay to pick up.
-Always keep a way out between you and the vehicle in front of you while stopped. What did we tell you about stopping? Knock it off already.

I'm sure there are other safety tips you can think up. Don't be shy about keeping us all safe while you're on Spring Break.

Meanwhile, I'll be hear slaving while you're off having fun. Dammit, don't I have any vacation left?

Pretty As A

I did more than just watch my brackets go up in flames this weekend. I also posted my Cayman Island pix on Flickr.

Go here if you want to torment yourself with tranquil beaches and beautiful water.

Bracketology

Are you watching? Do you already have the madness? How many brackets have you filled out already? Do it all the way to the Final Four or round by round or both? I think I've got about 4 brackets going with only 1 a round by round pick.

After yesterday, I'm 13/16. Seton Hall fucked me. But then I should know better than to listen to Dick Vitale.

I don't know any workplace that doesn't have a pool going. But don't believe that it's costing business an estimated 3.8 billion dollars in lost productivity. That's the number estimated by the Department of Statistics We Pulled Out of Our Ass. Because if employees didn't have the NCAA tourney to dick around with, they certainly couldn't find anything else to keep from doing their work. Like reading blogs.....

Oh, and happy St. Patrick's Day. Erin Go Braughless. What does Erin go Braugh really mean? It's the anglicized version of the Gaelic phrase which means Ireland Forever. Sort of a Mick version of Semper Fi. Don't drink too much green beer kids!

Get Into the Groove

Who's got the funk? I've got the funk. Just can't seem to get back into the swing of working for the Man.

I think my body has been climatized to the circardian rhythm of ocean waves, Red Stripes and reading in the sun. It has been a major chore to complete my appointed toil. I've been sitting in meetings non-stop since my returing and zoning out while I ponder who I would vote off my island.

Hopefully the onset of March Madness and the task of trying to track four NCAA brackets simultaneously will snap me out of my funk.

I don't think it helps that when you go on vacation, your work just sits. It's there waiting for you, growing larger and ever larger. Just like the dust bunnies under your bed. The longer it goes on, the worse the clean up will be.

At least I'm doing to 51 emails after three days--the power of multi-crapping during conference calls. My favorite trick to not pay attention, "I'm sorry, the phone cut out, can you repeat that question." An oldie but a goodie.

I wonder what's the longest amount of time you could be completely worthless at work and have no one notice? It may be 30 years for a few folks.

Hell & Back Again

I'm baaaaaaa-aaack. And no, despite what you may think, it wasn't a long time. Barely enough to regain my sanity (such as it is). Don't blame me. Delta only flies to the Caymans on Tuesdays and Saturdays. We were there 11 days. Since 2 were travel days that really shouldn't count, it was only 9 days in Paradise.

No, I was not lured away by a Dutch Boy. And shouldn't he be out painting somewhere anyway?

Yes, that's Hell over there on the right.
It really exists. And it sells t-shirts and other tourist trap crap. That's what I think Hell is going to be like anyway. We had to drive over from the East side of Grand Cayman where we were staying and check out Hell. Because if you flew a couple of thousand miles and then didn't drive 20 more to see Hell, you'd kick yourself the rest of your life.

Grand Cayman is only about 25 miles long. It's got a big port where all the annoying cruise ships put into during the week and make the downtown area amazingly congested. But since we were smart enough to avoid that area (after the first time), the ships make a nice sight from far away or when headed out to see at night while they are all lit up. The ships, not us all lit up.

Cayman seems to have the most amazingly blue water I've ever seen in my life. I don't know if it's the sun, the sand, the water or some amazing chemical they insert into the water to make it look that way, but it's awesome. Take a glance.
That's a wreck from 1903 we swam out to and snorkeled. I don't know how they make it that color, but it's absolutely gorgeous.

Michigan, for some strange reason, does not possess this color.

Cayman got whacked hard by Hurricane Ivan last year and they're still trying to clean up. A lot of folks were either under or un-insured. So there are lots of battered homes (some quite large) and a lot of the trees on the inner part of the island got whacked from all the seawater dumped on them.

That being said, there look to be some great deals in real estate around the island. Wife and I found a great little starter home. We couldn't actually find a For Sale sign, so we may just start squatting. It's got a great view. And when you've got a great view and true love, do you really need doors and windows? Granted the no protection from the weather may play hell with the electronic equipment (especially during the next 'cane season), but I don't think the cable runs out to that part of the island anyway.

Enough about nonsense. What else did we do? Beached and snorkled it every day. Swam with stingrays and even got to hold a big one. Saw a guy feed a 6 foot long green moray eel out of a cut out Clorox jug.

I've also got to get used to driving on the right side of the road again. And using traffic light instead of roundabouts. And wearing shoes. And shirts. And pants.

Man, this sucks. It's good to get away, but it's Hell to come home.

Later, Losers

Sorry about the title, but it's the new catch phrase around our office. A team member's kid got in trouble at day care for calling another kid a "loser." Specifically, it was "You're a loser." No one seems to know where she picked it up, but the thought of a three year old calling another toddler a loser makes us all crack up. I don't know where girls pick up their cattiness, but it must be learned at an early age. Anyway, everyone is now a loser at least several times a day. Especially when you're leaving for the day. It's typically, "Later, losers."

