My Haircut

While down home for Christmas last week I went into town and got my hair cut. Now, if I've had my hair cut 75 times in my life, prolly 72 of them were cut by a man. No funny business, buzz buzz buzz on and off the chair in ten minutes. Tho when I was a kid the wait would be about 3 hours - on Saturday morning my dad would drop my brother and I off at Jimmy the Barber's for our haircuts, loudly proclaiming to Jimmy each time "Jimmy, I want them to have BOY haircuts." I don't know what he was scared of; I never once heard of Jimmy pissing off a father in town by giving a kid a beehive or something. Not once did I hear Jimmy look at a young buck and say "I'm gonna cut your hair like Strawberry Shortcake!" Then my brother and I would sit amongst the dozen or so 50 year old farmers in there, reading Reader's Digest while the old codgers shot the shit about tractors and crops and other shit we had no idea what they were talking about. After about three hours of waiting you'd get waved over to the chair by Jimmy (until I went to college I thought his last name was in fact "Thebarber") who would chop it all off in about 17 seconds, all while getting in what was a clinic on small talk "how you boys been playing ball this year how the team lookin saw your daddy rollin over battery the other day yeah he's a good ol boy which one are you, part or no part whatchu say whatchu say bout it boy" BAM! taking off the shower curtain wrapped round your neck, you're outta the chair. I'd wonder what went on over at some girl named Robin's shop, where all my rich friends got their hair cut. Sorry, styled. I'd picture over at Robin's there's a real-life Pizza Hut buffet set up while girls in pajamas would come over and dance along to J. Geil's "Centerfold", wildly applauding each snip of the scissors and spreading all the 5th grade gossip while dancing the watusi and eating baby egg rolls. Meanwhile I'm sitting for three hours listening to Field & Stream come to life during mudbogging season, each old cuss more ornery than the last re: what pussies the military has become, unlike when they were fighting the Japs outfitted with only some shoestring and the knowledge of the difference between right (us/jesus) and wrong (them/slant-eyed jesus.)

My developmental haircut experiences having been so testosterone-heavy, I followed suit everywhere I moved to afterwards, seeking out the most old-school mf I could find. Culminating with my guy in Brooklyn now - been there since 1960 and is prolly the last standing barrier between myself and my paying double digits for a haircut (shudder to think.) Also, a side note: during my haircut career as a kid, Jimmy the Barber got married maybe 76 times. I'm not even kidding, every other fucking time you'd try to go by his shop there'd be a sign on the door "GONE ON HONEYMOON, BACK NEXT WEEK." And what do you know, the next time you'd be there during lunchtime some new woman would breeze in with a bag lunch for him, give him a big sloppy kiss on the lips and leave him beaming. Man. Cap. Doffed.

Anyways, so I found myself going into town and into the Hair Cuttery or whatever the fuck it is, and next thing you know I'm having my scalp rubbed by some woman. Alright I think, no big deal. I tell her what I want and she's relieved cause it bascially let's her turn her brain off for ten minutes while plowing my cephalic fields. So she gets done quick, I'm almost out of the chair, when she turns to me and asks me something I've never heard anyone ask me before:

"Trim the eyebrows?"

Whhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaattt???!!!!!! I clenched up as if I had dropped the soap in Clay Aiken Shower Camp - trim eyebrows? What the fuck? Now, no one's more of a pussy liberal bleeding heart pansy than me, but trimming my eyebrows, I'm sorry, I'm not fucking ready to go there just yet. She might as well have asked me to run through town screaming "I love my dead gay son!!!" Plus, I didn't know how much extra that would cost - I was already pissed my 6 minute haircut was costing me $12, for all I know trimming eyebrows is another, oh, $34 or some such. What the fuck. So I quickly demured and got out of the chair, paid for my haircut and left. And yes, like clockwork I've spent the last 121 hours obsessing "do my eyebrows NEED trimming? whats wrong with my eyebrows? did I completely miss the boat on the eyebrow thing? I got an eyebrow problem?..." thanks Hair Cuttery girl. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!


















"...alright alright, let's see, let's see....whoa! Larry, I gotta tell ya, your eyebrows...she did a great job! Fucking awesome, bro!"

Gravity

Last night for the first time I think it clicked what gravity really is. I stumbled into reading about the ball-on-a-trampoline theory of what gravity is, and it totally made sense to me. Very interesting. Ain't never really thought it out before. Ain't that some shizzity-shizzle.

Life 15,993 Xmastime 0

So last night, after locking myself in my room for days, I decided to give the new specs a test-spin out in public. Yes, I know I’m an adult and shouldn’t be self-conscious about such things but, like lite mayonnaise, it is what it is. So I plan to meet up with Rrthur (yes ladies, THAT Rrthur) at a bar we never frequent – out of the way, different crowd, I know I’ll be able to dip my toes into the waters of the public slowly. So we meet up and head into the bar and…..crap. There she is. An alltime Mrs. Xmastime, sitting there.

LACEY KANE
(friend from Williamsburg)
WEEKS ON THE CHARTS: 176
PROS: smoking hot, and has no idea how hot she is. Legs go on for days. Went to Duke! Crazed football fan, has family ties to the Pittsburgh Steelers AND Joe Paterno!
CONS: smarter than me. Not that I have a problem with that usually, but we’re talking a difference of about 300 IQ points here. There’s a good chance she thinks I’m retarded. Also has a mega-serious boyfriend. And if we ever did hook up, it would coincide with her realizing she’s super-hot, the standard “Librarian Takes off Glasses and Turns into Carmen Elektra” routine, thus leaving me a broke-down mess with nobody but Theodore to comfort me. And you can probably guess how that would go.
ODDS: 95%. I’ve got some new shoes, a new belt and an olive sportcoat. Look for us to be registered at Food Lion.

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!! Scurry back into the mouse hole for another year. Christ. I can’t fucking win.

Tom Effing Brady

I think one way of gauging how ridiculous of a season Tom Brady has had is here's a guy that dumped his actress girlfriend when she was 3 months pregnant, started dating a supermodel, and we haven't reallly heard shit about it since the season started. Now that's impressive. I believe Le Barber said it best a few minutes ago with "Brady's leading Iowa by 9 points."

Hail Taxi...I'm a Fucking Idiot

Is there anything in the world that can make you feel more like a fucking idiot than trying to hail a cab in another city? I mean, in NYC it's easy: big yellow car, lights on in the middle, boom - you can grab it. Every other city, what the fuck...green car, blue car, white with stripes, sometimes a light means it's available, sometimes it's the opposite. How do these people know when a cab's fucking available? Every single one is different. And you look like a fucking retard waving your hand at one, you know every single fucker in town is looking at you "what a fucking idiot...green car, red racing stipe with light flashing? Umm....in use, dumbass!!!"

Bonzo Goes to Bitburg

Who came up with the "Heil Hitler!" salute? Was it Hitler himself? If so, pretty impressive, no? Tries to take over the world, tries to wipe out an entire race of people, and in the meantime had the wherewithal to think "...you know what....I should come up with my own salute..." Seriously, anyone else done that in recent memory? Fairly prolific guy. And that's to say nothing about the fact that he pretty much will OWN that little mustache til the end of time, right? Say what you will about the guy, but can you say you've really made your mark like this guy when the Grim Reaper comes a calling? Salute AND a stache. Man.

