Separated at Birth - Stayin' Alive

I can't imagine what would possess someone with money to get a rug like this. Awful. I wonder if the carpet matches the drapes.

"I'll Have a McQuaalude with Cheese..."

Check out this groovy video clip. Welcome to the intersection of fast food commercials and acid. From the apple pie trees ... to the thick shake volcanos ... to the french fry plants ... to the hamburger patch ... the whole thing is just fucking bizarre.

BTW, whatever happened to Mayor McCheese? Did they kill him off or what?

(Thanks again to VMD for sending).

Is Your Cat a Pirate?

This video is hilarious, although it might be a bit more accurate to ask "Is your cat a gold prospector?" given the way that the lucky owner sifts through the sand box. I also think that given all she's finding is congealed, sandy clumps of cat urine and excrement, it might be a bit of a stretch to describe it as "treasure."

(Thanks to VMD for sending)

Celebrity Trainwreck (Cont.)

After watching this video of a clearly-stoned, pregnant, clown-faced Anna Nicole Smith talking to a doll in a baby carriage as if it were real, I'm seriously going to have to rethink my "no dead celebrities on the Top 10 Celebrity Train Wreck List" rule. Even worse, I'm thinking that MJ might actually get bumped down to #3 after watching this video.

God, I can't even believe I'm typing this. Where are the unicorns?

My Celebrity Train Wreck List

I cannot believe I am about to do this. I swore on my children that I would never waver in my belief and allegiance. And yet, I can no longer continue to believe the way that I do.

For years, Michael Jackson has been a solid #1 on my list of celebrity train wrecks. There were so many contributing factors - his obsession with make believe and fantasy; his ever-changing grotesque appearance; his penchant for sharing his bed and bodily fluids with underage boys; his pet chimp Bubbles and Neverland Ranch; the criminal allegations; his bizarre parenting style; etc. Shit, the list goes on and on and on.

But for the first time ever, I think he may be displaced. I’m going to go out on a limb and state that we have a new reigning Champion of the Insane -- and her name is Britney Spears. You could point to a number of escalating high profile wrecks (the frequency and severity of which both seem to be increasing): her predictably awful marriage to Wigger-iffic Kevin Federline and subsequent separation; her generally bizarre behavior, including having her babymaker photographed repeatedly by the paparazzi; and her rapid transformation from sexy vixen to bloated, pasty redneck. And now, in the span of about 48 hours, she checked herself into rehab; exited said rehab the same day; shaved her head herself; and then got a tattoo while ranting “I don't want anyone touching me! I'm tired of everyone touching me!” Fantastic.

You don’t understand how serious and fundamental a shift this is for me. This is like me rooting for the Yankees in baseball or USC in football. To not rank Michael Jackson at #1 flies in the face of all reason. I’m terrified at which other of my long standing beliefs would change next. Will I suddenly find Scarlett Johansson hideous and Paris Hilton hygienic and admirable? I shudder the thought.

With that preface, ladies and gentlemen, I bring you the new “Top 10 Celebrity Train Wreck List” TM:

1. Britney Spears
2. Michael Jackson
3. Lindsey Lohan
4. Courtney Love
5. Whitney Houston/Bobby Brown
6. Tom Cruise/Katie Holmes
7. Nicole Ritchie
8. Mel Gibson
9. Tara Reid
10. Mariah Carey

Honorable mention (in alphabetical order): Paula Abdul, Danny Bonaduce, Pete Doherty, Nick Nolte, Charlie Sheen and Sharon Stone.

As an aside, I should note that Anna Nicole Smith would easily rank in the top 5 (perhaps the top 3) if she were alive. However, the Top 10 CTWL is reserved for living celebrities only, otherwise we would have to expand the list to include a whole bunch of other celebrities who died on their way to Crazy Town.

Feel free to comment, supplement or mock as you see fit.

Al Gore, What the Fuck Did You Eat?

