A Mighty Wind

Methinks that Prince Phillip hath cracked a rat.

On a more serious note, I have decided to conduct a series of social experiments as I work from home. I figure that I'm not likely going to have this opportunity again for a very long time, so why not? I'm thinking harmless things like "what happens if I don't shave for two weeks," "how long can I go without talking to another human being," and "how many calories can I possibly eat in one day"? Your suggestions about fun social experiments are encouraged.

This week's challenge - "can I post a blog entry every day?" While not thrilling, I'm sure everyone would agree that it's better than "how many days can David James work without clothes from the hot tub?"

Has it Been One Week Since I Posted?

Jesus, I suck. And not even in the good way. But the home improvement painting project from hell has died down, which will hopefully leave me more time to blog, work off the calories I inhale while working from home and, uhh, work more.

Hope everyone is well. Photos and more interesting stuff hopefully to follow.

Separated at Birth - Nicole Richie

Today's "Separated at Birth" includes everyone's favorite coked-out, bulimic, celebrity train wreck Nicole Richie:



... and the lovable "Gizmo" from the movie "Gremlins":

Clown Hired To Cheer Up Monkeys

A German zoo has hired a clown to stop its monkeys getting bored. Zoo bosses got local entertainer Christina Peter, 45, to act the fool after vets said the chimps, baboons, gorillas and orangutans in zoo cages were more often sick or aggressive when they grew bored.

Christina said she keeps the animals amused by making games and puzzles for them, using footballs, plastic bags, cardboard boxes or blocks of wood among other things. She said, "When I was young I would go to a zoo and see animals and a lot of them looked bored and that made me feel very sad. Doing this makes me feel good because I am making their lives as comfortable as possible. And they seem to be enjoying it. They go wild when they see me coming because they know they're going to have some fun."

And this article, ladies and gentlemen, perfectly summarizes my current job. I am the clown for all the tech monkeys, except substitute "contracts" for "footballs, plastic bags, cardboard boxes and blocks of wood." But it's really the same concept.

Hello Crazytown

I know it goes without saying, but Ann Coulter is bat-shit crazy. Check out this recent article she wrote about the Jerry Falwell. I can't bring myself to post a picture of her, but her sage words should be sufficient:


"Jerry Falwell -- Say Hello to Ronald Reagan!"
by Ann Coulter

No man in the last century better illustrated Jesus' warning that "All men will hate you because of me" than the Rev. Jerry Falwell, who left this world on Tuesday. Separately, no man better illustrates my warning that it doesn't pay to be nice to liberals.

Falwell was a perfected Christian. He exuded Christian love for all men, hating sin while loving sinners. This is as opposed to liberals, who just love sinners. Like Christ ministering to prostitutes, Falwell regularly left the safe confines of his church to show up in such benighted venues as CNN.

He was such a good Christian that back when we used to be on TV together during Clinton's impeachment, I sometimes wanted to say to him, "Step aside, reverend -- let the mean girl handle this one." (Why, that guy probably prayed for Clinton!)

For putting Christ above everything -- even the opportunity to make a humiliating joke about Clinton -- Falwell is known as "controversial." Nothing is ever as "controversial" as yammering about Scripture as if, you know, it's the word of God or something.

From the news coverage of Falwell's death, I began to suspect his first name was "Whether You Agree With Him or Not."

Even Falwell's fans, such as evangelist Billy Graham and former President Bush, kept throwing in the "We didn't always agree" disclaimer. Did Betty Friedan or Molly Ivins get this many "I didn't always agree with" qualifiers on their deaths? And when I die, if you didn't always agree with me, would you mind keeping it to yourself?

Let me be the first to say: I ALWAYS agreed with the Rev. Falwell.

Actually, there was one small item I think Falwell got wrong regarding his statement after 9/11 that "the pagans, and the abortionists, and the feminists, and the gays and the lesbians -- who are actively trying to make that an alternative lifestyle -- the ACLU, People for the American Way, all of them who have tried to secularize America. I point the finger in their face and say, 'You helped this happen.'"

First of all, I disagreed with that statement because Falwell neglected to specifically include Teddy Kennedy and "the Reverend" Barry Lynn.

Second, Falwell later stressed that he blamed the terrorists most of all, but I think that clarification was unnecessary. The necessary clarification was to note that God was at least protecting America enough not to allow the terrorists to strike when a Democrat was in the White House.

(If you still think it isn't Christ whom liberals hate, remember: They hate Falwell even more than they hate me.)

I note that in Falwell's list of Americans he blamed for ejecting God from public life, only the gays got a qualifier. Falwell referred to gays and lesbians who are actively trying to make that an alternative lifestyle.

No Christian minister is going to preach that homosexuality is godly behavior, but Falwell didn't add any limiting qualifications to his condemnation of feminists, the ACLU or People for the American Way.

There have always been gay people -- even in the prelapsarian '50s that Jerry Falwell and I would like to return to, when God protected America from everything but ourselves.