Mine Eyes are Seeing the Glory

After many, many, MANY years stumbling around in a haze of blindness I have now joined the ranks of the four-eyed. Yup. I got glasses. The difference, I must say, is stunning....if I knew you fucking people were seeing THIS fucking good I woulda done it years ago. Man. The movie "Bound"? Nobody could tell me about this? Fuck. At my absolute peak, when I considered myself the Michael Jordan of squinters, I was supposing I was at least squinting my left eye down to 20/20. Not even close. And in the brief period I've even had the glasses I've gotten greedy - it's not enough now that my vision is perfect or that, you know, I CAN SEE AT ALL; I find myself trying to see shit like a mile away and getting frustrated that I can't. I don't know what the record for seeing is, but all of a sudden I seem to think I should be The One. Hmm.

I find I'm a little calmer for some reason with the glasses on. Even in my own room - I put them on and I'ma little slower, more deliberate. I wanna be nicer for some reason. Of course I say all this as if normally I'm wrestling a fucking puma inside an oil drum while pumping in Megadeath, but you know what I mean.

Also, maybe I won't walk up and down the street with my head down as much. I've always done this so if someone recognizes me and I don't acknowledge them, they don't think I'm being an asshole - I'm looking down, I didn't see them. I'd love to know how many people have seen me on the street and waved, only to think "what a fucking dick!" after I didn't wave back, even tho I was looking right at them. If I'm gonna be thought of as an asshole I'd rather it be for something like fucking your girl, or stealing money from cats. Not "he didn't see me."

Mostly, I'm shocked I've had them for over 48 hours without breaking them. And I'm still a little obsessed with the before/after comparisons; I'm constantly looking at something without glasses or squinting, then with squinting, then with the glasses on. I gotta get over this - I'm a little giddy, like the day I discovered masturbating. Of course, now I'm sidetracked by the fact that the single most exciting day of my life, the one that to me defines "giddy" is the day I discovered the art of the menage a moi. Perfect.

Xmastime Loves Rachel Ray (mushy sigh)

Can we all just agree to give the fuck up and concede defeat to Rachel Ray? Seriously - after nuclear attack the only things to survive would be cockroaches, Rachel Ray and "CSI: Bomb Shelter", no? There's a whole cottage industry devoted to hating her, be it all the websites dedicated to hating her or Sistatime calling up every evening at 6:05pm to scream at me about how much Ray's chirpiness is driving her insane. Yeah, her peppyness can be grating, but let's face it - there's worse things for a person to be than over-happy. And she's laughing all the way to the bank. And here's a secret, ladies: as much as she looks like a drawfin Peanuts character who could lose a few pounds, odds are she's hotter than you (FHM spread excepted, which I'll never forgive her for.) So you don't even have that over her. Everyone loves to bitch about her, but I find it hard to believe I'm the only person in the world who can stand her - nay, likes her. A lot.

BUT.

This fucking loser husband of hers. Enough. For fuck's sake, every time he gets mentioned they have to throw in that he's a "musician." As in "...and Rachel's husband, lawyer/musician __________" (that's right, I refuse to say his name.) You can picture him popping over her shoulder, making sure they mention his pretend-band. Dude. #1, you will always be known as Rachel Ray's husband. Period. #2, you're a fucking lawyer. You're not some scrappy kid trying to get gas money for his van, you're a 45 year-old LAWYER for fuck's sake. You have a real job, a career. Quit trying to push your band on us everytime the name of Rachel Ray's personal sperm donor has to come up. I'm sure there's a fucking Senator who can do balloon animals at parties, does he insist on being announced as "Senator/balloon puppeteer"? Fuuuuuuuuck!

Halfway to Insanitizey

I'm amused that the hand sanitizer in my bathroom claims that it kills, and I quote, "99.99% of germs." Really? If...if you know there's still .01% out there, why not kill them too? You seem to know the exact amount of germs that are left, so why would you stop there? "But Xmastime," you say in your Ironhead Heyward (RIP) voice from those soap commercials, “it's a kind of disclaimor for any possible lawsuit." I guess in the case of someone dropping dead from using the stuff, their lawyers can step in with "oh sure, well, obviously they got it from the 0.01% of germs we didn't kill, as we clearly stated on the bottle, so..." Then why call it "sanitizer" in the first place? Nothing can be kind of sanitized, can it? It either is 100% or it isn't at all, no? Fucking hand sanitizer. The Ryan Seacrest of the toilette.

Homeward Bound

At home over Christmas this past week I found myself on my high school football field, a field I had not set foot on since the last game I played. I was shocked to realize that it's been exactly 20 YEARS since my first varsity game. 20 years!! If 20 years ago you had told that in 20 years I would still feel so young, I'd think you're crazy. How can I still feel so young in every way, yet a full two decades ago I was playing varsity football? Jesus. There is nothing more unsentimental and unforgiving than time itself. Also, I went to Wal-Mart 65,994 times and not once did I see a face I even remotely recognized. Does everyone think their hometown freezes in time the second they leave, or is it just me?

Attention NYC Subway Panhandlers

If you're gonna ask me for money, please don't be over 300 lbs. It's not that I don't believe that you're homeless,or that life has dealt you a cruel blow and you're in need. But it's tuff to pull off the ol' "I'm starving, please feed me" routine when you look like you devoured the Shoney's buffet and then took a three hour nap. I like my homeless to be gaunt - ie, believable. Camon, get in character for fuck's sake!!

Last Weekend with Paddy Mac

Here's Paddy Mac and his Pop putting together the tricycle I got him for Xmas. While I, apparently, lay out in the back like I'm at a photo shoot. Sexy!



















Here I teach Paddy Mac the greatest lesson of all: if you don't say you're #1, who else will? If you suck?


















"Get the fuck outta my way!!!"


















Ryan installs the 90,000 watt stereo while Paddy Mac contemplates how gay Ryan's sideburns are.



















The Wilson Boys...running long, running hard...with Carlton Banks in the middle, catching a glimpse of my investment portfolio's risk-to-return index. "How does he LIVE like that??!! That's time-preference diversification? Jesus!!"

Fucking Dying

What the Fuck Did We Do Before YouTube?

The Beatles doing Stairway to Heaven, via Andrew Sullivan.

Today's Woman I Wanna Marry

All in the Fambly

I was just watching this episode of All in the Family - in the beginning, George Jefferson was played by a different actor? Not Sherman Hemsley? Really? Had no idea. How bout that.

And WAAAAAAAIT a second...

...wasn't fucking Shilling the jackass who back during the Congressional hearings on steroids played the "whoa whoa, why listen to me, I'm just a goofy clown!" card? This is the same guy? In front of Congress he acts like Shecky the Fucktard Clown caught at the adult table, and now we're supposed to give a shit what he says about the Mitchell Report? FUCK......YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEW!!!!

Is There Even a Word for This?

"Judge admonishes R.Kelly for his lateness"? Really? What the fuck is that for - haven't we been waiting for Kelly to show up in a courtroom for almost four years now? Child porn we can wait on, but now the judge might come down on him cause he's a little bit late after all this time? Really? This is like a mother letting me fist her kid but being pissed at me dragging mud in on her floors, isn't it?