Jesus Christ, stay away from the deep fried St. Louis food. Now that you've discovered the Internet, Al, you need to discover yogurt and sit-ups. Hop to it, my man.

Sorry it's not much. I wanted to post something, but I'm swamped today. I hope you all have a great holiday weekend.

Pet Peeves of the Day

Here's a short excerpt of the never-ending list of things that piss me off:

* Three hour conference calls where I haven't been provided a copy of the handout materials. "Oh, you can Google 12 C.F.R. 30 to find the regulations online." Fuck that. I can also Google "amputee porn" but I'm not going to do that either.

* When it rains, there are 2 sets of people that annoy he shit out of me: (a) those people who have oversized umbrellas who walk down the middle of the street, causing other pedestrians to duck and dive out of their way, and (b) those people who have umbrellas but who insist on walking under the awning, forcing those individuals without umbrellas to walk out in the rain in order to avoid them.

* I bought a daybed sofa last night and specifically asked "does this include everything? Is there another box?" I was assured that I had everything. I get home ... open up the box ... and discover I'm missing the mattress, the hardware, the instructions and a pillow. What the fuck?! How could I be missing all this stuff? I call them back and they reassure me that there's not another box and ask that I return it for another box, presumably one that contains all of the required pieces. You can be goddamned sure that I'm going to open it up in the store and assemble it right there to make sure I have everything.

Okay, that is all .... for now.

Separated at Birth...

... Chaka Khan and the Earth.

There's nothing wrong with being plus-sized Chaka, just don't dress up like the Big Blue Marble. I'm just saying.

Celebrity Plastic Surgery Gone Awry

It's odd / funny / sad how often bad cheek implants make a celebrity look like Madame (I'm not certain who ends up looking like Wayland Flowers). Joan Rivers is a lost cause. I know Dolly's 60, but good lord, what the hell happened to her? And is that Cher or Axel Rose?

Happy Valentine's Day

Valentine's Day ranks right up there with New Year's and George W. Bush Day as my least favorite holiday. However even a hard ass like myself couldn't resist the romantic draw of this card. Happy Valentine's Day everyone!

(Okay, I'll admit it's a bit crass but still it's goddamned funny.)

TurboTax is in the Hizzle!

The New York Post reported that Vanilla Ice was hired by TurboTax.com (owned by Intuit) to host the "Tax Rap Contest," "providing fun-loving taxpayers nationwide a shot at their own Grammy-worthy performance and $25,000 in winnings."

To kick off the contest, Vanilla Ice has unveiled an original music video "inspired by his own personal tax-filing experiences" on YouTube. "We want people to 'get their tax on,' " said a company rep.

And if you thought the description was bad enough, you should check out the website.

Wow, $25,000 to make a complete ass of yourself. Sign me up. The site indicates that are other prizes as well, such as TurboTax downloads. Which is great, except the contest winners aren't announced until April 15. The day that taxes are due. Well done, Intuit.

Challenge - I dare anyone out there to watch the homemade videos in the entirety. I personally think that the Ned Beaty rape scene in Deliverance is more palatable than these videos. Simply awful.

Come 'N Get 'Er!

To the left is a photo of deep fryer. And below is Monday's cafeteria menu for my company, which is headquartered in Shit Louis, MO. Please note the heavy emphasis on foods utilizing the pictured deep fryer:




"February 12th-16th, 2006

GUEST CHEF MONDAY-DONNA’S DEEP FRYER

Country Fried Hamburgers
Country Fried Banana and P-Nut Butter Sandwiches
Deep Fried Catfish (Farm Raised)
Fried Veggie Wraps
French Fries
Fried Okra
Fried Mushrooms
Fried Pickles

ALSO!!! Fried Cookies and Twinkies!!!"


Uhhh, is anyone else noticing a trend here? Yes people, every goddamned food item is deep fried. What the fuck?! I thought that the restaurant I frequented once in STL that sold deep fried cheescake was the exception, not the grotesquely unhealthy norm. Jesus Christ, would it have killed them to sell the pickles, cookies and Twinkies as is?