What Falwell was referring to are the gay activists -- the ones who spit the Eucharist on the floor at St. Patrick's Cathedral, blamed Reagan for AIDS, and keep trying to teach small schoolchildren about "fisting."

Also the ones who promote the gay lifestyle in a children's cartoon.

Beginning in early 1998, the news was bristling with stories about a children's cartoon PBS was importing from Britain that featured a gay cartoon character, Tinky Winky, the purple Teletubbie with a male voice and a red handbag.

People magazine gleefully reported that Teletubbies was "aimed at Telebabies as young as one year. But teenage club kids love the products' kitsch value, and gay men have made the purse-toting Tinky Winky a camp icon."

In the Nexis archives for 1998 alone, there are dozens and dozens of mentions of Tinky Winky being gay -- in periodicals such as Newsweek, The Toronto Star, The Washington Post (twice!), The New York Times and Time magazine (also twice).

In its Jan. 8, 1999, issue, USA Today accused The Washington Post of "outing" Tinky Winky, with a "recent Washington Post In/Out list putting T.W. opposite Ellen DeGeneres and Anne Heche, essentially 'outing' the kids' show character."

Michael Musto of The Village Voice boasted that Tinky Winky was "out and proud," noting that it was "a great message to kids -- not only that it's OK to be gay, but the importance of being well accessorized."

All this appeared before Falwell made his first mention of Tinky Winky.

After one year of the mainstream media laughing at having put one over on stupid bourgeois Americans by promoting a gay cartoon character in a TV show for children, when Falwell criticized the cartoon in February 1999, that same mainstream media howled with derision that Falwell thought a cartoon character could be gay.

Teletubbies producers immediately denounced the suggestion that Tinky Winky was gay -- though they admitted that he was once briefly engaged to Liza Minnelli. That's what you get, reverend, for believing what you read in The Washington Post, The New York Times, Time magazine and Newsweek. Of course, Falwell also thought the show "Queer as Folk" was gay, so obviously the man had no credibility.

Despite venomous attacks and overwhelming pressure to adopt the fashionable beliefs of cafe society, Falwell never wavered an inch in acknowledging Jesus before men. Luckily, Jesus' full sentence, quoted at the beginning of this column is: "All men will hate you because of me, but he who stands firm to the end will be saved."

Jerry Falwell Bites the Big One

Jerry Falwell, the well-known fundamentalist Baptist minister and founder of a "college" (Liberty University) went to meet his imaginary divine maker at the age 74. By the looks of this photo, I'm guessing it was health related.

Although not bat-shit crazy like Pat Robertson or Fred Phelps, Falwell did have a few great controversial quotes (source Wikipedia):

* After the September 11, 2001 attacks, Falwell said on the 700 Club "I really believe that the pagans, and the abortionists, and the feminists, and the gays and the lesbians who are actively trying to make that an alternative lifestyle, the ACLU, People For the American Way, all of them who have tried to secularize America. I point the finger in their face and say 'you helped this happen.'"

* As for homosexuality, Falwell remarked, "AIDS is the wrath of a just God against homosexuals." Falwell's ghostwriter, Mel White, said Falwell remarked about gay protesters, "Thank God for these gay demonstrators. If I didn't have them, I'd have to invent them. They give me all the publicity I need."

* During the Civil Rights Movement Falwell was a supporter of racial segregation. He said alleged to have said this about MLK, "I do question the sincerity of people like the Reverend Martin Luther King."

* Falwell has also said "Labor unions should study and read the Bible instead of asking for more money. When people get right with God, they are better workers."

* Regarding public schools, "I hope to see the day when, as in the early days of our country, we don't have public schools. The churches will have taken them over again and Christians will be running them."

* Falwell often attributed political affiliation to the divine, claiming that God "is a Republican" and Jesus "was the First American."

His greatest contribution to Christianizing society came in February 1999, when an article in Falwell's "National Liberty Journal" suggested that that closeted Teletubbies character, Tinky Winky, was a hidden homosexual symbol. The article deduced this because the character was purple (which of course is symbolic color of homosexuality), had an inverted triangle on his head and carried a handbag.

Goodbye Jerry, we will miss your insightful and sensitive comments regarding politics, society and sexual orientation. We will surely miss you. And by "surely" I really mean "not."

Happy Mother's Day

Here's wishing all the moms and soon-to-be-moms a very happy Mother's Day. I know this is no substitute for actual Mother's Day cards, but I'm lame. But it's the thought that counts, right?

Cat Fancy

My co-workers at my old company used to play a prank on you if you left your office/cube with your computer unlocked. Basically, you would come back to find that your home page on your Internet browser had been changed to some horrible, not-safe-for-work website. The main purpose of the joke was to reiterate a basic corporate security policy of never leaving your computer unlocked. I admit that doesn't justify changing someone's homepage to some horribly graphic website, but I never said that the practice was terribly mature.

Anyway, on my visit to St. Louis I made the mistake of leaving my laptop unlocked and as luck would have it, one of my co-workers (who was the repeated subject of this practice at our old company) changed my home page unbeknownst to me. I didn't learn about it until I was just about to leave when broke down and admitted it to me, mostly so he could see my reaction.