And that phrase applies to me, cause I'm outta here for a bit. Wife and I are in the Cayman Islands for a bit. Ya'll have to find another blog to kick around and get your giggles from cause I'll be here. Yes, they have a webcam (though it seemed snafu to me) and a blog. If you see a pix or a post of a happy camper with a book, snorkel equipment and a beer (though not necessarily in that order), it'll probably be me.

So like all tv shows, here are a few reruns to hold you over until we start live production again. Are these "Best of?" That would seem to imply it was ever good. Let's call it "Classic t2ed." You really want the new stuff, but you'll have to suck on this while it's the only thing available.

• The Horrible Napkin Holder Incident
• Half-Assed Ideas
• Free Radio
• Christopher Walken's Cabinet (I can't believe....you're not reading this)
• Herman the Spokescrab
• Movie Stars, is there anything they don't know?
• Rudi in the Sky with Santa (I know it's not Xmas, zip it!)

That's about 1 a day. Try to ration yourself. Extended exposure to genius may result in mental burning. Yeah, genius. Heh. If that's the "good stuff" stay far away from the shitty stuff! Try not to burn through them all at once. Savor every word. Enjoy both the musical entendres and boobie references. Pace yourself.

Or just gorge on them all like it's the entire box of Snackwells we know you ate when you were feeling depressed about your diet.

Later, losers.

L'amour? Oui.

Because I'm an international man o' mystery, the French dig me.

http://www.google.fr/search?hl=fr&q=INCONTENTINENCE&meta=

In fact, you could say they've surrendered to me. That's so funny, I think I wet 'em.

It's all bon.

At least the Brits know I'm about about higher learning.

http://search.msn.co.uk/results.aspx?q=%22London%20Academy%20of%20Sex%20%26%20Relationships%22&FORM=QBRE

I so need to get a t-shirt from that place.

Urine Trouble Now

I've said it before and I'll say it again. No, not Men Love Boobies. The Buckeye State is nuts! More goofy shit going down in Ohio.

Alan Patton has been arrested for drinking the urine of young boys in Columbus, Ohio. Oh, and he's been doing it for 47 YEARS! God, that's disgusting.

Asked why he chose to partake of the "Coors Extra Light" he said, "It's almost spiritual...like I'm drinking their youth." He then followed up with "B-b-b-b-b-b-whoo hoo hoo, cuckoo, cuckoo, nyah, nyah, nyah." Okay, I made that last part up. Just be glad I couldn't figure out how to type a rubber band sound.

Boy that leaves a foul taste in my mouth. Anyone want some lemonade?

Did you really expect this to end other than with a cheap pee pee joke. Come on, you know me better than that. I'm especially sorry if you get the Kevin Costner reference because that means you saw it too. Milk, milk, lemonade, 'round the corner, fudge is made.

Now That's a Pecker

The Olympics are mercifully almost over. But today's curling match between the UK and US was interrupted.

If you're not familiar with curling, it involves janitorial services, bowling and ice.

Yes it was interrupted by a Golden Palace.com streaker wearing a rubber chicken. Check out that strategic placement. The crazy hat is a nice touch as well.

Now that the Winter Olympics are over (or almost over, I'm not watching/caring), what are we going to do with all those former AOL disks they've been using as medals?

• skeet targets
• coasters
• ninja throwing stars
• ring toss
• spinning plates for a circus act
• really dangly earrings
• Little League "Sportsmanship" Award (only given to the complete spazzes)
• drink tokens

Spider Girl

I've written before about how sometimes you need a Cosmo Kramer. Someone who can just say what you've agonized about telling someone for ages.

And it's usually someone you don't know very well. Because you can tell a real friend everything. It's those middling folk who you're not sure how they'll take unsolicited advice. Well, it's happening again.

There's a girl who works at the tanner who looks like Tammy Faye Baker. Seriously, she wears more eye makeup than that.

Doesn't she have any friends? A boyfriend? A mother? Anyone who can tell her for to quit wearing so much mascara? I know it's only a matter of time before I blow. I'll have a cocktail in me and stop in and just blurt it out. "You look like a fucking raccon. Knock it off with the mascara!"

There's got to be another way, but how do you work up to that?

• "Do you know you have two spiders on your face?"
• "Do you often use a trowel to get ready in the morning?"
• "Did you enjoy clown college?"
• "Have you ever thought about the natural look?"
• "What color are your eyes?"
• "Are you thinking about marrying a disgraced televangelist?"

I'd love to get a picture to post it so you'd know I'm not exaggerating. But if I could trick her into a picture, I could probably just tell her anyway.

And if she takes it the wrong way (imagine the mascare trax if she starts crying), I'll never be able to go back there. That tanner will be dead to me, Fredo.

I Had a Theme, I Had an Awesome Theme

I was talking with someone recently and declared that if I were Lord of All I Survey, I'd have someone release doves every time I entered a room. Upon further reflection, I've decided that when (not if) I become the Master of My Domain, I'd rather have a great theme song that could be played whenever I enter a room. It's a little presidential but instead of Hail to the Chief, it'll be something good. Other than the Prez, I think Bob Hope (Thanks for the Memories) and Johnny Carson (Tonight Show Theme) were the last real people to have theme songs. I'm going to fix all that.