As an aside, did these backwoods people ever learn how to spell the word "peanut"? What kind of country-ebonics is the word "P-Nut"? I don't know if it's stupidity or laziness, but it's ridiculous either way.

Ugh, I keep thinking about the menu and I'm beginning to feel seriously queasy. I was beginning to think it was just my sensitive stomach and then I found the below t-shirt and realized that it's not me, it's them.

Say Goodbye to Russell Crowe's Testacles

Russell Crowe, who co-owns a national rugby league (NRL) team in South Sydney, recently announced that his club was doing away with its cheerleaders because they made male fans feel uncomfortable. Instead of cheerleaders, the "Rabbitohs" will have a drumming band during NRL home matches.

"Our focus is to re-establish rugby league and women," Crowe said. "The focus on game day should be a positive experience for the crowd."

And my favorite, unfathomable quote:

"We feel the cheerleaders made a lot of (male fans) uncomfortable."

Actually Russell, I seriously doubt that men watching rugby league football -- which is one of the most violent and aggressive games on the planet -- are too uncomfortable with female cheerleaders. Human sacrifice? Probably so. Attractive women in skimpy clothes? Probably not so much.

Other implausible quotes include:

* "We examined game day and wanted to contemporise and make the focus football."

* "We felt we didn't need cheerleaders and would like them replaced by a group of drummers, male and female."

* "We've talked to a lot of people and everyone sees it as being progressive."

* "The whole idea of percussion will be exciting for the crowd."

Not surprisingly, the Hollywood star also said his wife demand...., uhhh, supported the club's controversial move, who liked the idea of men and women performing together in the drum band.

"She likes the fact that game day entertainment will be multi-sex. She likes that aspect," Crowe said.

Jesus Christ, did your wife remove both of your stones? What happened to the drunken, brawling, skirt-chasing, cellphone-throwing Russell Crowe that we all knew and lov..., uhhh, tolerated?

If skimpily-clad, attractive women cannot cheer for their favorite rugby team ... then I'm afraid that the terrorists have truly won.

Missouri in a Nutshell

This video pretty much captures the essence of Missouri. Oh, add in the fact that Shit Louis is the murder and STD capital of the United States and, well, you can pretty much guess why my heart goes pitter patter every time I have the privilege to go there.

Sorry I've been derelict in my posting duties - I should be shot. I pray to god/allah/scarlett johansson that I will have a post about my meeting by tomorrow. Hectic, hectic work days have dragged me down recently.

Separated at Birth

Fergie and E.T. Absolutely accurate ... and frightening.



Preview: A more detailed post about my STL trip will follow.

"So Does it Come With a View?"

No, this man is not a giant. He's simply standing in a ridiculously small "flat" in London that is going for $335K. No, I'm dead serious.

In the latest "News of the Ridiculous," a 77-square-foot former storage room — slightly bigger than a prison cell and without electricity — is going for $335,000 in London's exclusive Knightsbridge neighborhood.

At more than $4,340 a square foot, the mortgage buys a spot within walking distance of tony stores like Harrods and London's iconic Hyde Park. Originally conceived as a maid's room, the apartment at 18 Cadogan Place hasn't been used for years and is littered with trash bags and crumbling paint. A coffin-sized shower is en suite, and storage is provided by a shallow closet and 10-inch-deep shelves cut into the wall. Two hot plates and a small sink make up the kitchen. Two dirty windows allow light to filter into the basement room, and the fire escape could conceivably double as a shared patio.

Oh, and there's no electricity or heating, which will cost an additional $59,000 in order to make the room habitable.

I'm sorry, but this is just nuttier than Tom Cruise. Jesus Christ, where would I put my Beanie Baby collection? I swear I will never, ever again complain about the price of real estate in the Bay Area.

Thanks to VMD for sending.

The New AT&T

It's been a week since I've posted and, yes, I know that I suck. But the week has been pretty much more of the same - early conference calls and too little sleep.

There was some good news this week. We won our second straight rugby game, leaving us at the top of the standings. However, we play the Division III Rugby National Champions this weekend, so we'll enjoy it while it lasts. And for those who had expressed concerns over my disfigured lip, it is entirely healed up and held up nicely in this past weekend's game. I can't say my neck is in any great shape, but oh well ...

Anyway, here's a funny, albeit confusing, video clip of Stephen Colbert explaining the whole AT&T/Cingular merger. I hadn't even heard the news, so this little video cheat sheet came in quite handy. This video goes out to my telecom homies at the Q. Enjoy, y'all!

Wednesday Nonsense

My crazy manager just quit on Monday. No, not the new, crazy dude that owns a label maker. I'm talking about the crazy woman. That one. Anyway, I knew that she would be leaving eventually when she didn't get the General Counsel's job that she lobbied for -- and actually performed for over a year. But I didn't think she would be so rash to "resign" upon one day's notice -- and without another job to go to. Ouch.

Anyway, she's hired me twice and I've worked for her for years, so it's going to be weird working without her. She would drive me 110% nuts with her crazy fire drills, so I won't miss that. But she was a good person and had a sense of humor, both of which will be missed. It also probably means that David James will need to dust off his resume, which I guess is both good and bad. But I'd better get to it before I, uhhh, resign next.

The Good, The Bad and The Ugly

The "Good" - we won our first rugby match of the season, beating the Marin Reds 11-7. It's a great feeling to win the first league game of our 8 game season, esp. since we weren't so great last year. We have a game this weekend against another good team before we play the Division 3 USA rugby national champion the following weekend.

The "Bad" - somehow my face managed to awkwardly collide with some 300 lb. guy's fist/forearm/paw when he went to high tackle me. Gosh, I am so clumsy sometimes! I managed to bust up my mouth pretty good so, suffice it to say, my lip balm modeling career might be on hold for a bit.

The "Ugly" - because Derek will certainly insist on seeing a photo of said injury, well here you go. My daughter summed it up nicely when she said "Daddy, it looks a little bit ... worse today."

Thank you dear child. You have to love the refreshing honesty of children.

Bye Bye Birdie

Last night as I was making my way in the house, I found another dead bird on my front porch in almost the exact same spot as the one I found on Christmas. I thought the double homicide/suicide was a bit of an odd coincidence, so I decided to research the literary/dream symbolism of a dead bird. Perhaps there's a deeper meaning.

My rudimentary research indicated that the dead bird, as it appears in literature and in dreams, symbolizes "lamentation over lost innocence" (or "maidenhood"), as well as "lost love."

As much as I hate to disappoint my readers, I must admit that I lost my maidenhood a loooong time ago (sorry ladies). And I wouldn't call Scarlett Johansson dating Josh Hartnett "lost love," per se, although I guess that could change if she were to marry that loser.

Since that didn't really explain things much, I then began to ponder the "how" and "why" of it all. Most notably, "why am I getting weekly deliveries of dead birds on my goddamned front porch?" After considering the various possibilities, I concluded that one of the following was the answer:

Conclusion 1 - The roof of my house is made out of some mysterious, toxic substance which instantly kills birds on contact. Awesome. Now if I could only find some more of that goop to slather on Ann Coulter, I'd be very pleased.

Conclusion 2 - Some asshole is distributing dead birds in my neighborhood like some sort of fucking Johnny Appleseed. This would be equally awesome except for the fact that I'm the only one that appears to be regularly receiving these little gifts.

Conclusion 3 - A neighborhood cat is trying to curry favor with me by leaving me dead presents on my doorstep on a daily basis. How sweet. While I would prefer chocolates or flowers, I guess a dead bird would have to be considered a unique present. I can't honestly say I've ever received them before.

I'm going to have to choose conclusion 3 since it's the only one that will allow me to sleep at night.

Righteous!