With little time to spare before my cab picked me up to take me to the airport, I fired up Mozilla Firefox expecting to launch some awful website featuring frolicking nude men.

So imagine my surprise when I discovered that my homepage had been changed to Catfancy.com.



Not only did he change it during the 3.4 minutes I was away from my computer, but that fucker changed my home page to something that was entirely unexpected and 100% benign. Well done, B-Hug.

I should note that I still haven't changed it back to the original home page I had before. Now while I will admit that there is something soothing about looking at this photo every day and there are some very interesting cat articles ("Extra Sensory Cats - Could your cat's uncanny sense of your whereabouts be related to ESP? Click here to see how you can test your cat for ESP."), I must admit that sheer laziness probably has a huge part to do with my interia. Big surprise there, I know.

Al Reynolds Tortured By Giant Bear!!!

God, there are times when I hate the Internet. And this is one of those times. Oh well, I figure that if I had to see these horrifying photos, then my worldwide audience should share in them well.

Here are recent photos of Star Jones giving her husband Al Reynolds a lap dance at some bar at 2:00 a.m. following the Kentucky Derby. As you can see, Al appears less than thrilled by her affectionate gesture. And by "less than thrilled" I mean "horrified and repulsed." I honestly don't know which picture I love more. Is it the first one of him where he appears in total anguish? Or is it the second one where he has a resigned look of disgust?

From now on, I will thank the 8 lb. 6 oz. Baby Jesus that Star Jones was not one of the lap dance contestants at Lucky Cheng's that fateful night in April. It's a long story and the photos are fuzzy. But the memories are clear and I shudder to think what she might have done to me. Thankfully, I live on and will continue to "work" from home, pausing every 30 minutes or so to wander into the kitchen to graze incessantly. Good times.

Separated at Birth - Cate Blanchett

Cate:


.. and Ziggy Stardust:


Yes I am sticking with the lazy theme this week. Actual, original content should appear tomorrow.

Separated at Birth - Star Jones

Star Jones at this weekend's Kentucky Derby (she finished in 4th place -- well done Star!):


... and one of the bad dudes from "Big Trouble in Little China" (which is a movie classic).

Shit Louis, In a Nutshell

Boys and girls … David James is exhausted right now. I am flying back from Shit Louis, Missouri as I write this and I can barely keep my eyes open. One day after returning from Maggotfest, I had to head to the Loo’ for an all-day, technology implementation strategy session (kill me please).

The technology meeting was an utter waste of time. I totally could have dialed in to that cluster fuck call. I pretty much laid it out for them that I was not going to be traveling to St. Louis every other week like I did for a short while in 2006 (ZES got the worst of that project, though -- my apologies my man).

In order to get through Wednesday’s meetings, I had to ingest an inordinate amount of caffeine. And by inordinate, I mean “shitload.” At last count, I was up to 5 cups of coffee and 6 diet Cokes. And still, I’m nodding off in the afternoon. I wonder if it had anything to do with the subject matter -- implementation of some new “turnkey” “back office solution.” Look folks, I’m not making up these terms and I don’t personally use them, I’m just parroting them back because they were permanently etched into my memory. In fact, I kept track of the number of times “solution” and “customization” were used -- 141 times. Conversely, the term “Scarlett Johansson” wasn’t uttered a single time.

After looking at slides containing terms such as “Strategies Align with Corporate Vision,” “Business Blueprint,” and “Go Live and Support,” I was subjected to a stilted dinner with my boss and some other suffering colleagues. It mercifully ended around 8:30, after which point I was able to retire to the hotel bar to drink more with the aforementioned tortured co-workers.

Thursday included yet another 3+ hour meeting with my boss. Fuck me, why couldn’t I have drown on that whitewater rafting trip? I am pretty confident that I tortured animals in a past lifetime to deserve my current work karma.

But then, it was over. It was 3:00 and time to head to Lambert Airport. Not surprisingly, I was excited to leave Thursday but of course I had to endure the inevitable flying annoyances before I could make it home:

* I am sitting next to some over-tanned, wrinkle-saurus who keeps borrowing my magazines to read. Evidently she didn’t realize that she would be stuck on an airplane for 4+ hours with nothing to do. Fuck, what’s wrong with “Sky Mall” magazine?

* I made the mistake of using the bathroom after a guy in red shorts who ~ destroyed ~ the lavatory. Given all the chemicals and masking agents, it’s pretty fucking hard to further raise the disgusting meter. But evidently the “Little Red Crapper That Could” found a way. I’m blaming it on the pre-flight beef tacos and coffee. Well done, my man.

* I’ve experienced on-and-off turbulence for twenty minutes. I know I've mentioned this before, but there must be some travel route that doesn’t fly through the eye of whatever tornado which perches itself over the Colorado mountain range.

* Some old-ish dude just walking down the aisle just grinded my arm and shoulder with his crotch. I’m not talking about the “accidental-glance-of-my-ass-or-thigh-against-your-shoulder.” I’m talking full on “hey-birthday-boy-you-get-to-judge-the-lapdance-contest-at-Lucky-Cheng’s-restaurant-full-on-grind.” The guy just left me simpering here in my seat like Jodie Foster in "The Accused." God, I feel so dirty.