The Paul Shaffer and the World's Most Dangerous Band (as seen on David Letterman) always does a good job with this if you're paying attention. When a guest gets intro they play him or her out with something that's usually pretty clever. I like to play along at home.

My Song - Darth Vader's Theme (love that kettle drum intro) or My Boyfriend's Back
Dick Cheney - You Give Love a Bad Name (think of the opening line)
George W. Bush - If I Only Had a Brain (Scarecrow's Theme from Wizard of Oz)
John Kerry - Mr. Ed
Bill Clinton - To All The Girls I've Loved Before
Nick Lachey - Money
Paris Hilton - Why Don't We Do It in the Road
Joe Pesci - Send In the Clowns
Tara Reid - One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer
Pam Anderson - Naughty Girls Need Love Too
Courtney Love - Hotel California
Thomas Jefferson - Brown Sugar/Black Betty (tie)
Abe Lincoln - Long Tall Sally
Tom Cruise - Crazy Train

I'm sure you can think of others, kids. Feel free to play along at home.

Run for the Hills

If you live in LA, it may already be too late. First, I pity you and the endless strip malls, traffic and self-indulgence. Second, a giant slime like substance is devouring your city. Yes, according to the LA Daily News, a "mystery blob is eating downtown." As I recall, this doesn't bode well for either Steve McQueen or Kevin Dillon.

They'd better try electrocuting this thing. Or maybe that didn't kill it? Was it fire? Acid? Cold? Uh, oh. Somebody either get a film historian on the phone or run down to a Blockbuster quick.

Of course with all the Hollywood agents out there, you could argue there's been a bunch of slime coursing through the streets for a long time.

Hug it out, bitches.

Mobix Dick

A UK company, Mobix, has purchased Ipods for its employees. The life-changing devices are pre-loaded with audiobooks with comedy selections. Mobix's rationale is that listening to the comedy riffs will reduce stress during the commute to work and cheer them up on the way to work.

This is a swell idea that obviously won't work. First, you know there's at least one closet goth kid amongst the Mobix rank and file. And he or she will be listening to speedmetal or something in that vein before he or she goes on their five state killing spree. Then the company gets named in the suit and has to file for Chapter 11. Okay, that would only happen in the States with our legal system.

I do like the idea of novel ways to improve employee morale. Of course an argument can be made that the company could always have taken the money to buy and Ipod for each employee and actually given it directly to the employee. Then they could have purchased whatever item might make them happier.

One time we lost our air conditioning at work in the middle of the Summer and the head manager came by with ice cream sandwiches in an effort to cool us off. Didn't work but we all appreciated the effort.

At Virtucon to improve employee morale we have a swell lil internal system that lets you send an email/ecard to someone for doing something good. That way this really won't interfere with them returning to their toil after being all moraled up. Yeah, it's a Dilbert cartoon, butcept I'm not making this up.

I wonder what the most creative employee morale idea anyone has ever had. If I were Lord Of All I Survey, there'd be live music in the cafeteria. Oh and I'd release doves whenever I entered the room for a meeting. That could get messy, but it would still be beautiful.

I'm Just Talking 'Bout Taft

It's President's Day, ya'll. So get out there and buy a mattress or a waterbed. At least that's how it seems we should be celebrating today. Alternatively, you could try to do something suitably presidential today.

For example:

• Don't go to college (9 didn't including Washington, Jackson, Van Buren, Taylor, Fillmore, Lincoln, A. Johnson, Cleveland, and Truman)
• If you have to go to school, pick Harvard (6 did) or Yale (5 including the Law School)
• Be a British subject (8 presidents were)
• Die in Office (the 8 are W. Harrison (after only a one month), Taylor, Lincoln, Garfield, McKinley, Harding, F. Roosevelt, and Kennedy
• Be Buried in Arlington Cemetary (Taft and Kennedy)
• Get Impeached (Johnson and Clinton but you know Nixon would have got it too, but he resigned)
• Get Blown (Clinton, Kennedy, Harding, Roosevelt, Wilson Eisenhower and Jefferson [and Johnson according to Kris] were all rumored to have mistresses or interns on the side)

Okay so that last one isn't exactly verifiable, but you know Jefferson was totally hitting all the staff.

Nice Ice, Baby

That "Fierce Winter Storm" which "Sweeps Across Midwest?" Yeah, it's still sweeping across my ass right now.

Really wild weather. Rain, sleet, snow and thunder and lightning. We had everything but a deluge of frogs. They're full of shit though. We didn't have any 60 mph wind. As the night got colder, a lot of branches came down and knocked out power. . Flickers most of the night. Luckily it didn't seem to go out for good until about 9. Wife and I were able to see who got the ousting on Survivor so life is good in that regard. After a lil loving, we slept like newborns. What else was there to do?

Sadly, no power this morning when we woke up. Candlelight showering is not to be missed. And also a great excuse not to shave. Lots of ladies in hats walking around Virtucon today. Among those who could be bothered to come in of course. We're at probably 1/2 of our personnel. One of our corporate buildings is even closed. Unfortunately, I'm not lucky enough to be toiling for the man in that building. But, knock on wood, at least we have heat in my building.

