I Could Be Wrong

The term genius is bandied about too often. Okay, it's often by me whenever I find a comedian who makes me laugh, think and poop all at the same time.

But this here, is genius. Brought to you by Tim Wilson. Just be glad I'm too much of a caveman to figure out how to put an audio file in Blogger. Because this song will get stuck in your head.

Warning, the following contains adult language. And by adult I mean dirty. If you think swears make the Sweet Baby Jebus cry, you should stop reading now. But then if you don't use the F bomb, you're not really talking about taxes.

I guess I'm tired of Oprah Winfey's ass
Telling me every move to make.
And I'm tired of Martha Stewart's ass
Telling me how to bake a cake.

And I've just about had my fill
Of Dr. Fucking Phil.
Tired of looking at Tiger's ass
And Shaquille O'Fucking Neill.

Paris Hilton can fuck up a county fair.
Just proof that that you can be stupid
And still be a billion-fucking-aire.

I'm tired of Simon's ass
Telling people that they can't sing.
I'd fire Donald Trump's ass
For knowing every fucking thing.

Jim and Brad and Angelina's ass,
I'm about tired of looking at them.
And I'm about ready for Hollywood's ass
To run out of fucking film.

I'm tired of everything on tv.
Everybody loves Raymond.
Except for fucking me.

I'm tired of that Lance's ass
In France riding on a bike.
And I could pretty much give a damn
What some actress's dress looks like.

It'd be nice if hip hop's ass
Would finally learn to play three chords.
And I'm about filled up with Nashville's ass
And the Hand Me A Trophy Awards.

Barry Bonds hitting a bunch of fake home runs.
And a fake ass Larry the Cable's ass
Can git 'r fucking done.

I'd like to watch football's ass
Without worrying about T.O.
And I'm resolved to tell Dubya's ass
Where the fuck he can fucking go.

I'll be the first to second telling the Third World
What the fuck they can fucking do.
It'd be fun to watch Mel Gibson's ass
Get whipped by the Jews.

I'm tired of my own ass
Singing this fucking song.
There's a lot of people's ass I'm tired of
But the list is too fucking long.

And I could be wrong
I could be wrong.

An Open Letter Regarding Our Weather

Dear Former Vice President Gore:

Where the hell is my global warming? It's April for god's sake!

Apparently it's not so warm that it melted all the ice cream you've been eating.

Sincerely,

t2ed

P.S. Sorry about the fat joke. Don't take it personally as you're supposed to be jolly.

Caught With His Legal Briefs Down

Here at the ex-law offices, I don't often comment upon ongoing litigation because it's typically pretty boring stuff. Rarely were the cases I worked on ever wrapped up neatly in 44 minutes of drama like they were on tv.

But it is being reported that Rip Torn has requested a trial for his Driving While Intoxicated charge stemming from an accident in December when the Ol' Ripster hit a tractor trailer.

While I never prosecuted cases (I fight against The Man not for him), it doesn't look like this case would be that tough to win.

"Your honor, I'd like to introduce Exhibit A. This is a photograph taken of the Defendant after the incident. Prosecution rests."

If a picture is worth a thousand words, those words are all synonyms for "fucked up."

The Communists Have Won

Be afraid, be very afraid.

I've previously reported about the genius of Tim Bedore and the Animal Conspiracy.

Well the squirrels have gotten a promotion. They're no longer just providing reconnaissance.

They've been upgraded to field work. And they're communists (enjoy that video goodness). That's right, squirrels are now stealing American flags!

Why are we the target for animal ire? That's easy--they hate us. We've hunted them, penned them, polluted their homes and even dined on them. They're all against us. Remember that the next time you have to swerve your car while doing 75 to avoid hitting a deer. That was the animal equivalent of a drive by, my friend.

Be wary of all animals. Except the dogs who, just like the British, will always be on our side. As long as the food holds out anyway.

Halle is a Potty Mouth

The dirtiest quote of the week goes to Ms. Halle Berry:

When asked about how excited she was to get a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, she replied:

"I can't tell you how good it makes my insides feel. I wish you could be inside right now and you would actually know how good it feels."

Halle, you've just said what every 13 year old boy in America was already thinking. Especially the ones who have seen Catwoman on cable. Because no one saw it in the theater.

Is Halle's quote from the lyrics of Sheena Easton's tour de force, Sugar Walls? If it's not, it should be.

Don't get too gushy though, Halle. Even Ryan Seacrest (known professionally as "The Tool") has one of them there stars.

Cocoa Crazy

I'm really disappointed I didn't think of this first.

Cosimo Cavallaro made a a life-size sculpture of a naked Jesus entitled "My Sweet Lord" out of chocolate. Now this may come as a shock, but a chocolate Jesus during Easter week didn't go over well with some folks. That's right, I'm talking about the all powerful Chocolate Lobby.

I don't know if you can tell from that picture over there, but there's no loincloth. Yep, Sweet Baby Jebus is all growed up and anatomically correct. No that isn't a Mounds bar. Wow, and I used to feel guilty when I bit the ears off a chocolate bunny.

Someone should also alert security that if there is a chocolate phallus on display they can plan on a visit from my pal Lindsay.

The statue was going to be exhibited for two hours every day this week at the Roger Smith Hotel in New York City. But thanks to the pull of the Chocolatiers, the exhibit has already been cancelled.

I'm not too disappointed though. I've got this great idea for a Virgin Mary statue made out of marshmellows. I'm calling it Peep Unplucked. But I really need to apply for a grant from the Institute for Peep Research to get this thing off the ground.

Remember kids, it's all about the art. It's not about cheap publicity and getting stupid bloggers to write about it. What? Oh, then nevermind.

Dressed for Success?

Lapeer, Michigan student, Caroline Bodell is no sucker. She made an entire dress out of Dum Dum wrappers. She sounds like she's got a lot on the stick. But then I just eat up stories like this.

I hope her date likes grape. I'd have gone for rootbeer myself.

Recycling like that can't be licked. Hope she doesn't get caught in the rain or she'll be in a sticky situation.

But instead of going with a Bravura and completing the entire ensemble d'garbage, she even made her own purse out of Dum Dum wrappers.

Boy with that many wrappers, she'll probably even be able to get that swell backpack.

The Dum Dum Corporation (they're no idiots) has said that they'll put the dress on display at their headquarters in Bryan, Ohio. Spokesman Durwin Bumble for the Dum Dum Candy Company when asked about the dress display said, "Doi, I like candy. Candy is real good."

Yes, you can get tours at the Spangler Candy Company. Mmmm, a candy company. That doesn't suck.

Okay, I'll shut up now.

More True Dog Tales

I'm an unsupervised bear this weekend as Wife is at the Spa with her girlfriends. So I have The Hound to watch full time.

While he contemplates whether he'll ever get a job and why we're poisoning all his puppy pals, he suggests that I just feed him steak sandwiches while we wait for this whole pet food scare to blow over.

Our first tale comes from this morning when I was trying to go the bathroom. As I did my business without exclamations of "Good Boy" or "Potty Time," a wet black nose inched the bathroom door open. Soon I was looking at some hazel eyes looking back at me with interest.

"This is only fair," I said to Guiness the Wonder Dog. "After all, I've been watching you poop for three weeks."

Apparently, Guiness didn't think it was that funny as he just stared back at me.

Our second tale just happened. I had dropped The Hound at Pets Rule Your Life. He was getting groomed as he was smelling a bit doggy and his dreads were looking a bit unkempt.