And so it went. I’m headed home to sleep … and then sleep some more. Oh, and I just signed up to play another rugby game this Saturday against a team of experienced “old boys” (i.e., 35 and older), who are usually out of shape (hooray), but dirty as shit. Oh well, should be fun. Have a great weekend kiddos and I’ll work on posting some photos/more content.

Pass the Vicodin Please

I know I sound like a broken record, but again I have to apologize for the utter lack of posting on this site in recent weeks. First, it was the birthday weekend. The birthday debauchery weekend was followed by my rugby team’s second trip to Maggotfest in Missoula, MT (more to follow below). I returned from Missoula after midnight on Sunday night. After a one day respite, I’m on another plane which is headed towards St. Louis, MO (fuck yeah!!). Oh well, at least I get free coffee and frequent flyer miles.

Maggotfest this year was fun, but not outstanding. The rugby games overall were somewhat mixed. We arrived Thursday night and went straight to the pitch in Missoula to play a “friendly” game against the home team. We traveled about 10 hours that day to get there and we arrived at the pitch (a/k/a the field) about 10 minutes before we were supposed to play. I was expecting and hoping for the advertised “friendly” game since we were traveling with only 16 players (you need 15 to play rugby) of which only 4 of them were starters. We were all exhausted and some of us had been drinking on the 3+ hour drive from Spokane to Missoula, so I figured that it was going to be ugly.

And I was correct. The Maggots absolutely rolled us. It was the most lopsided rugby loss that I had ever participated in. I scored our only try (worth 5 points), while the Maggots scored 100+ points. They stopped keeping track on the scoreboard. Most of our team quit midway in the game and the other team just kept running at us. I really don’t fault them for continuing to play, but they probably could have subbed out some of their key players earlier.

The lowlight of Thursday was followed by the Friday highlight of river rafting on the Lochsa River in Idaho. I had a total blast. The enjoyment was mitigated somewhat by the fellow rafter who insisted on yelling “Wooo hooo!!” EVERY time we hit a rapid and who complained that his feet were freezing. No shit, the river water is in the low 40s. Everyone’s cold and wet, stop being such a pussy.

Saturday’s games represented a better showing, although we had trouble scoring points all day. It was frustrating knowing we had a better team but playing down to the lower standards of the other teams. After the second game, I was counting down the minutes until my flight left on Sunday.

The highlight on Saturday was reuniting with some of my friends from Colorado to play against a ridiculously good team from Park City, UT. Like our game on Thursday, Fort Collins was playing against a team that was way out of its league. Unlike our team, though, Ft. Collins played with a lot of heart. They still lost, but they played hard and never quit. I got to “whore on” late in the second half, right before one of their players entirely faked me out and beat me to the corner to score a try. Good times. I did manage to tackle a U.S. Eagle rugby player (meaning a player who plays international level rugby for the United States) without breaking anything further on my body.

Sunday came and saw one final game, which most participants played hung-over to a 0-0 tie. Ahh, rugby at its highest. The highlight of Sunday was one of our large players (280+ lb.) who managed to play most of the game in a Winnie the Pooh costume. Classic. We headed out to the airport shortly after finishing our last game and bid a fond adieu to Montana.

Five games in four days + whitewater rafting - adequate sleep = a tired David James. I caught some sleep on the flight to St. Louis and managed to fall asleep again this evening in my hotel room but still feel exhausted. I’m putting the official over-under on my total caffeine intake at “a lot.” Keep your fingers crossed dear readers.

Pictures and more fun stuff to follow ....

Office Worker Gone Wild!

Here's what happens when you combine a small, shared office space with an asshole throwing paper clips. I'm beginning to appreciate my home office more and more each day.

I've been busy this week recovering from last week's trip and getting ready for this weekend's rugby tour in Missoula MT. Last year was a lot of fun, so I'm looking forward to this last tournament. We're headed out tomorrow to play the host team, followed by river rafting, more rugby and perhaps a bit of drinking. Should be a lot of fun. Oh, and then I go to Shit Louis for three days the following week. So I guarantee that there will be some fun travel stories to share when I get back.

Celebrity Subcaption of the Day

"David Gest, can you show me where babies come from? Well done!"

"Liquor? I barely know her..."

Relax boys and girls ... I am still alive and well. I survived the big birthday weekend in NY and had a great time. DerekB has some photos and a more detailed write up will likely follow here, but here are a few things I recently learned on my trip:

* Despite what one may think at the time, there really is no urgent reason to get pizza at 2:30 in the morning. It was good, but entirely unnecessary. Overall, I estimate that I consumed enough food to feed a small family for one month.

* While they make a pretty good motorcycle, "Harley Davidson Beef Jerky" really doesn't live up to the same standard. While the toughened, leathery consistency lived up to the "Jerky" standard, I cannot be certain that it was actually made of beef. Unless they define "beef" broadly to include roadkill.