Current estimates are for power to be restored Sunday. I'm not sure how you estimate a 48 hour repair time for power restoration. "Ummm, how's two days for you? Two days good?" I don't think I can do the humpty dance for 48 hours but if there's nothing else to do, there's nothing else to do. Luckily, it's supposed to get to 8 tonight so there's plenty of incentive for shared bodily warmth.

It's crap weather like this that really makes you envy the lucky stiffs who get to go to Spring Training. I can honestly say this is the most I've ever thought about the weather in my entire life.

Don't worry, kids. I'm sure I'll be back to my normal craptacular topics come Monday. Maybe something crazy will happen in Ohio or another Bush executive will go on a five state killing spree. Keep your fingers crossed. And for those of you on the East Coast, enjoy!

The Next Year We Waited For

It begins today. No, I'm not talking about Mattress Sale Blowouts cleverly disguised as President's Day Events or post VD chocolate markdowns at your crappy grocery store who grossly overestimated the girth of their patrons.

Pitchers and catchers report.

Can you feel it? That sense of optimism of every team. Even the lowly Tigers who seem to be constantly re-tooling? This year it's another new manager, Jim Leyland. He was good (maybe even great) when he managed Pittsburgh. But then if I got to manage Andy Van Slyke, Bobby Bonilla and Barry Bonds (pre-roids), I might look like a manager of the year too. And if you don't recognize any of those names, don't worry. They were bona fide studs. Great players always make the manager look like a genius. Leyland was less successful in Florida and outright awful in Colorado. Luckily, he smokes which is probably a good thing if you're going to manage the Tigers.

But despite that cynicism, it's the crack of the bat, the smell of new cut grass, the cry of vendors ("Hot Knots" being my personal favorite of pretzel sellers everywhere), the taste of a ball park hot dog that you can't seem to get anywhere else, the crunch of peanut shells underfoot as you juggle a massive beer and a program down to your seat, the feeling of the sun on your face as you emerge from the darkened underground to the field proper, the misguided optimistic feeling that your team instead of the God Damn Yankees and Bosox might actually have a chance this year if everyone can just stay healthy for longer than two weeks.

Play ball, boys.

Sam the Meat Bandit (Part 2)

Do you remember Sam Dottore? He's the crafty criminal who stole a pot roast, then swiped a golf cart to make the 40 mile getaway to his home. Yes, of course, he's from Ohio!

The Man gave him 90 days for his lil caper.

At his sentencing, Sam said it was just stupidity, couldn't explain why he took someone else's golf cart and admitted to mixing alcohol with his psychiatric meds. Now that's a triple threat people.

Can you believe that good looking cat over there was subject to the vagaries of stupidity, drinking and self-medicating? Yeah, I know.

In his defense, it does look as if he wore one of his nicest flannel shirt to the sentencing hearing. That always makes a good impression on the Judge.

For Sam's sake, I hope he doesn't tell the fellow inmates he's in for stealing a frozen roast and a golf cart. That'll wind up making him someone's bitch for certain.

Better luck, Sam I Am. This one's for you. My apologies, Dr. Suess.

I do not like the frozen roast

I do not like it

Sam, I am

I do not like it in Medina

I do not like it in Carolina

I do not like it on a cart

I will not, can not, shop Super WalMart

I will not eat it on some breads

I will not mix it with my meds

I do not like it with a beer

I will not eat it on a pier

I will not like the state big house

That Judge is surely such a louse

3 months is unjustly unfair

Mayhaps an inmate will braid my hair

I will not, can not ever flee

With a golf cart to Sandusky

If I pull a stupid caper again

I'll be sure to bring a friend

Cheney's Got A Gun

While this begs for an audio post, it's against the Constitution. Think "cruel and unusual."

Cheney's got a gun
Great big old shot gun
Winging hunters on the run
What did that lawyer do?
Look out Scooter Libby too

They say that Cheney went a hunting
Lobbyist money grubbing
Dick's heart began a pumping
Tthe 12 gauge was a thumping
Whittington went astray

Cheney's got a gun
Media better run
Don't ask about his daughter
Or else he's gonna slaughter
Osama's lawyer too

Cheney's got a gun
W's almost done
Halliburton's stock up quick
Makes me want to be real sick
Tell me know that it split
Who did old Dicky screw?

Jesus, Mary & Aunt Jemima

I've told folks before that the crazy in Ohio isn't like the crazy in any other State. It goes to up to 11. And that's not just counting my relatives.

A couple in Beachwood, Ohio are selling a Jesus Pancake on eBay that they claim has the image of Christ on it. Use that Jesus Pancake link if you want to blow that picture up and take real good look for our Savior of Buckwheat & Maple Syrup.

This kind of crap even makes the news in Ohio. Not just the paper, the tv for crying out loud.

I don't see it. I mean I see a guy with a beard and eyes and a nose, but it looks like he's got some type of weird hat on his head.

Of course, I'm not very acquainted with divine visages in my breakfast foods. Or course, here's what another church has to say about it.