Today's "Wow, There's No WAY They'd Get Away with This in Today's PC World" TV Moment

The White Shadow. A new freshman (Haywood Nelson - Dwayne from What's Happenin!!!) is telling Coach Reeves his mother won't let him play basketball, cause he might get hurt. To whit from Coach:

"Come on, you could get hurt doing anything! You could get hurt on a ladder, or on a bus...or eating chicken! Your mother let's you eat chicken, doesn't she?"




"No no, it's cool man. I've got a black friend!"

Nimrod Nation

I watched all eight episodes of Nimrod Nation, the documentary set in Watersmeet, Michigan which centers itself around the local high school basketball team. Hoosiers in the snow, if you will. And you know me – high school drama + basketball + snow, I’m watching.

Unfortunately, pretty much nothing fucking happens the whole time. Nothing. I don’t wanna stereotype these earnest Midwesterners as boring, but fucking hell. Unreal. Apparently it's watch the snow pile up, gain 400 lbs, die.

I mean, these are some boring motherfuckers. I hate to stereotype, but this Midwestern stoicism does not make for great theater. Can any two dudes talk about anything besides how cold it is?

“Boy. Cold out here.”
“Yup.”
(frozen tumbleweed)

I mean, I’m not expecting any Dr. Phil scenes, but camon…and it’s not like they’ve just met – all these dudes have known each other forever. And we know this cause they’re always intro’d that way: “Jeff, Nimrod Class of ‘73” or “Randy, Nimrod Class of ’75.” You’d think they’d be comfortable talking with each other by now. Hey guys, relax…just cause you start talking about something other than the weather doesn’t mean you’re gonna implode into a four-knuckles deep fuckfest in the woods with your buddy. It’s okay. You won’t burst into Charles Nelson Reilly flames, for fuck’s sake.

And another thing about this “great” basketball team and the teams it plays….all fucking white. Well, plus a Native American. It’s tuff to take a team that seriously if they’re all white, isn’t it? There’s nothing intimidating about watching a team full of white guys walk into a gym. Back in the day when I was gunning the rock in the NND, if the other team started a white guy you’d think “boy, he must be the fucking shit.” If they started two, you were like “oh, they’re out of black guys, this team must b l o w.” Any other white guys, you’re looking over at the bench for Gene Hackman for fuck’s sake. And it was such an insular world, time out from games to congratulate 1000 points scorers et al, patting themselves on the back. I’m not saying some of them can’t play, but again, it’s tuff to take a game too seriously a team has fewer black guys than the Dave Matthews Band, isn’t it?

Another clip I like is the repeated one where 2 or 3 guys go skeet shooting. Birdee goes up…three guns go off, thing explodes. How do these idiots know which one hit it?

And hey, we get it: it’s cold. I can go longer than 15 seconds without having to be reminded, be it with a still frame shot of the snow or the local radio station “joshing” that “oooh, it’ll be up to 5 degrees today, a heat wave!” It’s cold. I fucking get it.

I Only Wanna Be with Jew

Last night while flipping around I landed on VH1's "Best 100 Songs of the 90s" or whatever, and Hootie and the Blowfish were on. In a show of protest over what I feel was an exhorbanant about of backlash back in the day I decided to watch their 2-minute segment. A little support. Made it big, too big, disappeared, still rocking, nice guys etc etc etc. Then as I'm flipping away they cut to a live show, them rocking out. Cough. And there up front is Hootie himself, wearing a Beatles t-shirt. In fact, the tee was the cover of Revolver. All I could do was shake my head dang, dude! We get it - you hate black people!! We get it! Turn it down a notch! jeez.

FINALLY! Some Help for the Rich Guys!!!!

I see there's a new show on Bravo, Millionaire Matchmaker, that shows a matchmaker hooking up extremely wealthy dudes with "the women of their dreams." And I know I've seen commercials for another show with the exact same premise, but I can't recall what it is.

What the fuck is this? Why would we even wanna watch this? "Oh boy, MORE rich guys getting all the girls! Hooraaaaaay, rich guys!!" What's the point of this...I'm sorry, but if you're a millionaire and you can't meet women, then you're a fucking idiot, no? More and more of our fascination with the uber-wealthy; just like with our voting habits we think that if we watch them and applaud we'll become one of them. Pathetic.

Wouldn't a show about poor dudes trying to date be a lot more interesting anyways? Give a guy $20 and a box of Kraft macaroni and cheese to try to have a successful first date squiring a girl? Let me guess what this show will have instead: righ dude flies girl to Paris for lunch and London for dinner. Buys her Delaware. Wow! What a guy! So hard for him, don't you find yourself rooting for the lil guy??!!

Ugh.

He Can Run...Can He Hide?

I see Britney's BFF has disappeared. Hey, maybe Bush can find THIS Osama?

Curt Spilling

So Curt Shilling, maybe my #1 least favorite athlete in the world, has posted a blathering blather blathfest on his blog (which I will NOT link to, fuck him)decreeing that now Clemens should have all his records since 1997 expunged and his Cy Youngs taken away. I guess Curt thinks he might finally get one himself if there's a few floating around out there in some yard sales. Tough talk from Curt here. Tough demands! Good for him! For the kids!

Hey Curt, you know who has no interest in doing anything to Roger? George Mitchell. You know who else has ZERO interest in even slapping Roger on the wrist here? Major League Baseball. Another interesting part of this whole charade that makes me leary.

"Here's a list of players that have completely destroyed the integrity of our precious national pastime! These players are forcing 6 year olds to pump roids into themselves until their hearts explode! Here's all their names!!"

"Wow! Hey, what should we do with these guys? Firing squad? Bamboo shoots under the nails?"

"Oh, nothing. We're just throwing their names out there. Don't even give them a second thought!"

If baseball isn't gonna take it seriously, why should I? And, as I said below, all this slander is pretty much based on the "testimony" of a guy desperate to stay outta prison and another guy who may or may not have raped a girl in a pool. Yet Shilling has ruled!!! What a fucking idiot. Shut the fuck up and get your fat ass in shape so you can get that million dollar bonus next year for getting a single Cy Young vote....you know, one more vote than a fucking olive loaf will get.

Wikipedia

I continue to be amazed by Wikipedia. I was just briefly watching ESPN Classic and it's a Bulls/Knicks game from 1986 and one of the players is a balding dude named Granville Waiters. I was an NBA fan even before then, but I had never ever even heard the name Granville Waiters. Wonder if he has a Wikipedia entry? I mused. Looked it up, bam. He's there. Unreal. I'm at the point where I'm surprised there's not an entry on the tuna fish sammy I just ate.

Everything's Coming Up Xmastime

At about 9:15 this morning The Barber walked into my room and surprised me with a bacon egg & cheese biscuit, hash browns and oj from McDonalds. Now I flip on The View and the guest host is Alicia Keys, who is wearing a tight-fitting silk shirt unbuttoned to her solar plexus. If this day gets any better I may hafta blow my fucking brains out.

Wow. Getting worse.

Unbelievable. The first hour of this awful series "Seven Nights to Rock" just ended with Altamount; the end of the 60s. And unless I missed something there was NOT A SINGLE MENTION of the Beatles. Wow. It was basically 40 minutes of the Stones and 20 minutes of Cream. Which, I believe, is longer than their actual time as a band was. This is so bad I'm forced to watch the second segment, which I see is titled "White Light/White Heat." Hmm. Lemme guess: 10 minutes of Lou Reed, 10 minutes of Floyd and then 40 minutes of fucking Bowie. My cap is doffed. Unreal.