* People are insane. I saw a man in SFO changing his clothes in the middle of the bathroom next the sinks. He was wearing only underwear -- he was standing on the floor without any shoes or socks on. Disgusting. While I'm not a fan of the able bodied using the handicapped stall, I think everyone would agree to grant this guy an exception.

I will work on a more detailed write up of the trip, which will include a summary of our visit to a drag queen cabaret bar in NY where a dancer told me "you have nice blow job lips." (I still don't have a witty comeback to that one)

Hope everyone is doing well.

My Week in a Nutshell

A lot has transpired in the past week. Basically, my company shut down the satellite office in San Francisco where I was working. This sucked for a number of reasons:

1) I had to pack up my office and I am a total pack rat.
2) I don't have a home office at home. I don't have a desk, dedicated work area ... hell, I don't even have a home phone or Internet connection. To date, I've been rely on the charity of a neighbor that has graciously donated free WiFi to me. And by "graciously" I mean "unknowingly."
3) I *really* like working in the city and love the people, pace, restaurants, etc. that comes with it. Yeah, I could have done without the tofu hot dog experience, but all in all I far prefer working in an office as compared to home.

So I've worked from home all this week (rather than drive 80+ minutes to our Silicon Valley offices) and, so far, working from home has been a bit of a challenge. Sure the commute is a piece of cake, but I've not been properly set up to work from home. I'm sure that working from my couch hunched over my coffee table hasn't been fantastic for my back. It also doesn't help that I seem to eat every 20 minutes on cue.

Yesterday, I finally fixed the situation by setting up the office, assembling a desk, setting up the computer, printer, etc. and establishing home phone service. This has pretty much eaten my work productivity, but the set up is pretty nice now. It's really quiet here and I've moved my work area away from the kitchen. It's in a corner of one of my bedrooms which overlooks some trees:



If you look closely, you can see that I'm browsing some non-work related website. Ahh, some things never change.

Back to work, at least for today. I head to DC/NY next week for my annual birthday debauchery trip with DerekB, VMD and Cap'n Tears. Hope to post something soon.

Most. Painful. Video. Ever.

-

It's usually painful to watch middle-aged white folks rap or emulate anything having to do with hip-hop culture. This video clip is no different. It's taken from the recent Radio and Television Correspondents Dinner where Karl Rove and a group of other clowns rap, dance and beat box to their little right-wing hearts' content.

Good god where do you begin when analyzing this clip? I honestly don't know what was the most appalling -- there are so many choices:

* Karl Rove warbling "MC Rove!" repeatedly in his horrible, robotic voice. He sounded like Darth Vader after years of smoking unfiltered Marlboros. I'm a grown man, but I doubt I'll sleep soundly tonight after hearing it.

* The beatbox "scratching" by comedian Colin Mochrie (whoever the hell that is) which sounds like a screeching wail of a monkey. At one point, I swear it sounded like people were making random jungle type noises. Awful.

* I cannot even comment about the "dancing" other than to say I would have preferred to have been born blind than having watched it. Twice.

Still, I think my favorite part has to be the token black guy that was assigned to dance in the back (but not talk) in order to legitimize the whole skit. I'm surprised that they didn't ask him to play the spoons. Certainly a proud moment in his life.

Okay, I'm going to go throw up now. Have a nice afternoon.

Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star ....

The trim and lovely Star Jones celebrated her 45th birthday (she doesn't look a day over 43) with a group of friend. She was accompanied by her masculine and 100% straight husband, Al about whom she once said "Allie Reynolds better not be looking at other mares!" With all that extra skin and E.T.-like face, that would normally be a pretty tall order. However, it's Al Reynolds so there's not much risk there.

I'm not sure what I love most about this picture. Is it the flappy layers of skin which makes her upper arm look like a wizard's sleeve? Or is it the clearly-pained look of Al who doesn't appear to be enjoying "The View"?

It's a close one, but I'm going with the latter. Drink up Al, it will make all the pain go away.

Vegas Baby, Vegas!!

As a follow up to a recent post, it was recently announced that Michael Jackson was reviewing plans for a 50 foot robot made in his own image which would be built in the event that he launches a show in Las Vegas.

"It would be in the desert sands," said Mike Luckman of Luckman Van Pier, consultants to large entertainment companies. "Laser beams would shoot out of it so it would be the first thing people flying would see. Neon is wonderful, but it's old school." Luckman's partner designed the robot. He has also sketched out a stage set of a giant audience-interactive video game with human cyborgs controlled by the audience. Said Luckman, "Michael's looked at the sketches and likes them."

By the looks of MJ's reddened left hand, he evidently liked the sketches and video game concepts a *lot*. Evidently the robot sketches include 25 foot naked boys which are flanked by MJ's side. God only knows where the laser beams are supposed to shoot out of. Either that or the interactive video game includes Macaulay Culkin, a shower, and a fifth of Jesus Juice.

Saturday's a Rugby Day ...