I think the real question is what kind of food would Jesus be likely to appear in? I don't think it would be any either deviled eggs or hot cross buns. Probably just a fish sandwich. Then he'd be combining the whole loaves and fishes thing.

Wow, we've gone from penises to Paris to Jesus in just one week. I'm so going to hell.

ead.

P.S. Thanks for all the nice things ya'll said about Paris.

Paris is Burning (and Itching)

Some news outlets are reporting that Paris Hilton has lost her diary. Man, that girl can't hang on to anything--her diary, her phone, her fiancee. I almost went with dignity there, but that was gone after she was in a show on Fox. Another outlet is reporting that there are allegedly 18 diaries for sale. And only for $20 million.

It's amazing. Who knew Paris knew how to write?

I'm guessing that Ms. Hilton failed to make payments on a storage facility where the items were kept. If you get far enough behind on your payments at one of those places, they can auction off your shit. They've got to let you know beforehand, but it's not difficult to imagine that Ms. Hilton might be behind on her written correspondence.

People seem to be speculating that the diaries might contain "risque stories and saucy images." Paris risque? I'm shocked to find gambling in Casablance. And by risque, they mean pornographic.

I can only imagine what entries in Paris Hilton's diaries might be like. Well luckily, this reporter was working the phones with all my contacts in LA and was able to come up with some entries from one of Paris' diaries. (And you knew we were headed here didn't you kids?)

3/15/04
Dear Diarey:
Nicole and I are headed to a klub. Maybe will meat some cute boyz? Hope so cuz that'd be hott. I love to dance. Even more with boyz. That's hott.

6/24/04
Dear Dairy:
Where have I bin for five months? My mouth tastes like ass and my ass hurts. Is this a tattoo or a rash?

7/4/04
Dear Dairey:
Tink is lost. :( Daddy said he'd bye me another just like hur.

8/15/04
Darey:
That bitch Nicole rooned my birthday. She showed that sextape I made in front of everyone. I was so embarrassed when I answered my phone. And she knows that's not my best side. I'll destroy that bitch.

10/3/04
Deyeree:
Met the cutest boy while in Yoorup. His name is Paris too so I can remember it easy. And I don't yell out the wrong name anymore when doing it. He gave me such a big ring. I really love it and he is okay too.

12/26/04
Diaree:
Paris wants to marry me! I knew learning to swallow it would be good for something some day. I'm so excitied. I'm gonna be just like a princesss with jools and a crown and a puppy.

1/4/05
Diareea:
Paris Mom & Dad hated me! They were so meen and rude. Paris (not me) said we'd still get married. Then his dad started yelling about fund trust and Paris (not me still) got all quiet. He was real quiet even after I blew him later.

2/15/05
D:
This wuz the wurst VD ever. Paris totally broke up with me bucuz of his mean old parents. Bitches! I'm am keeping the ring because it is so shiny and sparkly and hott.

And the diary mysteriously ends there. Poor Paris. Hope she gets those diaries back soon. It'd be terrible if something ruined her good name.

If you're lucky enough to find any of Paris's entries, be sure to leave a comment here, kids.

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

PS. In a truly spooky coincidink, Kim posted about Paris too. Ya'll better make right with the Lord because Armageddon may be upon us.

At Least They're Not Made of Snow

I'm not sure what's gotten everyone fixated on all things phallic. Maybe it's Valentine's Day coming up and everyone wants to get their groove on. And while I'm unaware if Valentine's Day is celebrated in Germany, their football fans are certainly creative in their heckling.

Fans of Borussia Dortmund used inflatable penises (no word if they're giant) to shake at the opposing fans. They also had a banner which said the opposition should "procreate with themselves" according to the story. I'm guessing that was something in the realm of "Go Fuck Yourself." Unfortunately despite all the peterwaving, the game was a 0-0 tie. Wow, is soccer exciting or what.

That's probably why we'll stick to football here in the States. But I've got to admit, had all the Steelers fans at Ford Field been equipped with inflatable penises, the game would have even been better. Especially when Big Ben was introduced and everyone went wild with their peterwave. I'd like to see the censor try to blur that out.

Ramdom Musing Monday

Because I'm still recovering from Super Bowl fever, I've got nothing for a coherent topic this morning. Still that won't prevent me from posting the little pearls of wisdom (yeah, right) that buzz in my brain and prevent me from finally beating Tourette's Syndrome.

• What's the big deal about that French woman getting a new mouth, chin and nose?. Cher has had those for years.
• Lance Armstrong and Sheryl Crow are breaking up (it is being reported). I heard that since he retired all he did was follow her around the house and made her crazy with incessant questions. At least we'll be spared all those "eating Crow" jokes from now on. No word on who gets custody of the puppy.
• I don't get the whole Mohammed cartoon protest thing. If people were going to go ape over a cartoon, you'd think it would be Tripping the Rift. And that's what separates us from the Muslim world, we have a sense of humor. If the Lebanese burn the Danish embassy, I think the Danes should throw bacon at the Lebanese embassy.
• I'll miss Grampa Munster. You might also know him as Al Lewis.
• Ben Roethlisberger still hasn't crossed that goal line. It's still good to see a kid from Findlay, OH make good though.
• Watch yourself. Courtney Love is back on the streets.