They called to let me know that "Genius" was ready to be picked up. Who would name their dog Genius? We're talking about an animal that greets others of his species with a hearty anal sniff and would willingly spend the entire day licking himself. Yup, sounds like a genius to me. Maybe I'll start calling that store PetNotSoSmart.

In any event, Guinness the Wonder Dog is bathed and groomed and puffy. They even put one of those queer bandanas on him. I'll leave it on for Wife, but all the other dogs are going to make fun of him.

This is his cheesecake pose by the way. You can just see the lame bandana.

Down girls, he's neutered.

Bag Man

If you're in Spartanburg, South Carolina, you might want to check out the new purses. That's right, Jenifer Steller has created something called the Bravura. It's a purse made out of a recycled bra.

Now I've known women who occasionally tucked a buck there, but never used their whole bra for a bag.

Don't loan your Bravura to your husband. He'll never be able to get it open.

Now I couldn't find a slogan for the Bravura anywhere. So of course, I took it upon myself to make up a few:

• Snuggle up with our bags
• Show off your Bravuras
• Gravity defying bags
• Let your Bravuras free
• Don't let anyone else hold your Bravura
• The best support purse ever
• Bravura lifts and separates
• The other fun bag
• Bravura is beautiful
• The clasp is in the front
• The second base bag
• No one will snatch this purse
• Recycle, Restrain, Rejoice
• Don't let your Grandma's Bravura drag on the ground

Feel free to play along at home, kids.

Hot Chicks

Gary Baja has a problem. It's his restaurant. He can't find a name for it.

Gary owns a chicken restaurant that's been through 4 names in just three years. He started with Mother Cluckers. Shut yo mouth. Hey, I'm just talking 'bout Gary.

His landlord thought that was a little racy. So Gary switched to C.R. Smokin' Chicks. Too bad people thought it was a strip club. A strip club where all the dancers smell like chicken? That'd make a bunch of money in this state.

So Gary got rid of the C.R. and just went with Smokin' Chix. Which was fine until he got sued by a Missouri restaurant with the same name.

Then Gary added ribs to the menu and renamed it Smokin' Ribs and Chicks. Unfortunately, the trademark office turned down the name because it too close to another Missouri restaurant.

So now Gary is a man without a name. Well you now we swell interweb types can't put up with that. So here you go, Gary. This is what scheduled spontaneous creativity will do for you.

• Tastes Like Rattlesnake
• The Breading Beneath My Wings
• Hot Thighs Check Them and See
• Southern Fried Chicks
• Finger Lickin' Chicks
• Chix Marks the Spot
• Nibblelicious
• Sir Clucks a Lot
• Suicide Chix
• Chick 'N Jive
• Not Cleavacious Breasts
• Mason Dixie Chicks
• Poultry Pantry
• Wings and Things
• Fry Like An Eagle

Okay, I'll shut up now.

Gotta Keep Em Separated

When did the guy from The Crying Game have time to record all those songs?

I don't see it.

He has a lot more delicate features than she does.

Separated At Birth

I'm amazed how well that guy from The Crying Game has been playing in the NCAA tournament.

He didn't seem to have those kind of mad athletic skills in Stargate.

About Damn Time

It's good to see that a true hero is finally getting the respect she deserves. Yes, Samantha Fox is getting a life size statue in Cacak, Sarajevo.

And you'd better buy something from her web site. Because it doesn't look like that poor girl has enough money to afford a shirt in most of her pictures.

And even though "life sized" is only 5'1" for the divine Ms. Fox, I'm sure her likeness will be quite striking.

As one fan put it:

"We are also aware that her most famous attributes may require special treatment, so we are planning on using the best quality marble only."

Hmmm, what's the best kind of marble to capture clumsy dancing? There's a reason there was a garbage can featured so prominently in that video.

I kid, Sam, I kid. Because I care.

Unfortunately, the big story doesn't say what the plaque on the statue is going to read. So let me suggest the following:

• Do Ya, Do Ya (Wanna Sculpt Me)
• Naughty Girls Need Marble Too
• All About the Music
• I Can't Get No (Exploitation)
• I Only Wanna Be Photographed By You
• Sculpt Me, Sculpt Me (But the Pants Stay On)
• I Surrender (to the Pigeons)
• Nothings Gonna Sculpt Me Now

Okay, I can't take any more of this. This music is making me queasy.

Feel free to play along at home kids.

With Apologies to Warren Zevon

If you're in Fond du Lac, Wisconsin, watch yourself. They've got a werewolf there. Werewolf? There, wolf. Okay, it's actually someone who claims he is a werewolf after he broke into a woman's apartment.

If you don't believe in werewolves, just ask Dwight Schrute. Dwight says, "I shot a werewolf once. But by the time I got to him, he had changed back into my neighbor's dog."

A woman in Fond du Lac (where fondue was actually invented) called police at 3:00 am to report a man breaking into her house. Why do these things always happen then at 3:00 am? Because that's when the bars close.

The man actually broke through the deadbolt on the door. Sure, he's got the strength of 10 men as a werewolf.

Two men in the house grabbed the alleged werewolf and stopped him until the police arrived. Those guys must have been armed with silver bullets or something. I wonder if the werewolf just wanted to hop up on the couch?

As a public service announcement, if a werewolf tries to enter your home, roll up a newspaper and firmly say, "No" in a steady voice. Do not raise your voice. A high pitched tone will only excite the werewolf and perhaps cause him to mark his territory. And you won't have a plastic bag on hand big enough to pick that up.

If the werewolf was really smart, he'd have just transmogrified and pretended to be the lady's dog when the cops got there. Did the cops take him to jail or to the pound?

The man had been drinking heavily (what a surprise) and was eventually charged with criminal trespassing, criminal damage to property, disorderly conduct and possession of marijuana. Who saw that coming? There's nothing worse than a werewolf with the munchies. Hide all the Snausages.

Oh, and he wasn't on a leash and wasn't wearing his tags.

Happy Friday, kids. Try not to let any werewolves bite you this weekend. Even if she does look like Christina Ricci.

Best Dog Joke Ever

Guinness the Wonder Dog says, "Hi." Oh, and he wants a steak sandwich.

He's so smart that he learned to shake in just one day. In fact, he's such a quick study that he doesn't even wait for you to say "shake." He just puts his paw on you to signal that he's ready for more food.

But he did tell me this really great dog joke:

A guy was looking at the classified ads in Florida and saw a ad that says "Talking Dog $20." So he goes to the house listed in the ad and asks the owner what the deal was with the talking dog. The owner said he was in the back bedroom.

Sitting on a bed with a tv remote in hand, the dog looks up and says, "Hey, how you doing?"

The guy is flabbergasted, "You're really a talking dog! What heck are you doing here in Florida?"
"Well," the dog says, "let me tell you."

"I was at Ground Zero on 9/11 and helped save people who were buried in the debris. Then I was in the Gulf War for a while bringing medicine to injured soldiers. Then I helped sniff for terrorist bombs at the JFK. Then I was on Broadway in Riverdance. Then I helped patrol the border and sniff out drug runners before my partner got shot. It all just got to be too much. So I retired down here."

The guy goes out into the other room and says, "This is amazing. How can you sell a dog like that for only twenty dollars?"

The owner replies loud enough for the dog in the other room to hear, "Cause he's a BIG LIAR!"

Yeah, I thought a joke telling dog was amazing too. But he stole that joke from Rob Haney.

Erin go braughless

Happy St. Paddy's, kids. I don't know what's put me on such a lyrical drinking bent, but here's another one that never fails to make me smile.

This is from the crazy hep cats of DaVinci's Notebook and is called "Another Irish Drinking Song." If you want to hear it in all it's four part harmonious glory, try the link here. Oh, and Enormous Penis is there as well which is so good it can't even be played on the radio now.

Another Irish Drinking Song


Gather 'round, ye lads and lasses, set ye for a while,
And harken to me mournful tale about the Emerald Isle.
Let's all raise our glasses high to friends and family gone
And lift our voices in another Irish drinking song.

Consumption took me mother and me father got the pox.
Me brother drank the whiskey 'til he wound up in a box.
My other brother in the Troubles met with his demise.
My sister has forever closed her smiling Irish eyes.

Now everybody's died.
So until our tears are dried,
We'll drink and drink and drink and drink,
And then we'll drink some more.
We'll dance and sing and fight
Until the early morning light.
Then we'll throw up, pass out, wake up,
And then go drinking once again.

Kenny was killed in Kilkenny and Claire, she died in Clare.
Tip from Tipperary died out in the Derry air.
Shannon jumped into the River Shannon back in June
Ernie fell into the Erne, and Tom is in the tomb.

"Cleanliness is godliness" me Uncle Pat would sing.
He broke his neck a'slippin' on a bar of Irish Spring.
O'Grady, he was 80 though his bride was just a pup,
He died upon the honeymoon when she got his Irish up.

Now everybody's died.
So until our tears are dried,
We'll drink and drink and drink and drink,
and then we'll drink some more.
We'll dance and sing and fight
Until the early morning light
Then we'll throw up, pass out, wake up,
And then go drinking once again.

Joe Murphy fought with Reilly near the cliffs of old Doneen.
He took out his shillelagh and he stabbed him in the spleen.
Crazy Uncle Mike believed he was a leprechaun.
In fact he's just a leper and his arms and legs are gone.

When Timmy Johnson broke his neck it was a cryin' shame.
He wasn't really Irish, but he went to Notre Dame.
McNamara crossed the street and by a bus was hit
But he was just a Scotsman, so no one gave a shit.

Now everybody's died.
So until our tears are dried,
We'll drink and drink and drink and drink,
And then we'll drink some more.
We'll dance and sing and fight
Until the early morning light.
Then we'll throw up, pass out, wake up,
And then go drinking once again,

Me drunken Uncle Brendan tried to drive home from the bar.
The road rose up to meet him when he fell out of his car.
Irony was what befell my great-grand Uncle Sam.
He choked upon the very last potato in the land.

Conor lived in Ulster town, he used to smuggle arms.
Until the British kjilled him and cut off his lucky charms.
And dear old Father Flanagan, who left the lord's employ,
Drunk on sacramental wine, beneath the altar boy.

Now everybody's died.
So until our tears are dried,
We'll drink and drink and drink and drink,
and then we'll drink some more.
We'll dance and sing and fight
Until the early morning light.
Then we'll throw up, pass out, wake up,
And then go drinking once again.

Someday soon I'll leave this world of pain and toil and sin.
The Lord will take me by the hand to join all of me kin.
Me only wish is when the Savior comes for me and you,
He kills the cast of Riverdance, and Michael Flatley too.

Wife and I will probably just have a Guinness. Well, another Guinness, watch The Matchmaker and hope for a win from the Good Guys in Green.

Beware the Ides of March

As both Hoop Hysteria and St. Patrick's Day (what I like to call Amateur's Night) is descending upon us, I wanted to remind us of the dangerous of the season. In Shakespeare's Julius Caesar, the Soothsayer warns Julie-baby to Beware the Ides of March. Essentially, don't go out on the 15th of March or you'll get a stabbing.

So in that vein, I present the genius of Pat Dailey who warns of the perils of imbibing in his classic Out Drinkin'.

You should have seen me last night
When I fell down laughing
And I stumbled down a flight
Of metal stairs.

I went crashing through the window
At the VFW hall
Tumbled over a pile
Of metal chairs.

Then I cussed out my girlfriend
Tried to feel up her Mom
I wrecked my car
I think I bruised my spine

Oh, you ought to go with me
When I go out drinkin'
Always have myself
A real good time.

I got drunk and stole this boat
Out of the Edgewater Yacht Club
Doing 90 miles an hour
Up to the Bay

I sank her out by Buckeye Point
Walked on into town
Tore up someone's flowers
On my way

Then I barged into the Crew's Nest
And I threw up on the rug
I slapped that hostess
On her big behind

Oh, you ought to go with me
When I go out drinkin'
Always have myself
A real good time

I talk dirty to the waitress
And I never ever leave her no tip
Leave her all my roaches
In the guacamole dip

Oh you ought to go with me
When I go out drinking
Always have myself
A real good time

So I'm going out tonight
And I'm gonna tie on a good one
Does anybody here
Want to go out drinking with me?

Well I'll take you to this biker bar
Where we can kick some ass
And a gay bar
We'll get our drinks for free

We'll do shooters of tequila
And a case of beer a piece
We'll wash it down with a gallon
Of cheap island wine.

Oh you ought to go with me
When I go out drinkin'
Always have myself
A real good time

I like to shout out loud
And moon the crown
When I'm dancing
on the bar

Then go out in
The parking lot
And piss on
All the cars

Oh you ought to go with me
When I go out drinkin'
I always have myself
A real good time

Oh you ought to go with me
When I go out drinkin'
Give me that wine
Always have myself
I'm feeling pretty fine
Always have myself
A real good time.

And They Called It Puppy Love

I didn't want to write about this before because I didn't want to jinx it. We've been expecting for a while, but you never know what can go wrong.

That's the BIG SWEETIE (insert dog voice here) Guinness the Wonder Dog, a 40 lb, 4 month old, Australian Labradoodle. I remember when they were just called mutts. He should top out around 90 pounds so I plan to start riding him to work in a few weeks. He's currently sleeping a few feet away but sends his regards.

Now I initially resisted the acquisition of a dependent because it's all I can do to make the drycleaners and the bank in a single day. I'd have been a shitty pioneer.

I figure, I don't currently have to pick up poop in a given day. So any poop that is introduced into our relationship is the Wife's responsibility. And Guinness is so smart, he's already made Wife learn a new trick: "poop picking up."

We've been to one dog training class where Guinness is clearly the valedictorian. Of course we had a chihauhau that just shook the whole class, a chocolate lab that tried to chew everything and a poodle with a serious bipolar disorder. It's kind of like being the Grand Marshall of the Dork Parade.

I really can't believe this guy is a puppy. He may be the reincarnation of Bob Marley. He's really mellow and always hungry. Sounds like a Rasta Man to me. Irie, mon.

Any tips for teaching him how to drive or go fetch a six pack from the store will be appreciated.

The Brady Bunch

Dear Tom:

It's being alleged you've impregnanted another supermodel. First it was Bridget Moynahan, now it's Giselle Bundchen.

Who do you think you are, an NBA player?

Seriously, Tom. It's the 21st century. I figured you'd be a little more careful "protecting the quarterback" in this day and age. Running a fly pattern to go deep down field apparently isn't the only work out you've been getting lately. You've been splitting way more than just defenses.

If you're frustrated about losing to another quarterback with a laser, rocket arm, you shouldn't work off your anger with unprotected sex. Otherwise your "backup quarterback" is going to shrivel up and fall off.

I know you went to Michigan and not USC, but you might want to think about becoming a Trojan Man. You can't run that naked bootleg play too many times and expect to get away with it.

This wasn't the first time you slipped one into the end zone but it should be your last unplanned one.

Living the Dream, Mickey

While I was being wooed by corporate overlords, I received the following from a friend I know who works for the Walt Disney Company. I wish I knew what the hell I was doing with html beyond just managing projects so I could actually post the image-laden email I received.

Sorry, kids, you'll have to make due with just the text.

And by "dreams," I mean dreaming about being able to afford health insurance and living below the poverty line because the minimum wage is a joke

Email me if you want a forward, because it is freakin' hilarious.....

I Am Disney......

JOB FAIR
March 12 - 148AM - 5PM

Full-time, part-time and seasonal roles are available throughout the Theme Parks, Water Parks, and Resort Hotels including positions with starting pay rates of
$7.35 to $9.36 an hour
Bus Driver
Character Performer
Cook
Cosmetologist
Front Desk/Concierge
Housekeeper
Lifeguard*
Quick Service Restaurant Host
Disney's PhotoPass® Photographer
Disney's Magical Express Luggage Representative & Airport Representative
Interview opportunities may be available for summer positions.

Cast Members receive Theme Park admission and discounts at select dining, merchandise, and recreation locations. Full-time Cast Members may be eligible for medical, dental, and vision coverage, plus paid vacation and sick leave.

Celebrity Scratch & Sniff

A recent discussion about who was the skeeviest looking and smelling celeb is now completely out of hand.

Celebs are always coming out with their own designer scents. For example, Carlos Santana has a perfume that supposedly smells like bergamont, lavender, mandarin, cinnamon bark, apple, maja accord, sandalwood, cypress wood, patchouli, musk , leather, amber, tonka bean and vanilla.

Now I've not personally smelled Carlos up close and personal, but when I saw him at the Pima County Fair with 5,000 screaming fans crammed into a tent in the Arizona heat, it decidedly did not smell of tonka bean.

So I thought I'd go down to the t2ed labs and do my best to come up with some fragrances for them.

Feel free to play along at home kids.

Tom Cruise: coconut oil and poop
Paris Hilton: money and "man juice"
Jude Law: cigarettes, fog and halitosis
Rosie O'Donnell: Old Spice and jock itch
Donald Trump: money and insecurity
Lindsay HoHan: Rum, french fries and lube
Jay Leno: Motor oil & over-achievement
Heather Mills McCartney: Nikes and Nair
Charlie Sheen: Denise Richards and strippers
Ryan Seacrest: Clay Aikin
Clay Aikin: Simon Cowell and latex
Howard K. Stern: Anna Nicole and ticks
Tom Sizemore: tears, meth and flop
Joan Rivers: death
Peter O'Toole: scotch
Michael Jordan: b.o. and bratwurst
Matthew McConaughey: weed, bongo oil and b.o.
Will Farrell: caramel corn
Colin Ferrell: tuna, cigarettes and b.o.
Beyonce: activator and rubber cement

Feel free to offer a challenge as well.

The lab is in full scale production mode right now.

Throwing My Beret In the Mix

If you haven't heard, some crazy cat broke into Mary Tyler Moore's house in Minneapolis, MN over the weekend.

Okay, it wasn't really Mary's house, but it was the house that was always used for the exterior shot during the credits on her old show.

Police found the 24 year old man asleep with the television on. No word on whether he was watching Nick at Night.

I'll bet Lou Grant would have kicked his ass if he'd have found the scofflaw in Mary's bedroom.

Now if you've been reading this site for more than five minutes, you know I wouldn't go this far without a goofy list. Thanks for playing along kids.

Here are the reasons the burglar broke into Mary's house:

• Didn't break in, Phyllis let him in
• Was invited to one of Mary's great parties
• Wanted to see if she could actually turn the world on with her smile
• His beret landed on the roof
• Photo trip gone awry
• Just trying to sublet 119 N. Weatherly
• Met Rhoda at a bar
• Heard that love was all around (track 15)
• Bad directions from Ted

I can't help it. The phrase "A little song, a little dance, a little seltzer down the pants" still makes me smile to this day.

Man, I miss Chuckles the Clown.

Killing Me Softy With His Song

Because the weather currently sux (check local listings), I’ve been tending to delay the inevitable slog to my appointed toil with a swell hot breakfast. This isn't just any kind of shitty weather. Yesterday we had snow, freezing rain, sleet, then snow again. I fully expect a rain of frogs any moment. It's practically biblical.

Okay, the breakfast isn't so swell but at least it with rich, bacony goodness. You know, bacon—the food that is so good that they wrap other food in it. (Thank you, Jim Gaffigan). Like we’d be eating melon balls or water chestnuts without bacon.

I was unaware, however, that swine were endangered in this country. Apparently there’s a pig shortage because restaurants will only give you two pieces of bacon at a time. We're on rations. Maybe because otherwise we’d eat bacon until we exploded. Or just our hearts.

Anyhoo, while I was masticating in public (that only sounds dirty), I was dumbstruck and in awe at the musical goodness they were piping into Slob Evans. Now I don't normally even notice the music in restaurants unless it's really good or really bad. I'm usually too preoccupied trying to read and not eavesdrop on the conversations going on around me. But if you're going to loudly ask your friend whether or not you should be faking your orgasms, you can't act snippy when I snort Diet Coke through my nose. Especially if a guy is asking the question.

So while I'm trying not to eavesdrop, I suddenly notice that whomever selects the music that gets piped in, has got his 80's freak on early in this morning. The mystery dj hits me with:

• Betty Davis Eyes (Kim Carnes)
• Jesse's Girl (Rick Springfield)
• The One that You Love (Air Supply)
• The Tide is High (Blondie)
• Let's Get Physical (Olivia Newton John)

These are not crappy muzak remakes. It's the actual songs, my friends. Yes, the dulcet tones of Kim Carnes is a great way to wake up.

Even other diners perked up at the string of crap we had been subjected to. Though only one elderly woman was noticeably seat dancing to Physical.

Yes, I was able to keep my breakfast down..... just barely. Next time I go for a little early morning dining experience, I'll bring my iPod.

Has anyone else ever been subjected to this kind of abuse while in a restaurant? I'm not talking about the time it was gently suggested by a large man that I depart an establishment so I selected That's Amore 12 times on the juke box on my way out just out of spite.

I mean have you ever had this kind of auditory assault on your senses? Just wondering...

Two Left Feet

They've announced the cast for Dancing with the Nobodies Stars and I'm really amazed to see that it includes the soon-to-be ex Mrs. McCartney, Heather Mills.

ABC (aka shameless corporate hacks) are positioning the participation of Ms. Mills as a dramatic example of the majesty of the human spirit. It seems a lot more mundane than that. They just want to see if someone with her particular...ummm... attribute can still dance. That's tokenism.

I just hope one of the dances everyone is forced to do is the Moonwalk.

In any event, here's some songs I'm guessing you won't be hearing in the upcoming season:

• Born to Run (Bruce Springsteen)
• At the Hop (Danny and the Juniors)
• The Hokey Pokey
• The Stroll (The Diamonds)
• I Ran (Flock of Seagulls)
• Jump Around (House of Pain)
• Legs (ZZ Top)
• Runaway (Bon Jovi)
• One Step Closer (Doobie Brothers)
• Drop Dead Legs (Van Halen)
• Running down a Dream (Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers)
• Jump, Jive and Wail (Louis Prima)
• Hot Legs (Rod Stewart)
• Lean on Me (Ben E. King)
• The Hop (Arrowsmith)
• Walk on the Wild Side (Lou Reed)
• Get a Leg Up (John Mellencamp)
• These Boots Were Made for Walkin' (Nancy Sinatra)
• Come on Eileen (Dexy's Midnight Riders)
• I Get a Kick Out of You (Francis Xavier Sinatra)
• Gimme Three Steps (Lynyrd Skynyrd)
• Boogie Shoes (KC & the Sunshine Band)

All right, I'll shut up now. Yes, I already know I'm going to hell.

Feel free to play along at home, kids.

It's All Academic

Being a heterosexual male, I'm actually not allowed to watch the Academy Awards. Because I am a scofflaw though, I secretly watch the Red Carpet Show so I can mock Ryan Seacrest for being shorter than everyone in Hollyweird and the real show for as long as I can stand it/remain conscious.

Because I play a little drinking game whenever the following occurs:

• Thanking Agent
• Thanking Agent before thanking "Higher Power" (drink twice)
• Obviously intoxicated star
• Gratuitous camera shots of Jack Nicholson
• Consoling the Losers
• Gratuitous camera shots of losers who are not good enough actors to appear non-bitter
• Bad banter between co-presenters
• Crappy singing
• Crappy dancing
• Crappy singing & dancing (drink three times)
• Camera shots of accountants
• Camera shots of ugly dress
• Star who has obviously not bathed today (excluding Ethan Hawke)

Because it's all about the fans. It's not enough that movie stars have the money, the fame, the adoration of millions, the ability to get strangers to have sex with them even in airplane toilets where it's impossible to even stand upright. They need an award to affirm their self worth.

So here are my predictions:

Best Picture: The Queen

Helen Mirren has it in her contract that every time she plays British Royalty, she is required to win an Oscar. Helen Mirren's death grip on Hollywood is so strong that sometimes she wins awards for movies she has not, in fact, actually been in. Besides for some reason Martin Scorsese is not allowed to win an award. He actually stole Oscar's date at the Hollywood High prom and has never been forgiven. And comedies aren't allowed to win so suck on that Little Miss Sunshine.

Best Actor: Peter O'Toole

Peter will win because he got screwed for My Favorite Year when that hack, Ben Kingsley, won for the action adventure prequel Gandhi Goes to Guadalajara. Peter vomits during his speech, tries to start a fight with Peter Finch who has actually been dead for quite some time and acknowledges that he is the father of Dannielynn.

Best Actress: Helen Mirren

Helen's acceptance speech will, however, be disrupted by a drunken Kate Winslett who yells something about "crowning this" while making a obscene gesture at the stage.

Best Supporting Actor: Jackie Earle Haley

In a bit of an upset, Eddie Murphy actually loses to Mr. Haley for The Bad News Bears Go to Japan. And while Alan Arkin is inconsolable after the loss, he is momentarily consoled when Mark Wahlberg unexpectedly shoots Eddie Murphy at the very end of the ceremonies in a plot twist that no one saw coming.

Best Supporting Actress: Abigail Breslin

Jennifer Hudson will have to be tasered when Abigail Breslin wins. Presenter Simon Cowell is heard to utter "Eat It" during the Awards live feed.

Best Director: Helen Mirren

A not so unexpected upset when Alejando Gonzalez Inarritu and Paul Greenglass manage to somehow split the vote for Movies Which No One Has Actually Seen. Clint Eastwood and Martin Scorcese are both hospitalized following a green room duel instigated by accusations of tainted potato salad.

Hoop Dreams

As the last, final, we-give-up-already kid in my family, there's not many photographic recollections of my existence. Oh sure, there's lots of stuff from the oldest daughter who predates me by 18 years. Mom and Pop have stacks of scrap books with her baby teeth and pictures of her first steps and popsicle art from Camp Y Noah (where we would be packed off to every summer so the parents could have "some peace and quiet goddamit.")

There is a gradual decline in the intervening flotsam and jetsam of the two older brothers until finally there's just a battered shoe box from the Johnson administration that contains the momentous events (such as they were) of my kiddom.

So it's with great pride that I present the following swell snapshot from my past. Yup, that's the old man coaching/yelling and apparently posing for a JC Penney's catalog with my basketball team. Fifth Graders to the one of us with the meanest illegal zone defense that league ever saw. We had double screens, out of bounds plays and every other pick up, street ball way to cheat the old man had ever learned the hard way.

Yes, that's me with the bad bowl cut, untucked t-shirt and red Chuck Taylors. Yup, a rebel even back then. I don't roll to no league dress code. Thank goodness the socks aren't pulled up any higher. And those sideburns show that we're locked in the depths of the 70's.

Yup, a "Coaches kid." Just like having your own little field general on the floor: calling out defensive switches, knowing when to take time out, hitting all the free throw shots, setting illegal screens, passing the ball out of bounds frequently from watching too many Magic Johnson highlights. Although back then it was probably Jerry West.

Of course I'm not paying attention. Why? I'm going to shoot as soon as I get the rock. That's "the ball" for you kids who aren't hep to the street lingo of the basketball scene.

No idea who that hanger on in the Mickey Mouse tee is by the way. Probably someone's little bother.

It would be about six more years before reality set in that I was going to be too slow and too small and too bad to do this professionally.

This Just In

I don't know if you've heard, but Anna Nicole Smith is still dead!

Seriously, I don't know why there's such a conspiracy. The media just won't cover this topic. I can't take it anymore. I can't never hardly not turn on a tv and not find any coverage at all about Anna Nicole and her alleged death. Pacifically, I need to know:

• everyone she slept with
• what was in her suitcase at the Seminole Hard Rock Hotel
• did her death room at the Hard Rock Hotel really include an orange corduroy couch, a mini-bar stocked with lubricant and glow-in-the-dark condoms, and a leopard-print ironing board
• can I get that room on Friday
• why she dresses as a clown
• what is her baby's blood type
• what is her baby's daddy's blood type
• why did the Kennedy administration order her killed
• where did she want to be buried
• was she ever sober on camera
• was she really that dumb
• what was her favorite ice cream
• did she reject the name Whitetrashina for her daughter
• is stripping really the best way to meet wealthy, elderly men
• how hard is it to force yourself to have sex with wealthy, elderly men
• what was her stripper name
• how much weight did she lose

I have to know why the media won't cover this story.

And I know she had weight trouble in the past, but when I heard the court was having hearings on her remains, that hardly seemed respectful. She might have gained some of that weight back, but surely she wasn't big enough to hold court on her. I know they don't know what to do with her body, but using it hold the hearing on doesn't seem very nice. Sure that nice Bahamian minister wanted to hug her and apparently prospective, alleged fathers certainly had plenty of access, but having court cases on her doesn't seem right.

What? Oh, nevermind then.

I gotta go rent Naked Gun 33 1/3 and look for clues.

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

Dear Brit:

Hey, B. Thanks for your last email and the picture. I don't care if you are so proud that the curtains match the carpet now, you've got to keep wearing your underwear. When I said you need to go to one of those chi chi McRehab spots, I meant for more than one day.

Seriously, you need to get over this. We're never going to go out again. I'm happily married now and will never come back to dance for you. Just because I said Persis Khambatta, Demi and Natalie Portman looked good with the smooth look, you shouldn't have shaved your head.

If you were a little more discriminating about who you let into the velvet valley, you wouldn't have lice in the first place. When you're hanging out with Paris and you're the slutty one, you've got trouble. If you're picking up her cast offs, you've got to expect you'll eventually catch something.

Why didn't you just send one of your publicists to get some lice shampoo? No one said you had to run down to Rite Aid yourself. No one would have known. Someone is eventually going to figure out why you shaved when they see all the hair care products in the trash.

Hope you are okay and enjoy the Yul look.

Love,

t2ed

All Lindsay, All the Time

T2ed:

Happy Blated Valentime's Day! Thanks you so much for the choclates you sent. No one but me knew they were rum inside. I was able to get a real good buzz going thanks to u. Dina was pissed. HA. Can't beleive she showed up with a bunch of popparazzi with her. Bitch.

I kept sexting (sending sexy text messages) on u but u never answered me. I got so despirit that I started sexting Brody Jenner. Don't be jellus, he's just on the right coast. I couldn't get him to give me any McDonald or love either. I just wanted to fuck and have a Big Macc. Not rilly in that order. HA.

Paris and I hung out at Les Doo on Saturday. Everyone wanted my picchter which was kinda hard because my heels were making it really hard to stand up and keep my eyes open and not slur. Paris is sucha good kisser but too skinny.

The movie I filming sux. I thought Hurbie was bad but this is even worst. I know who killed me. My goddamm agent! He should get 10 percent of my foot in his ass.

Well I gotta go. I heard were getting sum fresh meat tonight. Some big boser witha face tattoo. He sounds sexy. Hope he likes girls and likes to party.

Thanks for getting me drunk. Again.

Luv,

LL

Top Ten Least Popular Candy Hearts

Since we're into the home stretch, here's another lil tidbit for ya'll.

The Top Ten Least Popular Candy Hearts:

10. DO YOU LIKE ME OR DO YOU LIKE ME LIKE ME

9. HAIRY BACK

8. WAY NEEDY

7. BE MY INTERN

6. YOU HAD ME AT WASSUP

5. BI-POLAR

4. TASTES LIKE CHICKEN

3. STALKING U

2. U R A DORK

1. I SPEND 12 HOURS A DAY WIRITING THESE STUPID SAYINGS AND SHE WANTS TO TALK ABOUT OUR FEELINGS.

Also, I did find out from the American Film Institute that the three most romantic movies of all time were judged to be Dr. Zhivago, Gone With the Wind and Breakin' 2: Electric Boogaloo.

Be careful with the love hangover, kids.

Cupid is Stupid or There's a reason it's called VD

As the resident Dr. of Love at the National Sarcasm Society (Like We Need Your Support), I often get asked questions about the quaint traditions surrounding Valentine's Day. As far as you know, I get plenty of questions.

So I put our crack research team (a chimp who knows how to use Wikipedia) to dig up these Little Known Facts about Valentine's Day.

• St. Valentine is actually the patron saint of dancing in public, drunk dialing and unrequited love.


• Necco Brand Candy Hearts originally contained the saying "You Had Me At Wassup" and were originally to be used as antacids.


• In most Greek sculpture, Cupid is depicted not only with his trademark bow and arrow but with a felt fedora and a string of sassy ho's.


• An estimated one billion greeting cards globally are exchanged on Valentine's Day. This is second only to National Battery Day.


• If you buy flowers at a gas station, they will smell like diesel.


• The English invented filled chocolate candy in the 1700's with toothpaste was the predominant filling in an effort to improve local dental hygiene.


• In North America the National Association of Foil Producrs invented exhanging cards in elementary school to move more aluminum used to cover all those shoe boxes.


• The only gift for a woman on Valentine's Day is more.


• Because it began as a Roman fertility rite, Valentine's Day sex will definitely result in conception despite any precaution or preventative. Just like being in the band Menudo.


• The first mass-produced Valentine's Day cards were produced in Worcester, Massachusetts by the same woman who invented Worcestershire Sauce, Ms. Lea A. Perrins.


• The Saint Valentine's Day massacre happened because Al Capone's moll told him she had to stay in to wash her hair.

Enjoy the day, kids. Remember, it's only stalking if they decide to press charges. You never know until you ask them to help you move a couch into the back of your windowless van.

Show me your heart light. Or just despair at the inanity.

A Love Letter

I'm coming for you, baby.

And I'm going to take you for as long as I want.

You can't resist me no matter what you do. You're powerless against me. You're mine and I'm going to control you for as long as I want.

You've never had nothing like me. You're going to be worn out, exhausted and weak in the knees.

I'm going to make you ache, shake, grunt and groan. You're going to beg for mercy. But I'm in charge.

I'm going to drain you. You'll beg for my mercy, but it I will be unrelenting. You're actually going to be glad to see me leave.

All my love,

The Flu

Stupor Bowl

Hope everyone had a good time with the game. You should have been able to amaze the crowd with your knowledge of the history of the game. With any luck you won the pool for best commercial. Of course it was Dave and Oprah.

So in honor of the funniest man on tv.

The Top Ten Ways to Tell You're At A Lame Superbowl Party

10) Your halftime show is Prince Charles
9) You're in Miami......of Ohio
8) Someone in a satin shirt asks when the bowling starts
7) All the clam dip is expirationd
6) People keep yelling "Go, Brett, Go"
5) As you're on the way to the restroom, John Madden comes out
4) Joe Namath gets all sloppy and keeps trying to kiss you
3) You discover Lovie Smith got his name because he's a little "handsy"
2) The only wardrobe malfunction is your fat Uncle Earl
1) People keep saying "Next year the Lions will win it all"

Remember, if you're betting on the Pro Bowl, you've got a problem.

Super Duper

I just heard there's some kind of football game this weekend. Have you heard anything about this? I don't know too much about it so can't really pass along that much information.

There's something unique about the coaches, but I'm not sure what. And the teams are from somewhere in the mid-West, but I haven't heard where. Maybe I can pick up some of this information in the "Tostito's, IBM, Monster.com, CBS 17 hours-o' hype brought to you by Chevy and the Rockem Sockem Robot Commercial that must be shown in a continuous loop during all sporting events" Pre-Game Show.

And while it's extremely difficult to find out anything about the game (including where it is this year), I do have some Little Known Facts about the Most Important Football Game Ever in the past versions.

If you're a novice to Super Bowl parties, make sure to loudly share these Little Known Facts at your party this year and you're sure to be a real hit with all your friends!

• Not originally called the Super Bowl, the game was actually called Nancy.
• The losers of Super Bowl I were put to death.
• The cheerleaders at Super Bowl XIX were men.
• The decision to use Roman numerals to reference the game was made because then NFL Commissioner Pete Rozelle was bad at math.
• The National Anthem was not sung until Super Bowl VII. Before then the game began with a stirring rendition of Funkytown.
• Notre Dame won Super Bowl III.
• Teams participating in the Super Bowl are determined by a secret cabal of media and coahces. Just like the Bowl Championship Series.
• More people bet on the commercials in the Super Bowl than the game itself.
• The only television show that has had more viewers than the Super Bowl was Joanie Loves Chachi.
• The team that has won the most Super Bowls is the Detroit Lions with 9.
• Due to his immense popularity, Brett Favre is the starting quarteback for both teams in every Super Bowl.
• The only teams never to win a Super Bowl are the Washington Redskins and the Calgary Roughriders.
• While Peyton Manning is considered one of the best quarterbacks in the NFL, the real athlete of the Manning family is his 7 year old sister Emily. Emily is projected to be the numbr one pick of the Oakland Raiders in April.
• Super Bowl Sunday is the day with the largest incidence of domestic violence in the United States. That's because men won't shut up during the commercials and frequently "sass" on this day.
• John Madden won two Super Bowls while wearing a mansiere.

Enjoy the game, kids. Remember it's not whether you win or lose, it's how many appeteasers you order.

Rehab Diaries

I don't know how she found my email address because we haven't hung out together in years. I'm guessing she's got way too much time on her hands. Here's what she had to say:

T2ed:

What's up my beottch? How r u? U probly know that I'm in Wonderlnd for a bit. I rilly don't need this but my Publicyst tolde me I better go b4 a judge made me. I don't know what the biggy is. Just cuz I wanted a bloody Mary to three after my appendix out everyone threw a big spaz. There's nothing better than a bloody witha vikodann. Mmmmm. It just helps me get a liddle mello.

Because I'm a star I get to cum and goe as I want. I'm still filiming my movie I No Who Killd Me. So I'm have to take media calls on my fone and they won't leaf me alone. Luckily, I still get to goe shopping on Rodea when I'm not filimng. You'd like it here we have gots trainers, akkuupuncture, serfing and sailing and even horseridin. I just got done with a mazzage and hit the juice bar but they wouldn't give me any Belvedears so I had to sneak back to my room to party.

It's pretty cool here because they have all these people in wite coates who have to listen to me talk all the time. Theyre asking lots of silly things like why do I like to party. Duh. I just try to enjoy my mimoza and ramble a bit. It's not like they can tell me to shut the hell up or anything.

It's nothign like when we I did Meen GirlZ because I'm not getting anny sexx at all. Theres nothing but old crusty dudez in this joint. Courtney dropped by and told me to just chill. She's dunn this a couple a times and said it just gets way easy after you learn to tune out a bit.

I just mist Keith Urbin so I was rilly bummd. I don't know his music at all but he's so cute and I'd like to where that cowboy hat and nothing else as I rode him like a cowboy. Hee,

Well I gotta go. Were having a ping pong tournament between the boozzers and the pillheads versus the bulleemiks and the shopahaulics. The gamblers are putting it on and I hope we win all the mac and cheeze from teh dieters. Some guy named Washington is in here for rehab because he told some guy he was a homoe or something. He jsut better stay the hell away from my chef.

I just got my Cosmo sent to me. All these pix make me look really grwn up. Dina is going to have sucha cow. HA!

Luv,

LL

Cognitive Dissonance

It's that time of the year. Yup, Idle Americans is subjecting us to truly awful singers. I have a slight confession to make. I never watched until last year and I only watch the auditions. That's probably because I don't care who wins as I am not a major purchaser of karaoke music. I'll stick with rock and roll, thankyouverymuch.

So I'm always amazed at the outrageous indignation of people who truly suck. Last night I really enjoyed the girl who knew she was tone deaf and couldn't sing and then cried when after she demonstrated she indeed couldn't sing was surprised none of the judges wanted to select her for a singing

competition. The logic seemed to have been that if you select someone who can't sing for this singing competition, you can make it the best signing competition ever.

Now, I don't truly have unfulfilled dreams. (Oh sure, there's that one about me and Maddie Hayes and a case of baby oil, but that's not the point). Let us take, for example, a scenario in which I had decided to quit my job and become a member of the French Lumberjack Competition circuit. I am fairly confident that I know what my friends would do. They would dissuade me from such a course of action.

They would say, "T2ed, you don't speak French. You are not, in fact, a lumberjack. You don't own your own ax. You don't drive a pick up truck. You don't own a big blue ox. And you don't even really care for flannel." Of course this would occur after the peals of laughter had dissipated and they were done kicking me in the ass. In fact, given the size of my town, I'm quite certain complete strangers would come up to me and tell me French Lumberjacking is never going to work out.

So I'm astounded when people who seem supremely confident are quite shitty at what they profess to be aspiring professionals in. (This applies to the Detroit Lions as well by the way).
People who couldn't carry a tune with two handles routinely tell people who have been in the music profession for years (even subtracting the time spent in duets with MC Skat Kat) that they don't know what they're talking about.

Even more sublime are the folks who have just been told they can't sing so their response is to start another song. Hello... is this on? Earth to McFly. I read somewhere that most plane crashes occur because the pilot sees on the instruments that a crash is imminent and instead of making the adjustment that would save the plane, the pilot instead refuses to accept what the instrument says and misses the chance to take corrective action. I think it's the same thing with shitty singers.

So I've got a question. Is there something that you think you're really good at and no one knows about? And have you never demonstrated this talent to anyone else? Is it your secret special skill? Or is your Mom the only one who tells you how good you are at it? Maybe what makes it such a secret special skill is that it's secret. Maybe if it's public, it's not special. Maybe it somehow gets changed and warped and ruined if it's not secret.

Or at least that should be something we tell folks who are waiting in line for the audition.

Either I don't have that kind of outrageous confidence in my special skill that no one knows about and I've never demonstrated publicly or I'm not motarded. Please note that it is completely inappropriate for you to be thinking "Yeah assbag, your secret special skill which should be kept private is your writing!"

Now where's that axe I just bought....

Can You Hear the Kitties Crying?

I'm shocked, shocked I say, to learn that this swell relationship isn't working out.

Yup, Marilyn Manson and Dita Von Teese are splittsville. Who had just over a year in the break up pool? I hope you kept your receipt for those margarita glasses.

That's right ladies, this handsome young, devil may care, freak-about-town, is back on the market! Just ignore those rumors about him dating 19 year old Evan Rachel Wood.

It's probably only a matter of time before Mr. M gets a sports car and hair plugs.

And it's so contentious that they're arguing over spousal support, who will pay for her lawyers and even the kitties.

I hate when Devil Dad and Trash Mommy fight.

As usual the court papers give us nothing and claim the split is just due to irreconcilable differences. I know better. Here are the real reasons, they're breaking up:

• He still scares her every morning without his makeup
• She once yelled out "Alice" during sex
• Fights over the eyeliner
• Her refusal to sleep in his coffin
• Whenever he says, "It's all about the music," she yells "Bullshit" at the top of her lungs
• Endless arguments about who is the pretty one and who is the ugly one
• He still hates the pet name Milky
• She caught him one time, once dammit, trying on one of her corsets and just won't get over it. Geez!
• His family? Crazier than he is.
• She has never forgiven him for making her give up her promising pole dancing career.
• At home he always listens to smooth jazz

What chance do any of us have if these two crazy kids can't make it?

Bad Re-Habits

I wish I could say that I planned this. But you no me better than that. It's just got to be karma, kismet, luck o' the Irish and plain old dumb luck that I heard this right after Lindsay Ho-han (thank you Reigning Frog) took a month off the party circuit.

From the genius that is Heywood Banks:

If you have a
Problem with alcohol,
There are people
That can help you.
And it's the same
With cigarettes and cocaine.

But it's unfortunate
What you're addicted to,
Has no funding for a hotline.
No, there is no
Twelve Step for Stupid.

Stupid has no intervention.
Stupid has no Friend of Bill.
Stupid has no Dumbassaholics Anonymous.
There's no patch to wean an ignoramus.
No Betty Ford for the moronic famous
No, there is no 12 Step for Stupid.

Now if you find yourself
Watching a tv show
That involves dating
Or eating bugs,
You should look at that
As a warning sign.

But if you find yourself
On a tv show
That involves dating
Or eating bugs,
That ends the argument
For intelligent design.

Stupid has no intervention.
Stupid has no Friend of Bill.
Stupid has no Dumbassaholics Anonymous.
There's no patch to wean an ignoramus.
No Betty Ford for the moronic famous
No, there is no 12 Step for Stupid.

Yes, Heywood is the same genius who brought us Big Butter Jesus.

Fully Loaded Indeed

This news comes in from Mr. Obvious.

Hang onto your chairs, kids, but Lindsay Lohan has checked into rehab. Also just in, water is wet and the sun is hot.

And by rehab, we mean being pampered for a month at the Wonderland Center. Let's face it, if you can afford a place to "recuperate" with views of Laurel Canyon and private rooms, you don't really have a problem.

They say that art imitates life. And whomever the marketing genius who named the last Herbie movie "Fully Loaded" is probably getting a bonus right now. That weasel had to have known old LL was going to have to check into somewhere for "exhaustion" and they'd be able to ride that news into another sweet wave of DVD sales for the studio.

According to MSNBC, LL arrived at Wonderland "clutching a Jamba Juice." Ah, one last vodka laced treat, then it's off to the spa. Apparently no one parties like a post appendectomy patient parties.

Best part of the story? The self-contradictory quote:

“I'm not even legal to [drink], so why would I? I don't drink when I go to clubs. I drink with my friends at home, but there's no need to. I feel better not drinking. It's more fun."

Suuuuure you don't drink anymore, Lindsay. And people drink Jager because they like the taste of Nyquil.

No word on whether LL will still want to kick Michelle Trachtenberg's ass after rehab.

Hear Ye, Hear Ye

My friend and I were recently in his car and headed to the store. As we waited for a parking spot, the car in front of us began to back up.

Being alert, he honked his horn.

The car continued to slowly back up. He honked his horn a little longer.

The car loomed closer.

He really layed on the horn for a long time. Think of that asshole honk you hear every now and then. No one in the lot can miss this honking.

Whack. A slight jolt as the car in front of us backed into us.

My buddy got out and walked up to the car. He started to yell, "You dumb son of a bitch! You just backed into me you stupid shit."

I sat in the car as he stomped back to his car and examined the front bumper.

He walked back up to the car which hit us and said between clenched teeth, "You're lucky you didn't do any fucking damage."

He got back in our car as I saw hands gesticulating in the car in front of us. Something about that looked familiar. Comprehension slowly dawned.

"You know you've just been honking and yelling at deaf people," I calmly said. "Hope they're not too good at reading lips. Especially profanity."

Yeah, we got out of there pretty quickly after that.

Doesn't This Suck

I'm sorry I'm late to the party because this wonderful product has been out for a month.

It's the Shoover or vacuum cleaner shoes.

Yeah, those are pretty happenin' aren't they? Weren't those the original Cosmo Kramer's?

I don't know if they're really calling it that or it's just the best made up name in the world, but here are some other suggestions for the fine marketing weasels at Electrolux.

• Dust Buster Browns
• Marc Sucko
• Adidabsorbers
• Doc Maartensuction
• Sucking Air Jordans
• Birkensucks
• The I'm Going to Get You Dirt Suckers
• Dr. Schollshiners
• Grasshoovers
• Steve Maidden
• Candie's Cleaners

Feel free to submit your own, kids.

Actually, this isn't that crazy of an idea. But if they're smart, they'll sell them in sets of four and make them in sizes that fit dogs.

Let My People Go

Charlton Heston's neighbors are suing him because of a mudslide.

Unless he was holding up his arms and a staff when the mudslide happened, I'm not sure how it could be his fault. It was probably an Earthquake.

It's probably going to be very uncomfortable at the neighborhood get togethers when the dish he brings to pass is Soylent Green and he calls his neighbors "Damn dirty apes!"

And I'll bet Chuck tries to resolve the suit by blowing the hill all to hell or challenging the neighbors to a chariot race.

Never pick a fight with the former head of the NRA. He'll bust a semi-automatic cap in your ass.

(and if anyone knows wtf is up with Blogger and inserting random spacing into any post with an image, give me a yell please)

This Just In

I have some disturbing news, kids.

Britney Spears Promises To Be Bigger And Better In 2007

Consider yourself warned.

“I look forward to coming back this year bigger and better than ever, and to also reaching out to my fans on a more personal level. I know I've been far from perfect and the media has had a lot of fun exaggerating my every move..."

Brit, going commando is hardly an exaggeration when your hoo hah pictures are all over the web. And let's face it, when you choose to take a nap in a bar, it's called "passing out" not "exhaustion." Oh, and tell me it's all about the music again.

Marrying an a old friend for a weekend while in Vegas? Marrying a talentless couch monkey who is this generation's Eddie Fischer? Oh yes, just exaggerations by the media.

If you are truly going to "reach out" to me, please keep your hands to yourself.

World Hypmotism Day

It's World Hypnotism Day kids.


You know what that means don't you. You're getting very sleepy. Like most time when you read this blog. Now Sleep!

You will celebrate... you Will celebrate....you WILL CELEBRATE.

Oh, and cluck like a chicken of course. Can't forget that one. It's a classic.

But seriously kids, I was actually hyp-mo-tized (that's the correct pronunciation) once. It was at country fair when I was in high school. Seriously, who could make this stuff up. My buddy Mac and I both went and got picked to be on stage with about 15 other people.

The hypmotist (whose name escapes me but who had one of those really cheesy faux hypmotist voices you've seen in every bad movie) had us fold our hands together and then told us we couldn't get them apart. That one really worked.

But when he told us to SLEEP, it never really worked. In fact a couple of us got the giggles.

He also had me lay down on the stage and said that I couldn't move anything but my head. And when he talked to me, I yelled "I Been Hy Mo Tized." He didn't like that I got a bigger laughs than his weak shtick, so that was the end for me. For the rest of the big show, I just had to sit on a chair and pretend to be asleep.

I always try that SLEEP voice on my friends' kids when they won't shut up. It never works, but I figure it's worth a try. You never know.

A Steely Resolve

All the cool kids are doing it. Of course, I'm talking about making foolish New Year's Resolutions. Which makes no sense at all. I'm mean, we're perfect aren't we? But the most annoying thing about perfection is the other people who think they're perfect and just ruin it for the rest of us, faithful readers.

The way to really do this is to make resolutions for other people. I like to write down some life improvement lessons instructions orders on a 3x5 card and hand them out. People always warmly welcome these helpful instructions so much. So here are my orders for the coming year.

Britney Spears: Wear some underwears, trampy. Or at least a skirt long enough to cover your sausage wallet when you're getting in and out of limos whilst on a bender.

Mel Gibson: Keep your racist pie-hole shut. And cough up for a cab.

Al Sharpton: Don't bring a corpse (no matter how nicely he's dressed) to a concert. And is there anywhere you won't go to be on camera. Learn to say no.

Rose Bowl Majorettes: That wasn't marching in the Rose Bowl Parade, young ladies. That was shaking it as hard as you possibly could. It's not a club, it's a parade. You probably pulled a muscle trying to do that for five and a half miles.

Rosie O'Donnell: Shut the hell up.

Donald Trump: Shut the fuck up.

Madonna: You can't take him back even if you kept the receipt. And stop it with that fake accent. You're from Bay City, poser.

Oprah: It's not charity if you take a camera crew.

Kevin Federline: Just go quietly. It's pathetic really.

Paula Abdul: Do not fill the Coke glass with vodka. And don't take it so personally. You're no MC Skat Cat after all.

Harrison Ford: Let it go, you're not up for a 4th time as Indiana Jones. Just try to stay away from any movie with Josh Hartnett.

Kathy Griffin: I love you. Even your reality show. But Alka Seltzer commercials? Please say no just this one time.

Tom Cruise: See Donald Trump.

Vince Vaughan: Next time you hook up with a soho, tell her not to email the entire sorority. Discretion, baby, discretion.

Feel free to submit your own "instructions for others."