... and Sunday's a recovery day ... which has now extended into Monday. We had our last game of the regular season on Saturday, which was a hard fought loss to the SF Fog. My legs and left eye looked like the belonged on a beaten detainee at a Gitmo prison camp. Oh well, thank god for Alleve. Playoffs (maybe) to follow next week. We shall see.

And no, I am not the dude in the red and white shirt. That would be the referee.

More frequent postings to follow, including Michael Jackson's plan to build a 50 foot robot of himself in Las Vegas. The Celebrity Train Wreck is warming up and ready to leave the station again ...

Bukkake!!!

I love Japanese commercials because they're just so utterly insane. This video for Bukkake milk is no different. The bizareness of the commercial is accentuated by its outstanding translated subtitles:

"Having bright thirsty pain of wonderful desire?"
"Bukkake brand milk!"
"#1 most honorable brand, mammal juice drink!"
"Swallow! The flavor is like a fist!"
"Feline disrespect from behind!"

I don't even know what half of this shit is supposed to mean, but goddamn it's funny.

Business in the Front, Party in the Back

In the latest installation of "Redneck News of the Day, Dakota Russ, 9, won the prestigious "best mullet in Jacksonville" award. Russ stood in front of thousands of people in the pit of Jacksonville's Alltel stadium at the "Monster Jam" truck show and showed off his pride and glory: his long, raven mullet. With the "victory," Russ took home a six-foot trophy (which is topped with a little man sporting a mullet), as well as bragging rights for one year.

His parents were understandably proud of his mullet. "I was just so happy, because I had been so nervous that he would not win. We could not walk five steps without someone stopping us to get a picture," his mother said.

Some people view Russ' victory and his mullet haircut (a/k/a, the "Missouri Compromise," the "Kentucky Waterfall" and the "Camaro Cut") as a crowning achievement; others simply view it as a form of child abuse.

His mother said she has wanted to enter him into the contest for the past two years, but they were unable to make it the Jam. He plans to enter the contest in the future, but he may have some tough competition next year ... his dad may enter too.

I guess it's like the old saying goes, "the family that sports the ridiculously ugly haircut together, stays together."

Cats Attack!

I'm sure many of you have seen the infamous video clip of Pinky the Cat:



But there appears to be a new video clip featuring what appears to be Pinky's equally angry sibling:



You can just tell at the beginning of the video clips that things are going to go horribly wrong. And by "go horribly wrong," I mean "be awesome to watch."

An Open Letter To Laura Bush

Dear Laura Bush:

How big is that stick up your ass?

Warmest Regards,
David James

Dearest Salma

In response to recent less-than-flattering pictures, a representative for Salma Hayek has revealed that the actress in pregnant and engaged to French businessman Francois-Henri Pinault.

They say that true love is blind, which might explains why she:


... got knocked up by and engaged to him:


Now I'm probably being way too superficial here. Perhaps he's a sweet guy, with a penchant for romantic poetry. Maybe she was able to find the last nice, normal guy who's tired of playing "the game" and is ready to settle down. You know, maybe Salma Hayek grew tired of the Hollywood superficiality and, against all odds, was able to look past their age difference and his less-then-leading-man looks in order to be with her one true love.

Or maybe it could have something to do with the fact that he’s a billionaire. I don't know, this one is too close to judge.

The Crazy Train Has Left the Building

Stop the presses. This just in. The Jackson 5 is lined up to play 250 concerts in Las Vegas over the three years starting next year, when Jackson will be 50. Further concerts around the U.S. and the world are planned.

What, that's not even the crazy part. Evidently there are also plans to build a Michael Jackson theme park, casino, hotel and stadium in the Las Vegas. There has been talk of a museum and a stadium for Michael - complete with Jackson memorabilia, videos, rare footage, casino, rides and concert halls.

Is it just me or is giving Michael Jackson and his brothers a reported $300+ million financially unsound? And by "financially unsound," I mean bat-shit crazy. What in the fuck are these people thinking? Do the financial investors honestly think that a theme park which sells Jesus Juice and has rides such as "The Matterhorny" is a prudent investment? They would be better off burning the money or asking

God, where have I heard this crazy idea before? Oh wait, right here.

Also check out recent photos of the quintet. I think you'll find the family resemblance among Tito, Marlon, Jackie, Michael and Jermaine Jackson is uncanny.

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!

The Prophesy of Pat Roberts

Our good buddy Pat Robertson is back to his forecasting ways.

On Tuesday, Pat said that God told him during a recent prayer retreat that a terrorist attack on the United States would cause a "mass killing" late in 2007. "I'm not necessarily saying it's going to be nuclear (Ed. note: I'm certain he pronounced it "nuke-u-ler"). The Lord didn't say nuclear. But I do believe it will be something like that." Robertson also claims that God also said that major cities and possibly millions of people will be affected by the attack, which should take place sometime after September.

Holy shit, this guy talks to God so his track record has to be better than mine in my weekly "NFL Pick 'Em Pool." Hmmm, let's take a look at his ..., uhhh, I mean God's track record and let's assign a letter score to his prognostication ability.

* In January 2004, the broadcaster predicted that President Bush would easily win re-election.