That's it, kids. I need a nap. Prime Time football just wears me out.

Boehner or Blunt?

Everyone who says the GOP doesn't have a sense of humor can just suck it. The Republicans have been making me laugh for years now. I just wish it were intentional. Comedy writers all over are thanking their lucky stars for this one.

The new House Majority Leader is John Boehner of Ohio. Don't fall for that "it's pronounced long a" nonsense. The Bone man cometh. Why doesn't it surprise me that the folks from Ohio picked a guy named Boehner to elect? The Boehner defeated Roy Blunt from Missouri.

I know that Republicans would rather have a Boehner than a Blunt any day of the week. They are the pro-life party after all.

Let's see if I can come up with a few headlines for this announcement:

• Boehner blows away Blunt
• Boehner up after Delay done
• Happy to see us, Boehner heads GOP
• GOP finally notices Boehner
• Boehner in Congress leads way
• Boehner breaks back to beat Blunt (you know the NY Post will steal this one)
• Boehner joins Bush atop party

These just write themselves, kids. Feel free to submit your own entendres. Hopefully you can get a Boehner of your own this weekend.

Without Dennis, It's a Sham

I wish this were made up. But it isn't. So be afraid, be very afraid.

Dennis Rodman is resigning as the Commissioner of the Lingerie Bowl. It's true and even got an honest to God press release.

Ostensibly Dennis is bailing because of a sponsorship conflict. But I know better. It's because the girls are shaving--points.

Now I'll confess to being wholly ignorant about the Lingerie Bowl. In fact if it's just one game, a commish seems fairly superfluous. Whether it's a cross-dressing marriage, Celebrity Mole or Celebrity Big Brother, only Dennis can bring his particular style of gravitas to an event. Without Dennis, it's just a freak show.

It's just a shame that no one can truly hope to fill Dennis's shoes as the Commish of the Lingerie Bowl. Now there's no reason to go to Detroit at all this weekend.

GSP Redux

I thought the attack of the giant snow penises was limited in its scope. But it must be more widespread than previously thought, because now it's being outlawed.

Ripon College in Wisconsin (80 miles NW of Milwaukee) is putting its collective foot down on the giant penis snow sculpture. And that's gotta hurt. A new policy at the college only allows tasteful sculptures that reflect the academic mission of the school. Now I don't know about your collegiate experience, but a giant phallus pretty accurately depicts the experience of most undergraduates at any school.

Setting the standard as "tasteless" however will only open the randy Ripon Red Hawks up to litigation. What about artistic expression and free speech? When giant snow penises are outlawed, only outlaws will have giant snow penises.

It's good to know that Ripon college has solved academic fraud, student loan poverty, underage (and binge) drinking, date rape and fraternity hazing so they can focus on the truly important things--like tasteless and offensive snow sculptures.

I'm just sorry Ripon college didn't have any swell pictures to post as examples of tasteless sculptures. Now we're all in the dark as to what will pass muster for the next Ripon College Snow Festival. Damn.

Freaky Friday (in which Our Hero is Assaulted)

I try not to get too autobiographical here. First, my life is pretty boring what with the wage earning, space exploration and crime fighting and all. Second, nobody should like talking about themselves that much. Blogging by its very nature should be enough self-indulgence for oneself.

But last Friday was a swell capper to the week. And all of this is true. I swear to God it is.

At 11:00 am, I attended my best friend's mother's funeral. I counted and this is only the third funeral I've ever had to go to. Clean living I guess.

A dinky little church out in the farmland of Michigan. You drive across bare, snow-covered fields and hope you don't have Bruce Springsteen's The River in the CD player of your car and a loaded gun in the trunk, because you'll kill yourself and won't make it.

Now I never met my buddy's Mom, so I was really going for him. Put in a quick appearance, sit in back, duck out early if no one is looking. No such luck. Old people sat behind us. Old people who sang loudly. Loudly and off-key.

And I know why people don't dig church. Music from the 6o's--the 1860's. A priest/minister/shaman who is completely out of touch. And bagpipes! They always like to go with the bagpipe at a funeral because only the deceased is spared from the caterwauling. And I can't hear Amazing Grace without thinking of Mr. Spock at the end of Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan and getting a little verklempt.

At lunch afterwards, Wife and I were commenting about the music. We were both trying to decide what we'd play at the funeral if the other one died. I was opting for Hate Myself for Loving You or Your Love is Like Bad Medicine. She was leaning toward Julie Brown's I Like Them Big and Stupid or Sympathy for the Devil by the Stones. You know...the classics.

After lunch, I got my annual physical. And because I'm 40 now, I got the complete physical. Yes, grab your cheeks and spread them, the Bareback Mountain, the welcome to Deliverance County physical. And what really twists me up, is that I didn't come back with any retort to the process. Granted this is completely unlikely. I just held on to that damn exam table and prayed for it to be over. What I should have said was one of the following:

• Doc, do I get to keep your watch?
• If you find my dignity, let me know.
• Usually I get dinner before I let someone do this.
• But can you clap?
• [singing] Fly me to the moo-ooo-oon.
• [as Morgan Freeman] That was the longest night of Andy Dufresne's life. Oh, Andy.

I'm sure there are others. At least my Doc is a woman and has small hands. Can't wait till next year.

Unanswered Questions

I slept like crap last night. I think it's because I have a lot of unanswered questions buzzing in my brain.

• Is this the best idea we can come up with to fight Avian flu?
• Will the merger of Pixar and Disney be called Dixar?
• Why does Google cooperate with the Chinese government on censorship but not the US government on search engine data? Is the US gov't more evil than the Chinese gov't? Did we run over some kids with tanks that I don't remember?
• Why couldn't it have been Sean Penn? Or even better Yoko Ono?
• Is it possible that Ron Artest and Terrell Owens could die in a lover's suicide pact?
• Will Celebrity Mammograms be green lighted as a summer replacement series?
• Is there a football game coming up? Because I'm not hearing enough about Jerome Bettis. And his Mom & Dad.
• Will someone pick up Arrested Development for crying out loud?
• If Brokeback Mountain featured female cowpokes, would it have won as many awards?
• If Oprah's feelings are hurt, does she not cash the checks?

Sorry about all the randomness lately. I just can't seem to stay on topic. But then there is no off position on the genius switch. Yeah, right.

Rocket Man

I still can't believe we don't have flying cars yet, but we have rocket bikes.

It's true. The geek over there strapped a 200 lb thrust rocket engine to his bike and can go from 0 to 60 mph in five seconds. And if case you were wondering, yes, it is rocket science.

Just think what that's going to do for New York bike courier services. Your Chinese food should never be cold again. I also think it would have improved the movie Quicksilver, but probably not Breaking Away as that was a more character driven vehicle. (Wow, was that pun smelly and a long way to go)

This should also make the next Summer X Games much more entertaining as we should be able to see 100 foot jumps and spectacular crashes. Yay!

Always In Threes

Shelley Winters, Wicked Wilson Pickett and now Chris Penn.

You're safe for now, Abe Vigoda.....

Alito Shuffle

They were showing some more "testimony" highlights as it appears Alito will make it out of Committee and head to the Senate floor for a confirmation vote. I must have been paralyzed or lost the remote control because I actually watched a bit. I know, I know, but then I like watching demolition derby too. And they're really the same thing.

The only thing I can come up with is that people (and by people I mean Assbag Senators) were too busy grandstanding and only asked softball questions that their staffers had prepared. Here were the questions I would have asked:

• How long should you let a dead woman's body remain underwater in your car before you call the police?
• When you cheat in law school and plagiarize someone else's writing, how do you feel it should impact your campaign for the presidency?
• What is the most expensive gift you've ever received illegally from a lobbyist?
• What is the most egregious amendment you've ever attached to an appropriation to make sure your home district gets to suckle from the public teat?
• Better Darrin: Dick York or Dick Sargent?
• Paper or Plastic?
• Have you ever had a real job not connected with politics that your family didn't get or create for you?
• Nude, All Nude or Totally Nude?
• How much income tax did you personally pay last year? How much did you really owe?
• When was the last time you had sex with an intern? Male or female?
• How many times can you cheat on your spouse but still run on a campaign of family values? How many divorces have you personally had? How many marriages or weddings have you broken up?
• Can you sleep while sitting up and wearing a dark robe?
• Do you think your job as a judge is to make history or pick the next Miss Universe?
• If you die and go to hell and have to cross the River Styx, will you row or wade?
• Have you ever knocked up your high school sweetheart and then needed a quickie abortion so you wouldn't have to get married and wind up working at a Shell station with your name on your uniform?
• Have you stopped making your wife cry during confirmation hearings?
• Who is the biggest assbag you've ever met in Washington, DC? Not including Dan Snyder.

Man this had such potential. It's a shame a few bad apples have to ruin a good time for everyone.

Dangerously Hot Crotches

According to someone in Chicago, wearing corduroy pants with vertical piping can result in DANGEROUSLY HOT CROTCHES.

As I've recently been playing Guitar Hero and trying to pick a name for my band, this really hits home. Historically, the name for my band (not that I ever had one or would ever have one) was T-Bag T2ed and the Bag 'O Tricks. Yes, this is a bag joke about tea-bagging. This mythical band name is immediately being retired and replaced with Dangerously Hot Crotches.

I don't know why that phrase sounds so perfect to me. It's like some primal calling. It's bouncing around in my head--Dangerously Hot Crotches, Dangerously Hot Crotches, Dangerously Hot Crotches.

Also, I'm figuring that all searches for Dangerously Hot Crotches will now come here directly because I've used the phrase Dangerously Hot Crotches more times than a used car commercial. C'mon down to Dangerously Hot Crotches because we've got the most Dangerously Hot Crotches in the tri-state region! If you can't find the Dangerously Hot Crotch you're looking for on our Dangerously Hot Crotch lot, I'll give you a free cap that says "I Can't Find a Dangerously Hot Crotch."

But seriously, no one should be wearing cords regardless of their Dangerously Hot Crotch fixation.

And Then Depression Set In

According to some mathematician, today, January 23rd as the most depressing day of the year. It's psuedo-science kids, so it must be true. And it's on the interweb. That makes it doubly true.

Here's the formula: 1/8W+(D-d)3/8xTQMxNA I'm sure that's crystal clear now, eh?

That equation is supposed to factor in weather (W), debt (D from maxed out Christmas bills that finally arrive in January), subtracting your monthly salary (d) from all that debt, time (T meaning post Xmas blues and failing at your New Year's Resolutions), not quitting a bad habit (Q), low motivation (M) and the need to do something (NA). Oh and it's on a Monday because I don't like Mondays.

And I think some of the surveying may have been done in Denver and North Carolina.

So with all that depression likely hitting everyone today, here's what you can do. Get a little comfort food (I'm opting for macaroni & cheese), kick off your shoes and let the following Random Monday Musings take hold of your brain.

• I'm betting that Jennifer Aniston got good and drunk last weekend.
• Now that they fixed baseball, Congress is going to tackle coal mines.
• Osama Bin Laden's tape translated to "You're doing a heck of a job, Bushie. Oh, and death to America."
• You just know the Super Bowl is going to be a blowout too.
• Now that Wilson Pickett and Shelley Winters are dead, can Abe Vigoda be far behind?
• Would you attend Brokeback Mountain if you could wear assless chaps and throw yogurt?
• To coach the Lions, does your name have to start with an M?
• Will Michael Jackson's first attraction be named Mr. Toad's Pantless Ride?
• E hiring Isaac Mizrahi for the red carpet because you wanted something "surprising" was a great move. You sure couldn't get that with Kathy Griffin.
• If I pretended to be gay, could I grope Scarlett Johansson?

That's it. I'm tapped out, kids. Be strong...at least for the rest of the day.

That's No Dead Man's Chest

According to the Tampa Bay Times, a pornographic movie featuring a pirate theme was filmed on the HMS Bounty while it was at the St. Peterburg pier. Knowing that sex sells, the Times has a whole feature called Porn at the Pier. The owner of the boat claims he was lied to and not told that the movie would be pornographic. Yeah, and I thought all those hot girls were topless because they liked me.

The name of the movie is simply Pirates, which isn't very creative no matter how much effort you put into the film production. And I thought they always went with something a lot more clever when they ripped off commercial titles for the porn version. I still remember seeing the title "Hannah Does Her Three Sisters" somewhere and laughing out loud. So if you're going to rip off Pirates of the Caribbean, you've got to do better than just Pirates. May I suggest the following: (and you knew we were headed her didn't you?)

• Cap'n Jack Does More Than Swallow
• That's Not a Peg Leg
• Second Mate
• Shiver Me Other Timber
• Blow the Man Up & Down
• Open That Chest
• An STD is not a Pirate's Curse
• Cabin Girl
• Ship Shape
• Gunner's Mate
• Thrust, Parry and Thrust Again
• Curse of the Black Girl
• Mutiny on Her Bounty
• Swimming With Bowlegged Women
• Yo, Ho, Oh My God!

Feel free to submit your own, kids.

Technology Is King

I'm not sure why, but this is the funniest thing I've seen in a long time.


You can play along too, kids.

Red Carpet Moments

I'll admit to watching the Golden Globes last Monday. Especially when Drew Barrymore was on. And it was so lame on tv that despite the power of TIVO, we were sucked in to some of the red carpet shows.

But did anyone see Scarlet Johansson get felt up by the gay guy on ETV? I completely missed this but was doing a lot of flipping, cursing, and more flipping. Did this really happen?

And Ryan Secrest hosting reminded me of my new favorite joke courtesy of David Letterman.

Which of these things is not like the other?
a) a drill
b) a hammer
c) a screwdriver
d) Ryan Secrest

Answer: It's a trick question. They're all tools.

This Train Announcement is Brought to you by the Letter O

If you're lucky enough to be riding the train in Melbourne, Australia, enjoy it while it lasts. Because local authorities are cracking down on your sexy conductor.

A "husky-voiced" woman is commandeering the public address system and engaging in some x-rated bawdy talk. Passengers on the train were not amused. Especially those with kids. But then it is the land down under.

Quote of the Story: "There was a woman on the address system. It was very graphic about how she was going to have sex with a driver for about three minutes."

Funny, I think that's what it would say if the male driver was describing it. I think the quotee means she described her sexual activities for about three minutes and not that she wanted it to last three minutes. You never know, it was rush hour and people have to get off at their stop.

Apparently the PA break-in's are become more frequent and longer. But then isn't that really the goal? Doesn't everyone want it more frequently and longer?

I think they just ought to try to get her to announce the stations. At least that way someone will finally listen to the announcements. Tell me the next stop. Sloooowly.

This is a great new opportunity for the Connex who operates the metropolitan train system to seize the day and go with a whole new branding campaign. Here are my twisted ideas:

• Love Train
• The Little Engine That Will
• Trains Entering Tunnels Again and Again
• Get Off on Our Train
• Do the Tube
• There is no I in Conductor But There Is U
• Hop On, Hop Off
• $1.95 per minute
• Great Rides
• We Put the X in Train X-ings
• Our Tennis Isn't the only thing that's Open

Feel free to submit you own, kids. And if you think I'm not going to use their feedback form to submit these ideas, you don't know me very well.