Xmastime...Since 2005

I'm always disappointed whenever I look at a storefront or a company logo and it brags "Since _____" and the year isn't very impressive. Like for instance, "Davies Bros Paint - Since 1999." Really? Wow. 8 years, and you're bragging? I've got popcorn under my bed older than that. Shouldn't there be a rule, like you can't use that unless it's been 50 years or so? If your company has been around longer than equal rights, THEN you can brag about it in your logo.

You're Shitting Me?

I am watching VH1 Classic's "Seven Nights of Rock" at this moment. Am I fucking high...or are these people claiming that the "birth of rock" starts in 1965 with British blues bands, a la the Stones etc? Are you fucking kidding me? 11 minutes in, we're already up to Clapton leaving the Yardbirds. Unfuckingreal.

Writer's Strike? Who Can Tell?

Coupla weeks ago when the writer's strike begain I wondered to myself why did the late night shows hafta shut down? Leno/Letterman/Conan et al - aren't these men supposed to be funny on their own merits anyways? Are you telling me each one of them can't walk out in front of an audience and entertain for an hour? Then I figured well, this must be a loyalty thing, a union tie by association thing and let it go. Now I see all of them are trickling back, looking to do the show without their writers. Which is fine with me....late night "comedy" shows have become fucking dreadful, haven't they? Let's see:

- come out and do current events monologue. Paris Hilton? check. Bush is dumb? Check. OJ, Clinton, Anna Nicole, check check check. Boy, that was tough.

- commercial

- perform various "sketches" for our enjoyment. These don't even hafta be actually funny - in fact if they flop it's even better, you get to look self-deprecating while bashing NBC or CBS or whomever, as if they're "The Man" and you're some scrapper with a shoestring budget just trying to do jokes.

- Insert current hot movie star here. "How do you like LA? Really? Wow! Hey, lets look at a clip of your movie! You're incredible!!!!"

- commercial

- Insert current hot movie star here. "How do you like NY? Really? Wow! Hey, lets look at a clip of your movie! You're incredible!!!!"

- commercial

- crappy band performs here. Usually Fall Out Boy. Walk out and shake hands with singer as if you're touching Elvis circa 1956.

Wow. I can see why you'd need writers for that. My buddy Rrthur (yes ladies, THAT Rrthur) and I were watching the Don Rickles doc on HBO the other day and while looking at his old clips with Carson, we were reminded of how loose and funny those shows were. You never knew when an old school buddy of Johnny's would just pop in, and off they'd go trying to kill each other on the couch. How many times did you watch back then when at the end of the show Johnny would apologize for so and so having been bumped? Sorry, Dean Martin just ambled in smoking and drinking. Wouldn't you rather it be that way anyways? Would you rather sit there while say, Will Smith, makes his regular appreance like clockwork ("I have a movie coming out on Friday") spouting the same old shit over and over or...ANYthing else? Fucking christ. I'd rather watch Conan sit there talking to his maid for half an hour knowing that at any second Jeffrey Ross could come rolling in half in the bag. Not just to fucking promote whatever's next in the pipeline, not to announce his succesful rehab stint, but just to shoot the shit and be funny.

I don't know the details of the writer's strike. I really don't care. I assume they're fighting earnestly for something they're genuinly owed. But I can't say I would ever miss them and their "craft" on tv. How'd we go from Carson confronting Rickles about his broken cigarette case to such unfunny stiltedness? Will be interesting to see if the current hosts use their appearances "without writers" as opoortunities to really cut loose, or just show up with the same old shit. I got a hunch I already know the answer, unfortunately.

tuesdays bete noire

you have 24 minutes to kill before you have to meet someone somewhere you dont want to be. so you duck into the nearest dive for a quick buzz and 2 bucks worth of songs. you put money in the juke and chug your first beer. a new song starts and it aint yours. you order another beer and drink it almost as fast. still another beer and two more songs not yours. the thought of bartender collusion crosses your mind but you stand down. 16 minutes to go. you order your fourth beer and get it free. more songs that aint yours. you begin to calculate how long your set will run and rationalize how late late can be. 10 minutes to go and youre drunk. you give yourself one more song, maybe two, and one last beer. 7 minutes to go. make or break time. a moronic roar goes up from the four scattered patrons as an interminable version of dazed and confused starts to play. your blood boils. you finish your beer, yell something not understood and consider punching everyone in the fucking place with 6 minutes to go.

Disappointing.

Can't say I ever woulda had "interfering with a court case" in the "First Time Amy Winehouse is Dragged off to Jail" office pool. Hmm.






















"...what the...remove the tag...from MY MATTRESS?!?! are you crazy!?!?!!!"

As for the Mitchell Report...

...I'm not saying Clemens ain't guilty. More than likely he is. But if I'm gonna immediately and automatically throw away his Hall of Fame plaque and instantaneously wipe his 7 Cy Youngs, 354 wins and 4672 strikeouts from my brain, can I have more of a reason than allegations from a trainer whose claim to fame up until Monday was being a suspect in a rape case? Please? This guy opens his mouth and BAM! THAT'S IT ROG, SEE YA, FUCKFACE!!! Really? Odd to me. I might need a little more. And no, "gee he got really really big!!!" isn't enough.

I've Dropped the Soap

I know this comes off chauvinistic, but from my earliest days on I've thought soap operas to be for women only - any time I'd hear a dude talking about watching them I'd think hmmm...that guy's weird. And of course by "weird" I mean "might not be spending time trying to steal my girlfriend", if you know what I mean. And of course by "if you know what I mean" I mean "I love to beat up fags after getting some Baptist trim."

Anyways. You get my point. But then I land upon the Soap Channel, patiently awaiting today's double shot of 90210, and it dawns on me that gee, if there ever was a genre made for me, it's the fucking soaps. Everything I like. On the screen every day, year after year, forming a calming, comfy background for me. Nothing really ever happens, so I don't hafta really pay attention or turn on my brain. But most of all, the women! Every single one of them, smoking hot. All of them hot, rich, over-tanned and EVERY SINGLE ONE wearing a super-tight silk shirt, barely keeping in fake titties. Man. And they got it all - white, black, young, old....is it even possible to have a genre with more Senior Division Mrs. Xmastimes in it? Good lord.

I'm gonna decide on a soap and become a fan, seems like no matter which one I pick I'll be fucking in love with five of the chicks, pants folded down like an accordion on the floor. How the fuck could I have been missing all this all these years????!!

Brooks Was Here

How the FUCK can you write a story like this and not mention it's obvious inspiration, The Shawshank Redemption? Has this guy not been on planet Earth for the last 10 years? Camon! Wake the fuck up!!!!














"Guts?"
"Yeah."

Breaking News

Pam Anderson is getting divorced. Tommy Lee, Kid Rock, and now the guy that was in Paris' fuck flick. Congrats Pam, you did it: The Total Fuckwad Hat Trick.





















Thanks to Rrthur (yes ladies, THAT Rrthur) for the heads-up.

Xmas Family Christmas

Set in a ridiculously picturesque nook of Leesburg my brother now calls home, this year's Xmas Family Christmas Weekend was, unlike some other years, refreshingly and wonderfully low-key. We hung out in front of the fire place watching kids open gifts, drank bourbon that didn't come from a gas station and marvelled at the many, MANY things that Sistatime said that vaguely made no sense. Was awesome. Way too short, but awesome. And guess who is Uncle of the Year for showing up with a Radio Flyer tricycle for Paddy Mac? Course, next year I gotta get him a boat. And if you thought the kid resembled Ralphie from "A Christmas Story" before, I got some pictures on the way that'll make you look for Flick's tongue on a light pole. Also if I can do it I'll post a video of the newest Christmas tradition: Slo-Mo, Santa's sidekick that arrives every year ten days before Christmas to check and see which kids are bullshitting re: being good all year. :)

XMASTIME PODCAST PART 1

PART 1

XMASTIME PODCAST PART 2

PART 2

HAYDAY Album (Finally) Released

The greatest band in the history of Earth, HAYDAY, has just released a record, which you can buy here. For info/album art hit Reel to Reel Records.

Spread the word, cause remember: every copy you buy, that's one less container from the Nest my friends have to buy for me, so...do the right thing! :)

and yes, two of the songs are misspelled on ITunes, which is beyond retarded. "bes"? fuuuuuuuuuuuuck!!!!!

Michael Vick

So Scooter Libby is convicted of obstruction of justice, two counts of perjury and one count of making false statements to federal investigators. In a case which dealt with the outing of a CIA officer which, in a world where such things matter and the rules can't be changed on a whim, is a breach of national security. You remember national security, right? The thing that is pounded on us every day and for which we as citizens are supposed to gladly hand over our civil liberties and Constitution for? Right, that's the one. So Libby plays a part in comprimising national security - yours, mine, ours - and, thanks to who his buddies are, spends....zero months in jail. Nada. Back at the country club by Monday.

And yet Michael Vick gets 2 years? Yes I realize that I'm a cold man who will rot in hell for not thinking the single worst thing you can do in this world is kill dogs. Yes, I think Vick should be punished. Harshly. But let's take this moment to remember that we're in the middle of a "war" where men are dying and being mutilated in the name of our own "national security" - yet the people who have comprimised our security are hitting the links while Vick's sent away to a prison cell, his career over. Seems, in a word, whack to me. Out of kilter.

The fact is, how many of us today even remember Scooter Libby? This administration has so many fuck ups flying out at us that it's almost impossible to remember them; I'm sure something has happened since I started typing this that we'll be reading about next week. Hell, it took Michael Vick being sentenced to remind me of Libby. A part of genius on Bush's part, no? It's come to the point where it's too exhausting to keep up with their bullshit, you almost feel like "well, unless Bush and Cheney come to my house and ass-rape me, I can't even bother anymore", right?

I sayy let's put Scooter Libby in the ring with a coupla pit bulls, see what happens.

10 Subjects I'd Like to See the Folks Over at GodIHateYourBand Tackle

Any of the follwing.

- The 80s was a surprisingly good decade for Christmas music.

- Appetite for Destruction is completely overrated; to hear people talk about it now you'd think it was Revolver times Highway 61. It's a pretty good album, but that's it. Hey, you were better than Poison. Congratulations.

- 200 words on why I should give 2 shits if Wilco's tour bus falls off a mountain and explodes in a ball of fire. No survivors.

- Did rap peak with Public Enemy and has it spent the last 17 years basically saying the same stupid shit over and over? Yes, you're rich. I get it.

- Who's the next band nobody cares about today but will break up and come back in 20 years somehow bigger than the Beatles, a la the Pixies?

- Am I a bad American for thinking Gram Parsons is WAAAAAAAAY overrated, his "genius" only created by mythology and great timing of his own death?

- Why aren't Pete Doherty and Amy Winehouse married?

- Lenny Kravitz is a current day version of TheDoors: he completely sucks but every female on the planet would stab you in the neck for saying so.

- Will Dave Grohl ever be able to write another song that mentions a person, place or thing without everyone wondering if it's about Kurt Cobain? And does it even matter since he's in the most boring band in ther world anyway?

- If Robin Givens and Tyra Banks ever exchange bicycle seats can I be there?

Okay, the last one was for me.

Bush and the NIE

So now that we've become the country that can no longer be embarrassed, the country that can no longer even pretend to muster up any outrage over the Bush administration's latest lying shenanigans, the country that has lost a PR contest with Iran, now it's come to this. With the latest Bush/NIE fiasco, it's come to this. Our level of expectations, our standards for how a president should act or lead have been driven so low that we, as Americans, have to sit in our chairs today and actually hope that the president is as dumb as we think he is. We have to actually hope that he was completely ignorant of the facts, we have to hope that yes, he IS as incurious as we thought - in the back room wrestling with a ball of yarn instead of reading, you know, intelligence. We actually have to hope he's Billy Carter. This is what we've become. Oh, joy!

Pages of the November 19 Issue of InTouch I May Tickle the Monseignor's Foot To

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91

Two pages? That's fuckling it??!?!! And one of them's an ad!! Do I hafta switch to US Weekly for fuck's sake? Or actually meet a woman? What bizarro world have I woken up to?

I'll Never Be an Adult

I know I'll probably never be a real adult cause I'm 35 years old and I have never bought a light bulb. Not once. Who the fuck does? Who thinks "you know what, I should go buy some light bulbs"? To me it's an endless series of rotation - oh my lamp's out, switch it out with a lamp in the living room, swing the one in the bathroom over to the living room and on and on and on. I don't know how, but after all these years I've never run out of light bulbs. I guess one day I will, I'll all of a sudden be sitting in the dark and think "well....that's it I guess" and then blow my fucking brains out.

Oh, furniture too. I've never bought a piece of real furniture. Everywhere I've moved, it's like okay, there's a dresser, great. What the fuck do I care what it looks like? (by the way, that's reason #715 I'd make a great husband: I don't give a shit re: the furniture. Do what you want. What the fuck do I care? Feed me, let me up in them guts and let me watch "The Hills" in peace and you can dress our joint up with a Strawberry Shortcake motif, I could give two shits.)

Early to Rise

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Little Drummer Boy

I'll say what everyone else is thinking: the kid's drumming fucking sucks. Does he even hear the fucking song that's playing? Is he a fucking idiot? Wait, I'm sorry...sickle cell? But his little dance at the end is funny, so fuck it. Is there a definitive Little Drummer Boy? I'm partial to that slow, super sad one that sounds like kids singing that makes me wanna cry for 20 minutes before slitting my own throat. "I am a poor boy too", "I have no gift to bring"...am I not human!?!?? Do I not feel???! "I played my best for him" (waterworks, bursting) Although yes I DO rock, I am not A rock, people!!! Sigh. Here comes Christmas!!!

Sunday Night, Kellogg's Diner, 11:14pm

The official kickoff of the season: my first hearing of Do They Know It's Christmas. We mighta caught them unawares back in the 1780s but the Brits sure kicked our asses with this slice of slices over the pathetic We Are the World. Maybe my alltime #2 Christmas slice behind The Little Drummer Boy. Maybe GodIHateYourBand will get off his fat, old, lazy ass and post on how surprisingly well the 80's did in the Christmas music genre.

Marriage Sounds Fucking AWESOME!!!

Confession #2208

We've been married for 10 years although you can't call our marriage storybook, it's been good and rewarding for both of us. We have been blessed with two beautiful boys and you have treated me with love and respect until lately. Why is not after all of these years of beautiful passionate sex that you want to cum on my face. Wasn't it enough for me to suck you and swallow your cum even though you know I detest the taste, but because I love you, I did for you. Now you want to cum on my face. How does this give you pleasure? I know you look at porn on the computer. I found the pictures and videos you downloaded even though you think you did a good job of hiding them. They are utterly disgusting. When did you begin enjoying this type of perversion? How could women allow as many of twenty men cum on their faces and why does this excite you? When you asked the first time I objected but because you objected and I love you I did it for you. I told you I didn't enjoy it afterwards when actually I hated every moment. I felt like a cheap whore. Your cum shooting up my nose and in my eyes make give you pleasure but makes me feel dirty. When your finished jerking off in my face, you kiss my forward -everytime ensuring your come does not contact your cum- and go to sleep. I have to get up and go into the bathroom to wipe your cum from my face. I FEEL SO DIRTY...It is difficult to look at myself in the mirror before wiping it off. If literally makes me sick. If I wasn't so tired I would take a hot shower. I still love you but because you refuse to take my feelings into account I am quickly loosing respect for you. I don't know how long I can allow this continue but I know I will end it one way or another. I love you so much and you are so good to me in every other way. Why don't you listen to me and stop. Why can't things go back to the way they were?

Checkmate (I'm a Douche!!)

Earlier today I stumbled upon The Kings of New York by Michael Weiner, a great story about the nation's #1 high school chess team made up of troubled kids at a public school in Canarsie. One quick note: flipping to the acknowldgements I read someone telling a story of the great Bobby Fischer walking in and pulverizing a young hot shot in a few moves using a bit of a trick - he didn't mention, and the kid didn't even notice that Fischer had his King in check. I never realized you could even do that, I always assumed you had to announce "check!" every time. ME!!! Misinformed about something!!!!!!

A few years back I was a substitute teaching at a special ed school out in the Rockaways. Mostly grown-up crack babies, many violent, these kids were pretty fucked up. They weren't sitting around reading Madeline L'Engle if you know what I mean. One day I found myself at the end of the day with a class of 11 year olds. Most of the class were kinda good kids, so I gave them the period off to play quietly and just hang out. Your tax dollars at work. Anyway, one kid named Shareef asked me to play chess with him. We had started playing every once in a while, mostly me explaining over and over how the pieces moved til he'd get frustrated and quit/scream at me, or until another fight broke out and I'd hafta shut the class down. I set the board up, and reviewed what the pieces did and we began. I'd make a move, then it'd be like "Jermaine, sit down! Shaniqua shut up! Why is Neil Diamond here?!!?" etc etc, not really paying attention. I'd glance at the board after he'd move, make a move and then get back to screaming at children. No big whoop. All of a sudden I looked down and realized....oh, shit. This kid was a few moves away from beating me. While not paying attention, I had opened myself up to getting beat by this 11 year old special needs kid. Holy shit.

I thought for a minute. On one hand, I could go ahead with the game, and give the kid a real thrill by beating me. Give him a little ray of light in his unbelievably dark world, give him something to talk and think about. A tiny tiny slice of hope, even if only for a short while. As his teacher, wasn't that my real job anyway? You can get out of here, you are capable of doing great things, etc etc?

Of couse I decided upon another direction: I stalled for a few seconds and waited for the inevitable. It came - a mild outburst from across the room, some yelling/slapping etc that I normally wouldn't have even noticed in a class like that.

"THAT'S IT!!!" I yell jumping up from my seat, pretending to look furious. "That's IT!! Everyone back in their seats, free time is over!! And dammit Shareef, put away that chess board, the game's over!!" and huffed off to the front of the room acting pissed. What. a. fucking. douche.

Announcement in the Works

An announcement may be coming down between now and Christmas re: the status of Britney Spears and Tori Spelling on Xmastime's list o' ladies. Especially after watching an episode of BH 90210 when Val asks David to pretty much choose between her and Donna and without thinking I was like damn, Silver....run a lawn mower over Donna to get up in some Valerie. Stay tuned.

I'll Say It: The Troops are Idiots

Can we officially stop faux-genuflecting re: the troops now that we keep hiring private firms like Blackwater to fight and giving them up to 10 or 12 times more money? We call our military "heroes" et al, yet if there's a battle we actually hafta fight and win, we send in Blackwater. I guess if you're an American troop you can get lucky with sloppy seconds and get shot the next day. And if you're REALLY lucky we'll send you to Walter Reed so a rat can chew on your stump. Yeeeeaaah, troops!

I mean, we're basically bullying our troops and taking their lunch money at this point, aren't we? What more can we do to them - short sheet their cots? Why don't we steal all their girlfriends while they're over there? Are we supposed to believe we're above that, considering what we're doing to them? We've turned the troops into the guy who buys a girl dinner and a show and then gives her a ride to another guy's house to fuck. When are the troops gonna see this and get pissed off? Oh, right....talk about sending them home for Christmas kills their morale, not something like paying someone else ten times what you get plus real equipment. Sorry. My bust. Should we think of them as stupid now? Seems like they'd hafta be, right? Would you put up with this kind of treatment if you worked at Wal-Mart? No. You wouldn't. But I guess if you're at Wal-Mart we wouldn't have speeches where people can work up fake tears to raise more money either. We cry and moan with our boots on their throats. Wake the fuck up.

Oh, HELL No

I'm pretty sure I'll never hafta go through any of the ol' "scared of the girlfriend's father" nonsense in this lifetime. I'm 35 now. And let's face it - I'm such a loser jerkoff of a mess that even if I started getting my shit togther right now, I'd prolly be 38 by the time I got a girlfriend worthy enough of bothering to meet her folks. And if I ever do get my fer-shizzle together I'll definiely be the king of the beach so I'll most like be tapping some 24 or 25 year old ass. Which would make her father about 6 or 7 years older than me. I'm sorry, but I'm not doing the respectful, you're so scary routine with some fuckwad who just barely remembers Kristy McNichol having a career more than myself.

"Xmastime, it's a pleasure to finally meet you."
"Yeah, cool, Ron."
"Um...that's Mr. Clayton to you, Xmas."
"Yeah...hey Ronny, is the mother as horny as this one? fucking christ." (feet on table, spitting out lone sunflower seed)

The Non-Help Answer

I'll tell you what drives me fucking bananas: absolutely non-helping answers to questions. For instance, yesterday I was at the Museum of Natural History with my two godsons and one of my godsons dm. We're looking at some animal exhibits and we start to wnder if they're real and stuffed, or fabricated. I would normally assume real, since it's a museum, but some of them looked kinda fake. So we wanted to make sure and asked someone who worked there. To whit: "Yeah, they're either real or fake." End of answer. Thanks a fucking lot Steve Irwin.

But the King of the No-Help answer has gotta be my buddy Rrthur (yes ladies. THAT Rrthur.) He will drive you fucking crazy. Say for instance I'll call "hey, where's the _____ dvd?" To which there are three acceptable answers:

1) "Sorry, I have no idea."
2) "Oh, its (give exact location)"
3) "Not sure, but I think it may be (give specific area to look)

But no. What does one get from Rrthur in a situation as this? "Hmm. You know what, you should look around for it." (my head exploding)

Really? Thanks buddy! Look around for it, that's it? Thank god; I was gonna stand in the fucking kitchen tapping my nuts with a spoon until someone walked into the room with the dvd. Thanks! FuuuuuuuuuuucckkK!!!!!!!! Drives me fucking insane. The Non-help Answer: nangluance with a voice.

Sticking My Head in the Oven, Vol. VIII

Buttons on my remote that have stopped fucking working:

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0
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grrrrrrrrrrrr.

Hillary Hearts Peyton

For about 10 years, I had no problem telling people that Hillary would make a great president. And I believed it - I thought she was brilliant and practical and yes, the fact that she would have Bill available helped too. Of course, there's no way I ever thought she could be elected. Number one, she's a woman. And we can say what we wanna about the "American people" but the fact is we're prolly still a ways from electing a woman, and her being the one woman who can't be counted on to actually get the woman vote doesn't help her.

But now that she's actually in the race as a front-runner, there's no way I could vote for her. Her staff-driven calculated robot-like machinations are the stuff of legend in their absurdity. The line that seperates her from being a Republican is about as thick as Nicole Richie after a Drano popsicle. I like that unlike most Democrats she's not a complete pussy and is up for a fight, but her going after something Obama said in kindergarten is cringe-worthy and beyond petty. And her being a woman forces her to show extra toughness, so she's had to be more of a hawk than anyone else. When, ironically, her being a woman COULD HAVE been something to work in her favor in light of new information about Iran's nuclear program - she could come out and say hey, I'm a woman, I'm not goaded into false machismo and threatening other countries unnecessarily. But no.

Hillary won't get elected for many reasons, but it's just occured to me that she is the 1997 Peyton Manning of the race. Remember Peyton back then? As soon as the 1996 Hesiman winner was announced, everybody in the free world said well, next year Peyton will run away with it. A no-brainer. The months went on and on and all anybody talked about was how Peyton was definitly gonna win the award. Then a funny thing happened. People got tired of talking about him being the only choice. Even though he clearly deserved to win it, people simply got tired of talking about him and started looking for reasons to vote for somebody else, anybody else. The average voter thought fuck it, I'm tired of hearing about Peyton - I'll vote for so and so; it's only one vote anyway, Peyton will still win. And ta-da! Even though he should've, he didn't win. Now here we are still a year away from the election; there's no way in 6 months people are going to be able to stomach even mentioning Hillary's name. Even if you like her, it's all too much. Too much daily controvery, too much media, by the end people will be worn down to the nubs and will not be able to support her. Which is a shame, cause I do believe that if she dropped her robot act, stopped running desperately to the middle and allowed being a woman to work FOR her instead of trying to join the Boy's Club, I think if elected she could be a great president. But it ain't gonna happen. Hillary is trying so hard to be a man; she'd better hope she doesn't become a Manning.

Redskins Game

I know this was a tough week for the Redskins. I realize maybe some decisions were made out of too much emotion. I do keep that in mind as I write the following paragraphs, believe me. And like everyone else, when I first heard about the defense playing the first play with only 10 players I was moved.

But then I hear that Gregg Williams pulled this off without telling Joe Gibbs, which to me under any circumstances is absolutely incorrigible. You have COMPLETELY undermined your head coach - there is zero doubt now that Gibbs will be done after the next four games. Under any other circumstances Williams woulda been fired at halftime (and yes, I realize that under any other circumstances this play would not have happened.) Williams didn't pull this over on some rookie coach, he did it to one of the all-time great coaches who was never anything if not pure class.

I played defense on my football team and yes, there is always a more palpable "fuck you, us against the world" air, more so than offense. Defense is the emotion of a team. I understand this. But in not bothering to check with Gibbs they've made a complete fool of him.

Also if I was the Bills coach I'd be pissed, as the word is he wasn't told of the Skins' plan to honor Taylor on that first play. Surely there's no coach who wouldn't have been more than happy to be a part of it and run a play with his players knowing not to break for a long gain or score. What if the runner had broken through for a touchdown? Then the Bills coach looks like an asshole for having taken advantage of the Skins honoring their fallen teammate, and would spend years labeled thusly.

The armchair strong safety will billow his or her chest and say "eff you, we did it and they didn't score, shows how tough we are." etc etc. They'll tell you the whole point was for the Bills to go 100% on them. Well, what if they did score? It was in the end a tight game - what if the difference ended up being a play where you were scored on while pulling a stunt like that, a stunt you hadn't even told the head coach about? After an athlete dies, everyone walks around saying "so and so would want us to play!" and "so and so would want us to win!" Nobody says "So and so would want us to risk this game by pulling some stunt to honor him!"

I don't blame the players. They're young and emotional. They'll remember being a part of that play for Taylor longer than they'll remember the rest of the game. Maybe to them honoring Taylor, even if haphazardly, was more important than winning the game. I can understand that. But I do blame Gregg Williams. Reprehensible not to tell Gibbs. If I'm an owner I do not hire him in the future, as he seems willing to invoke some sort of Buddy Ryan v. the Rest of the Team nonsense should the notion arise. A lot of my friends are Skins fans and I'm sure they disagree with me, and that's alright. I feel like I'm removed enough to see what I see, which is Williams fucked up. And once some of the emotion wears off, I would think Gibbs would feel the same way.

Does the Pope Shit in the Woods?

From the No Shit Sherlock Department:

"For men, kissing is more often used as a means to an end -- namely, to gain sexual access."

Hmm. There's news. Do I just stand there playing with the doorknob cause I like it so much, or do I use it to get into the room?

Do I get a triple entendre on that one?

You're Welcome.

Told you fuckers I'd learn the robot.

Remember the Titans (except for this one stupid part)

I realize I’m the only person over the age of 11 who loves the movie Remember the Titans. Yes, I know it’s Disney-fied, but I still love watching it. It's got Denzel, football and Virginia for fuck's sake. But one thing that always bugs the shit outta me is the recurring theme that Ronnie Bass (Sunshine) as the backup qb cannot pitch the ball to the tailback. He keeps botching it in practice, and when he’s finally inserted after the Rev gets hurt he panics, screeching to Denzel to not put him in cause he can’t make the pitch to the tailback while running the option.

Really? Yet in the first fucking scene we have with Sunshine he picks up a ball and nails a dude in the back on purpose from 40 yards away. Bullseye. He gets in the game and is winging the ball all over the place Joe Montana style (in real life Bass went on to star at South Carolina.) Yet for some reason, even though we see he can put the ball wherever he wants all over the field, we’re supposed to believe he can’t toss the ball 4 yards to his teammate? What? Isn’t this like me saying that I can go all night satisfying a porn star in the sack but can’t jerk off? Camon!!

Ready Teddy

Am I the only person who until now had no idea that it wasn't even the teacher that called that teddy bear "Muhammed", it was her students? 20 out of 23 kids voted for the name. Which, apparently, is one of the most popular names in the Sudan. How come it's not an offense to name your kid after the prophet? Isn't that insulting; "the 7lbs of flesh I just shit out of myself is worthy of being named Muhammed"? Shouldn't these parents be getting the lash?

These people went batshit about a teddy bear's name. Isn't this just one more indication that hey, maybe we don't understand these people and should stop pretending we do?
















Teddy regretted getting his paws caught in the honey pot til he remembered the 72 virgins awaiting him....

Things are Good, Vol. XIX

1) THE FOLLOWING I AM PLACING MORATORIUMS ON:

a) Saying "I HEART you" out loud. Or, even worse, speaking of someone else: "awwww, Sherilyn hearts Ricky!" You are not a fucking Hello Kitty keychain; dial down the "cutesy-wutesy." Guess what? "Heart" is not a verb. But "next time you say I heart someone I'm gonna knock your teeth out with the kitchen sink and then string them together to make anal beads to rip your guts out with" is. Enough. Xmastime does not heart your bullshit.

b) The drolly ironic "Internets." Yes, it was funny when Bush did it. And yes, it was even funny the next day when you said it. But like equal rights for women and "FrankTV," its 15 minutes of fame are up. Enough.

c) Songs with "town" all over them. Ever notice there's no cities in songs? No cities, counties, states, nothing. Everything is a fucking town. Leaving this town, gotta get outta town, this town is this or that. What the fuck. Even New York City to any songwriter is a "town." Another case of someone needing to portray some sense of ruralness for authenticity - ooooh buddy, you used the word "town" - you're so REAL!!! WOW!!! So down-homey – I bet you don’t even OWN a tv!! Your iPod has a screen door on it!! Congratulations, you're Woody Guthrie in a Modest Mouse t-shirt. Enough.

2) I saw some issue of Rolling Stone the other day that had an article about the guy who invented the World Wide Web. I had no idea what his name was. And actually, I still don't. How is it possible that here we have the World Wide Web, arguably the single biggest innovation of the last 50 years or more, and we have no idea who the inventor is but I have the name "Eli Whitney" branded on my fucking brain? I can't scratch my balls without hearing the name Robert Fulton, yet for all I know the dude who invented the World Wide Web could be in my "Where are all the Fuckpigs?" chat room and I'd have no idea.

3) There's white trash. There's poor white trash. How come there's no black trash? Only white people can be trashy? Does "The Flavor of Love" only come on my tv?

4) How come surgery is "performed"? A doctor practices medicine but performs surgery. I don't know if I want someone cutting me open if the procedure is called such that it sounds like he's gonna be yukking it up for an audience, do I? I want the so serious it's only written and transcribed Brahms version of surgery, not the fucking Spice Girls hit the O.R. one.

5) I got a jar of Cheez Wiz the other day and it turns out you can't just stick the jar in the microwave if you wanna heat up the cheese. The jar says explicitly that you have to transfer the cheese to a microwaveable dish. Are you kidding me? This INFRURIATES me cause now no matter how much you scrape at the jar, you can't fucking get all the cheese out. So you're left standing there, looking at all the cheese you gotta throw away and feeling fucking cheated. Congratulations Cheez Wiz, you've accomplished what I had previously thought to be the impossible: turn me off of bright yellow viscous processed liquid cheese. As Paulie said to Henry Hill at the end of Goodfellas when he found out he was dealing drugs, now I gotta turn my back to you.

6) Speaking of surgery, I know it's only a tv show but are we really expected to believe that the surgeons in "M*A*S*H" could pound gin all day, even though at any moment choppers could show up with wounded? Believe me, I drunk my share of gin, and I've come to work the next day hung over. But at no point did I think I might hafta all of a sudden gut someone open to save his life. But I did once piss myself, convince the girl I was with that it was just a beer I had spilled (cause you know, it's not like she would've noticed that I had brought a can of beer to bed) and still got up in those guts that morning, so I guess it's kinda the same thing.

7) What the fuck is butter pecan? Have you even seen it as a flavor in anything but ice cream? There's no butter pecan cake, there's no butter pecan brownies. Whoever came up with butter pecan sounds like a lazy motherfucker, no? "I got my flavor in ice cream. Fuck it, that's enough."

8) Oh, forgot another moratorium. Can a "sitcom" on tv say someone is "autistic" without the automatic followup of "really? He's artistic?" grrrrr. Every time that happens, does Joey from "Friends" get his wings?

9) Since Cher is an all-time Mrs. Xmastime I find myself watching Mask from time to time. How triumphant can we really feel about how Rocky lives his life if the writers give him a girlfriend, but decide "you know what...better make her blind..."?

10) And speaking of "M*A*S*H" how can TVLand run reruns of this in a time of war - wouldn't showing a soldier who cross-dresses and is an Arab completely ruin the morale of the troops? Can we assume they're curled up in their tents crying to each other cause of this? Way to go TVLand. Osama bin Klinger motherfucker.















"Hey, I'm a priest, you can trust me...loosen up...aren't you warm under all that fur? Let's get that thing off....."

The Manny Tapes

Putting the kid down for his nap is a lot like taking the dog to the vet - kid's completely clueless about what's happening until the very last second.

Every single morning at about 10:30 I grab a big ol bottle of milk, hoist him into the easy chair with me and wind him down. Within minutes he's guzzling the milk and rubbing his eyes, starting to slowly drift into the ether of sleep. After a few more minutes I get up and start carryng him upstairs where his bedroom and crib are. Now, as I said, this is the EXACT same every day. Yet at no point has he figured out what this series of events lead to; I can read his mind what he must be thinking each time:

"Oh boy, that milk was great! Hey, where's the Manny taking me....hey, up the stairs! Great! Hey look, the hallway upstairs! This is awesome! Where we going - aquarium? Zoo? Meeting my buddy Luke? Hey, we're in my bedroom now! Great! This is awesome! Wow, my crib! Looky here! We're going to my crib, alright! Alright, now we...hey, wait a fucking second...he's lowering me into the crib! What the FUCK is happening??!! Oh shit, it's naptime! FuuuuuuuuuccckK!!!" at which point he flips out bitching and screaming. Until of course 30 seconds later when he's face down, fanny in the air sleeping.















"Hahahaha!! Yeah Xmastime, I'm really 'sleeping', you stupid fat fuck! Now get the fuck out!"

Snow Day!

The only thing I like as much as complete and utter darkness outside is when it snows. And today, finally, brings the first snowfall of the year, which led me to start thinking about certain albums that snow reminds me of. Sometimes it's the sound, sometimes some stupid memory attached to it. Such as

The Replacements "Tim": any Replacements album has a fall/winterness to it. Tim sounds like winter cause of the reverb, plus I can still hear it as David English's huge gray truck pulls us out of a ditch on a snow day.
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The Replacements "Don't Tell a Soul": in love for the first time, listening to this going sledding with a broken heart.
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Husker Du "Flip Your Wig": everything they did sounded like a blizzard, right?
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Pavement "Slanted and Enchanted": doesn't sound wintry, but it was snowing when I first heard it in a station wagon (and I REALLY wanted to hate it.)
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The Phil Spector box set: camon. All those songs reek of winter; somehting about that wall of sound. And that's BEFORE you put the Christmas record on. Prolly THE winter/snow set.
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The Ramones "Halfway to Sanity": was another snow day when I bought this (12/22/87) at Doc's in town. Loaded up in my friend Brian's Capri, went to Richmond to walk around the mall all day.
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U2 "War" and "The Unforgettable Fire": just sound wintry. I guess that video for "New Years Day" helps.
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The Beatles "A Hard Day's Night": cozy wintry sound, and makes me think of all the snowy nights I played this on the juke at the Halloween Bar.
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DT & the Shakes "Don't Let Me Down" single: has that enclosed, compressed sound to it that reeks of cold, winter night. and I grew up worshiping them and the Rational Herdsmen and the Undecided, all at JMU in the mid-80s, and I'd always picture them playin at a bar while it snows outside. Awwwwwwww.
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And of course if you see snow and don't immediately think of "Fairytale of New York", then you ain't human.