Grade: C+. He was correct, Bush did win re-election and, unlike 2000, Bush actually won 51% of the vote, narrowly beating Sen. John Kerry (D-Mass). However, you would think that with God whispering in your ear, you could get a lot more specific than that. Predicting Bush would win re-election would have been like predicting that "tails will prevail" in a coin flip. Big deal.

* In 2005, Robertson predicted that Bush would have victory after victory in his second term. He said Social Security reform proposals would be approved and Bush would nominate conservative judges to federal courts. It's like predicting that a large star called "the sun" will magically rise in the East and set in the West -- each and every day of the year. Again, BFD.

Grade: C-. The Republican-led Senate did confirm Bush's 2005 nominations of right-wing fuckwits John Roberts and Samuel Alito to the Supreme Court, but Bush's inane Social Security initiative stalled and eventually died. And again, it doesn't take fucking Kreskin to predict that a conservative freak president will nominate conservative freak judges to higher courts.

* In January 2006, Robertson suggested that God punished then-Israeli Prime Minister Ariel Sharon with a stroke for ceding Israeli-controlled land to the Palestinians.

Grade: Incomplete/No Grade Assigned. This isn't even a prediction. So why did I include it? Simply to demonstrate what an asshole Pat Robertson is.

* In May 2006, Robertson said God told him that storms and possibly a tsunami were to crash into America's coastline in 2006.

Grade: F. Even though the U.S. was not hit with a tsunami, Robertson on Tuesday cited last spring's heavy rains and flooding in New England as partly fulfilling the prediction.

"I have a relatively good track record," he said. "Sometimes I miss."

Well no shit, asshole. Hitting less than 50% of your predictions does not smack of God-inspired prophesy. If Robertson could have predicted the precise day that we lost the 3,000th solider in the Iraq civil war, that would have been compelling. Fuck, even predicting a St. Louis Cardinals vs. Detroit Tiger World Series match-up during spring training would have been impressive enough.

Jesus Christ, Pat, please quit while you're ahead before you ruin your credibility and make a mockery of your God-inspired leg pressing claims, too.

What It Is, What It Was, What It Shall Be....

When I was a kid growing up in the 70's, I used to love watching bad TV game shows -- Hollywood Squares, The Joker's Wild, Tic Tac Dough, Card Sharks, you name it. One of my very favorite ones was Family Feud. I'm talking about the original one featuring Richard Dawson, not any of those shitty hacks that tried to follow in his footsteps. It was one game show where (1) it would often occur to me that I was decidedly smarter than those people that were actually on the show, and (2) Richard Dawson would never hesitate to let a contestant know (albeit nicely) how dumb they really were.

Anyway, it was some time during the late 1970's and I distinctly remember watching Family Feud in the middle of the day. I presume it was summertime, but it could have been one those days that are now referred to in the corporate world as a "personal leave day."

There were two families -- one family of European descent and one African American family. Or as it was simply described back then, the white family vs. the black family. I remember each family being a collage of bad fashion, dated hairstyles, and questionable game show answers. However, at the end of round 3 (or so), the "white" family led the "black" family along the lines of 268-0.

It's now time for the famed "Triple Score Round" (a/k/a "Let's finally finish up this game so we can show some goddamned commercials").

Richard Dawson begins to speak. "The top five answers are on the board. Name a slang term for a police officer."

BUZZ!!

"Cop" says the one guy from the black family.

"Survey says ....."

DING!!

"Cop is the #1 answer," says Dawson. "Do you want to play or pass?"

"We'll play, Richard," the family member confidently states.

Richard asks each family member the same question, "name a slang term for a police officer" and the proceed to reel off the remaining answers in order of popularity and without getting a single strike:

"Fuzz"
"Heat"
"Pig"
"The Man"

And it just so happened that those were the only five responses, so the black family ended up winning 300-268. I remember it was pretty funny at the time, because the other family just stood there looking entirely stunned, thinking they had the game in the bag.

While I realize that there are probably some profound - and perhaps disturbing - sociological conclusions to be drawn from this episode, what really strikes me even years later was the jargon used back then. Certainly cop is still commonly used, but whatever happened to the more 70's-esque terms -- "heat," "pig" and "fuzz?" Or what about other great 70's terms, like "far out," "groovy," and "right on?" What ever happened to those?

Sure, some 70's terms are used still to this day (e.g., dude, awesome, disco). But there are so many great 70's colloquial expressions that have virtually disappeared and which, sadly, could soon be extinct one day.

So I decided that my 2007 New Year's resolution would be to bring back some of the 70's slang. Don't get me wrong, I'm just talking about the expressions, not the clothing, music or hairstyle. I'm really going to make an effort to sprinkle it into every day conversation as well as the blog. Special requests are, of course, welcome and encouraged.

And maybe, just maybe, we'll see a resurgence in the use of terms such as "foxy," "solid" and "can you dig it."

And as an extra bonus, here's a fantastic clip of Richard Dawson absolutely losing it and unable to compose himself on a Family Feud episode. I am certain he was hammered at the time, but that doesn't take away from the awesome-ness of this clip.

Dy-no-mite.

Is it 2007 Yet?

Hello kiddies ... I hope this message finds you doing well and recovering from the Christmas bloat. Christmas was good and relaxing. The kids had a great time and Santa was generous enough to leave me a dead bird on my front porch. I guess he couldn't make his way in because I don't have a chimney, so he decided to leave the pear tree-less partidge on the stairs outside of my front door. Either that, or it's some sort of subliminal mob gesture. In either event, I'm flattered that someone would be so thoughtful to get me the gift that no one else thought of. Well done.

Merry (Early) Christmas

Knowing my propensity for posting stuff on a timely basis and the likelihood that I will be offline this weekend, I wanted to wish everyone a happy holiday season.

My old roommate in Denver was Australian, so I found this skit involving Hugh Jackman and the "Christmas Kangaroo" particularly humorous. Plus, Will Ferrell is great. So if this video doesn't amuse you, then there it's not me, it's you.

Merry Christmas everyone.

Best Regards,

David James

The Fruitcake Lady

Despite being the season for lackadaisical work efforts, my employer is actually pressuring me to work. How novel is that?

So you know that that means. It's time, yet again, to pass off a three minute YouTube video as interesting content. Shhh, let's hope they don't notice.

I understand that the "Fruitcake Lady" appears on the Tonight Show, although I would have no idea as I haven't watched it since I was nine. But she's pretty funny nonetheless. My favorite quote occurs around minute 2:47. Enjoy. I'll try to have something new and/or interesting tomorrow.

New Laptop: Day 2

Dear IT Department:

Thank you for your timely response to my trouble ticket. Okay, I have to admit it that you haven't actually contacted me for 2 days -- let alone fixed my problems. But I thought that by thanking you in advance, you would actually be kind enough and respond to my cry for help. I hoped that kindness and patience would prevail over rage and threats of bodily injury.

Anyway, if I were to ask Santa Claus for one gift this year (other than the previously-requested world peace and Scarlett Johansson's virginity), it would be that one of your fine technicians would actually respond to my open trouble ticket and help me walk through the configuration of my new work laptop.

Don't get me wrong, I am honored that my company would actually spend $450 on a new Dell laptop. I'd like to think that you responded quickly to my complaint that I could no longer read the screen on my current Etch-O-Sketch laptop. In reality, it was probably the email rant where I noted that I was going blind from trying to read contracts on a goddammned pixilated screen. But that's water under the bridge now. My vision is returning to normal and I now have the fancy, newish (read: refurbished) laptop to use.

Well, at least use in theory. You see, it's not quite working properly, hence my call into our IT help desk to open a trouble ticket. Since the IT brainiac in St. Louis (i.e., Silicon Armpit) couldn't figure it out over the phone, it appears that my company is entrusting me to fully configure the new laptop, including, installing and setting all of the software, firewalls, security settings, systems tools, files, folders, backup data, and the like. I'm honored. It's kind of like when Pak'n Save entrusts you to responsibly pack your own groceries. Except, of course, that a computer contains years of important files and documents and is a wee bit more complicated to figure out than remembering the simple rule of "pack eggs and bread on top." But who doesn't like a challenge?

Anyway, if you could respond this year, that would be great. I'll be the guy in his office stealing WiFi from another building because the fucking network connection doesn't work on this piece-of-shit laptop.

Very Best Regards and Merry Christmas,

David James

One Week Until Christmas ....

Sorry for the delay in posting. I have been busy dealing with a bunch of stuff pertaining to the house, moving, work, etc., as well as struggling to configure and update a new work laptop after my old one died.

Anyway, to answer the various questions that have been asked over the past week or so:

* I officially move in on Wednesday
* The hot tub seats 7
* Sadly there is no stripper pole in the new house (sorry AJH)
* There are no new rugby injuries to report after Saturday's game
* For Christmas I would like world peace and Scarlett Johansson's virginity

Anyway .... I've always been a fan of those old Christmas specials that I watched as a child - "Charlie Brown Christmas," "A Year Without a Santa Claus" ... you name it. Well, except for that lame "Nestor the Long-Eared Donkey." Anyway I somehow stumbled across this video, which analyzes "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer" and illustrates what an asshole Santa Claus is. My favorite quote is when he tells Rudolph’s father that he "should be ashamed of yourself" for having a reindeer child with such a deformity.

I kind of knew that there was something wrong about him given the fact that Santa maintained a colony of slave...., uhh, I mean "indentured servant" elves. But I didn't realize what a tool he was before watching this video. Enjoy.

You're So Money and You Don't Even Know It

This video clip from the movie "Swingers" is, without question, the most painful, difficult to watch scene from any movie ever made. It could be just a guy thing, but I simply cringe every time I see it. Even now -- ten years after it first came out -- I can barely stand to sit through the entire scene. The Ned Beaty rape scene from "Deliverance" is far easier for me to watch. Hell, I would rather watch a homemade Star Jones sex tape than this scene.



However, there is one Star Jones video clip I could watch over and over again: