Random Thoughts and Musings From Suburbia....


Let's Go Bears!
Hmmm.......what to write?

I think I'll just use one of my blogs from my MySpace blog to start out for now. So here goes nothing:

Memory Lane has kind of a lot of potholes.

Flipping through the digital-cable programming guide, trying to find something to tidy up the house by, I settled on VH-1 Classic, the existence of which I had forgotten despite various people extolling its virtues to me in the past.

It probably goes without saying that not much tidying has gotten done. I came in right before the We Are The '80s programming block got started and I really haven't moved since, except to refill my Diet Coke, which I did without taking my eyes off the screen, because an Italian restaurant's tablecloth had assaulted Bob Geldof.

I graduated from high school in 1986, and I saw some of these videos a hundred times, probably. Obviously I never questioned the clothing, or the hair, or why the zombies in that Billy Idol song couldn't just take the elevator instead of climbing the side of the building (actually, maybe they're vampires, and come to think of it, I'm not sure Billy Idol wasn't a vampire also…or maybe it had nothing to do with the undead…like so many videos of that era, it's tough to say definitively what the ---- is going on). I just watched them, even for songs I hated.

Some of the songs I grew to hate after the video had gone into heavy rotation for a few weeks. "I Don't Like Mondays" isn't one of those songs -- frankly, I can't remember having heard it before, ever, before today -- and I can see why it got passed over for the dozen-airings-a-day treatment. Geldof is weirdly uncharismatic, he got trampled by Plaidzilla, and the other Boomtown Rats all have the fedora-perched-on-back-of-head/pajama-pants-with-high-top-Chucks combo going on. Brutal.

Flawless time capsule, though, really, of both Thatcher-era British set design -- which apparently required mis-lighting the set and dressing it in ugly beige flocked wallpaper -- and of video storytelling at the dawn of MTV. Pose the band at seemingly random, but actually careful intervals in a large white room; angle the camera and pull in for a tight close-up while the band lip-synchs intensely and wears sunglasses; voila, post-heartbreak emotional death.

Another popular inspiration for '80s videos: apocalypse. "99 Luft Balloons" is not a bad song, but it's on every single '80s compilation CD and is overplayed and annoying as a result, and the heavy-handed symbols, coupled with the wedding-video-sponsored-by-ConAgra production values, make it seem longer and tween-er than it is already.

"99 Luft Balloons" (…look, that's how the VH-1 brain trust spells it in the credits) also points up a motif in '80s videos, namely the impossible task of playing the keyboard believably. Take the average Bon Jovi offering: everyone is fake-playing their instruments, and by and large they can get away with it, because it's the guitar, or the drums. Jon Bon is flying around on guy wires, Richie Sambora is hatha-yogaing away on the guitar solo, you know it's not real but they can sell it. And then the camera cuts to David Bryan playing a D-major chord really hard and making a "hells yeah" face, each hand a pointedly tensed claw of deeply felt musical emotion all "I am Lord Vader and this assortment of Casio keyboards is my pod, where I feel safe but so, so alone," and it's a keyboard, is the thing. If it's an actual piano, I can let it go; the piano is in fact a percussion instrument and you do occasionally have to do a rocking fugue on the bench to get things done. You don't have to do that with an '80s keyboard that probably doesn't have pressure-sensitivity technology yet.

So the Nena keyboarder has the unenviable job of selling us on the idea that his giant red Mad-Maxerchief is actually strangling him, so he must fight for his life! Go tell Aunt Rhody I'm kicking some A**! Rrrrrrrrawhhh!

Dear sir: No.

As if reading my mind, the next video went lights-up with a moody shot of a real piano in a studio, and I said out loud, "This doesn't look like the Bruce Hornsby videos I reme-- holy crap, 'Valotte'!"

Julian Lennon was a pretty major whoop back then, but I had forgotten "Valotte" entirely, although evidently that's the name of the album. "Too Late For Goodbyes" was the one that took over for an entire season; I remember running laps in basketball practice while that song was reverberating all around me. (It's not a fond memory.)

Whatever happened to this guy? The video is not anything to write home about, but the song isn't bad of its era, and it's just him singing, which is a refreshing change, '80s-wise, from the "we're standing angrily in a field, wearing neon trenchcoats and slippers that look like animal feet while surreal stuff happens in the background" visual vocab. He looked and sounded really startlingly like his father, so if Sir McCartney's career could survive a decade of chintzily executed arrangements, why didn't Julian Lennon's?

…Shoes? Who the ----? I have never heard the song before in my life, and it's decent, actually, but when did Jackson Browne and Mark Hamill have a kid together and make him the lead singer of a band?



Let's Go Bears!
Next up, the obligatory synthy adult-contempo '80s love letter from a rehab-grad '70s supergroup to their neglected kids from their first marriages, which will then become a wedding song and Rasputin its way into the culture: ELO's "Telephone Line." I have a lot of respect for Jeff Lynne as a producer and music-industry survivor, but he looks like someone dipped his head in a bowl of pubic hair, and the song is no "Don't Bring Me Down," God knows. And once again the keyboardist is running through 1,423 Faces To Make While Pinching A Loaf, with the occasional page taken from Caught J---ing Off: A Memoir.

"The Heat of the Moment" is an excellent song, but VH-1 calling Asia "visionaries" is perhaps pushing it.

Aw, "Papa Don't Preach." That video was a huge effing deal at the time: Madonna coming out of the Material Girl phase and into the platinum era; videos that told stories or looked like short films; actors in videos. I can't remember exactly, but I think this one came out in '86 or '87, and you could tell even at the time that we were coming out of First-Term Reagan Eighties with the Nu-Ro and the green-screening and the post-punk, into the Bush I Eighties with the big hair and the lite metal and the agreement to stop caring about the Eagles' solo projects.

I don't recall finding the father of Madge's child hot before, but he is. He's like one of those dudes down in Brighton Beach whose ten-dollar street-table sweater is so offensive that you don't notice his face, and then you see that he's a fox and you feel like inviting him on a date to the Gap. Green hoodie, my treat!

I do wonder who takes a pregnancy test under a girder of the BQE. Isn't "the bathroom" the usual venue for this? While she's in there, she might look into a more aggressive facial depilation strategy, because that is some Groucho action right there. But the video really is a classic. We would never see this kind of set design now, her rundown kids' bedroom with the giant Pink Panther toy.

Ohhhhhhhh dude. Cheap Trick's "The Flame." We literally could not escape this song in -- damn, when did this come out? Summer of '88? It might have been earlier than that, because I don't remember anything else for sure from '88 but Def Leppard, and this song came before that, I think. It's a ----e song and I hadn't missed it, although props to the guy with the five-necked guitar, but man, did we have to sit through a lot of grainy b/w videos about how exhausting it is to rock and roll -- this one, "Dead or Alive," the whole band sitting around just gassed by the demands of fame. Hasn't aged well.

Peter Gabriel looks so young in "Big Time." Hugely famous, groundbreaking video for a Gabriel song I don't dig as much as "Sledgehammer", and it doesn't seem like a big whoop anymore but they used to talk about this animation like it was Citizen Kane.

Diamond Dave, I miss your tight pants and kooky jumps. Still, "Jump" is a relatively boring video; I love the song, and Alex "Human Muppet" Van Halen bugging out in a drum set that looks like Panopticon (look it up on Wikipedia) as envisioned by Keith Moon is pretty cool, but they should have a little movie with it. We don't need all these loving close-ups of Eddie when he's really not doing all that much. A video for "Eruption," that I would watch all day. I already know David Lee Roth can do the splits.

Lita Ford and Ozzy = perfect time for a pee break. It's nice to see Ozzy (and his perm) looking a little younger and more alert, but I never liked the song. I realized too late that I should have gutted this one out and gone to the bathroom during "The Longest Time," in which Billy Joel and his high-school-reunion friends over-romanticize fifties doo-wop. And sing some of it in the men's room. Obviously.

Sensing my irritation, the programmer threw out "Burning Down the House" next. It's a pretty cool video that has aged well, just like the Heads themselves, and I've always loved David Byrne's face superimposed on the house and the road and stuff.

Prince Featuring Sheena Easton: "U Got The Look." Prince is amazing. He looks like a tiny, ugly girl, but he's still HOT. Surprisingly, I still like the song, too, although Sheila E's outfit is a disaster.

Contrast that with one of the stars of the next video, "The Reflex" -- John Taylor, who looks like a big, pretty girl and is not that hot. All my friends loved that dude; if you went down a row of locker doors at school, it was John Taylor, John Taylor, John Taylor, Stefan Edberg, John Taylor, John Taylor, Emilio, John Taylor. I never got it; Simon LeBon wasn't exactly lumberjack masculine with the sixteen studded belts over the Z Cavariccis, but at least he didn't look like a Barbie, or one of those yellowing hairstyle cards in the front window of the salon nobody goes to in your neighborhood.

"China Girl" is less messed up than I remembered, believe it or not. It's strange to see it now, though, because this video was my introduction to David Bowie, which makes me sound Amish, but it came out when I was about eleven, and I genuinely had no clue about Bowie or what he'd done before. I just looked at this video all, "What is this Norwegian lady doing on my TV?" Of course, when he hucked that huge dream-sequence bowl of noodles into the air in slo-mo, I was unfazed, but I had context for that; I had no context for Bowie at that time.

I had no context for Rod Stewart, either, but the years since "Young Turks" haven't really changed my mind. I hate Rod Stewart; his voice drives me bazoo, and always with the prancing, uch. Hate. MTV played "Young Turks," and the one where he's spying on that girl, non-stop for three years, and I still can't take hearing either of them.

A phone call forced me to mute the TV for a little while, but out of the corner of my eye, I could see what I was missing, to wit: "Red Red Wine" (thank God), "Let Love Rule" (that's an '80s song? Really? …Hey, Lenny Kravitz was really cute), the VH-1 Storytellers version of "Miss Me Blind" (Boy George's big-hat thing really has got to stop), and "Blue Jean" (more Bowie? Did he die or something?).

I hung up just in time for the interminable concert-footage version of "In Your Eyes." Lord, that song. Peter Gabriel is wearing a weird something or other, and while at least we're spared any further lionization of Lloyd Dobler, Thinking Woman's Stalker, the song is mercilessly overplayed as it is.

Next comes Brice Springsteen's "Dancing in the Dark". I hadn't even seen the video in ten years, probably. I'd forgotten how good the song really is; we'd all gotten so sick of everything on the "Born in the USA" album by the time I went to college that I haven't heard most of the tracks in fifteen years, at least, but this is a great song. And Bruce looks great. Young, really young, and wearing a really tight pair of jeans -- he is not my thing, by and large, but he has a nice butt in this video. …And here's Courteney Cox. Hee, she's got her jeans French-cuffed. Hilarious.

I think that if you took a poll of Americans around my age, and you asked them to name the first music video they could think of, as fast as they could, "Dancing In The Dark" would win. I don't know why, quite, and I can think of plenty of other videos that people might name instead -- "Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)," "Smells Like Teen Spirit," "Hot For Teacher" -- but for whatever reason, I think that if you put people on the spot and asked them to name a video, more of them would name this one.

News of the disturbing: Rick Springfield was recently on tour with Loverboy, Eddie Money, and Scandal. I'll just take this opportunity to observe that Mike Reno could use the cardio, from what I've seen lately (I don't think he could squeeze into those red leather pants now if his life depended on it...), and to argue the case for Rick Springfield, because I own "The Best of Rick Springfield" -- no surprise, given my "taste" in "music," probably -- and I have to tell you, it's underrated. Well, not "Jessie's Girl," because we're all so over that song that we're under it, and "Taxi Dancing" is just inexcusable, but if you don't own the album, you can't listen to "Affair of the Heart," and you certainly can't rock out to "Affair of the Heart" in the car, and get busted doing so at a red light in your hometown, by another driver that you think you might actually know because she's maybe friends with your mom, while you are belting the song like an idiot, on a verse lyric that is, no lie, about how this woman bites Rick Springfield during her orgasms, and not a veiled lyric, either, like, there is literally zero doubt as to what he's talking about, so you have two choices: you can step on the accelerator and veer into the gas station on the corner and kill yourself in a giant fireball, or you can roll down the window and continue singing the song to this lady who could be your mom's friend like she's the jerk for not singing along, punctuating the line "so don't try to tell me you think it's just physical" with an offended "stop compartmentalizing your feelings for Rick Springfield by listening to NPR, because you know you love him" finger-point. And obviously you do the second thing. And obviously by "you do" I mean "I did," and that actually happened, and when I got to my parents' house five minutes later, my mom was like, "Why is your face all red?"

My face is getting red again right now. Lord, that was ridiculous. No more '80s music for me today.


Let's Go Bears!
A known fact from our experiences is that toast always lands butter side down. We also know that cats always land on their feet. Let's start taking advantage of this!



Let's Go Bears!
ome kindergarten kids were asked:

To which direction is the bus heading?

Do you know the answer ?

There are only 2 possible answers : left and right.


You still don't know the answer? Scroll down.....

OK. I'll tell you. The kindergarten kids answered "left".

When asked why, they said:

- Because you can't see the doors.

Feeling kinda stupid right now, huh ? I know, me too.



Let's Go Bears!
OK, so recently, our house has become over-run with clothing we no longer need....maternity clothes that I hardly wore (I bought WAY too many), baby clothes that Jack has already outgrown, etc.

I have therefore decided to sell them on eBay, as most of them have had no usage and still look good. Plus, I'm too lazy and too tired to lug them all to a resale shop.

This beings me to my latest issue with stupid people. They never listen to you. Ever.

As a little kid, I used to watch Electric Company every day -- PBS aired it in a block with Sesame Street and Mr. Rogers. I remember a lot of the skits and punchlines from the show, and of course Morgan Freeman as Easy Reader, but the segment that I recall the most vividly is the sweet rolls segment. Anyone else remember that one?

Basically, a guy in a diner orders coffee and a sweet roll, and the waitress tells him they're out of sweet rolls, so the guy asks for orange juice and a sweet roll instead, and the waitress repeats patiently that they're out of sweet rolls, so the guy asks for tea and a sweet roll, and the waitress is like, dude -- out of sweet rolls over here, so the guy asks for milk and a sweet roll, and it just goes on and on and on like that, the guy ordering every possible beverage and a sweet roll and the waitress informing him at increasing levels of volume that they are out of sweet rolls, until finally the guy shrugs, "Okay, then I'll…just have a sweet roll," and the waitress runs out of the room, shrieking in despair.

In the last two weeks, I have shouted "WE ARE OUT OF SWEET ROLLS" in the direction of eBay no fewer than 17,418 times. (Seriously. Around about the three hundredth time, I started to slowly lose my mind.)

What is wrong with people? No, really -- I'd like to know. I'd like to know how many times your mother has to not just drop you on your head as an infant but fire you onto your head out of a cannon before statements like "I only ship within the U.S." become hopelessly vague and unclear, inspiring you to abuse the "ask the seller a question" function by bombarding me with queries that I have already answered right there in the item description.

Just to review: I only ship within the U.S.

"What about Canada?"

What about Canada?

"Well, if you only ship within the continental U.S., and technically Canada is on the same continent as --"

No no no, see, I ship anywhere in the U.S., but here's the thing. Canada? Not in the U.S. Not a state. I checked, and hey, what do you know -- it's a country. Also, you can tell I don't ship to Canada, because if I did ship to Canada, I would have checked off the box that says I ship to Canada. Which I didn't. Because I don't.

"Oh. You know, a lot of people mean to check off that box, and they forget, so I thought maybe you, like, forgot to check it off and you would actually ship to Canada, because you forgot. To check it off. The box, I mean. So…did you? Forget? To check it off?"


"So what have you got against Canada?"

Well, lady, I didn't "have" anything "against Canada" until you, a Canadian, had a total inability to read simple instructions and believe that they applied to her. Now I've got something against Canada. Namely…you. Furthermore, we are out of sweet rolls.

"Hi. I had a question about your auction."


"Well, I live in England."


"And I was wondering if you would ship there. To England. Where I live."

Hold on a minute here, let me just check something…no, just as I suspected, England is not a state. So, no, I won't ship there.

"But I'm American! I just live in England!"

The shipping isn't based on citizenship. It's based on, you know, where you actually live. You actually live in England, which is a country, versus New England, which you may have confused it with, and which is a region, in the U.S., where I do ship, as opposed to other countries. Like England.

"But I already bid on it! Now what am I supposed to do?"

I don't know, sir -- go out for fish and chips? Fix yourself a spot of tea? Buy a world atlas? Kill yourself? You live IN ENGLAND! And we are out! Of! Sweet rolls!



Let's Go Bears!
If Guys Came With Serial Numbers.....

Internal Memo
From: ---- Manley, COO, Guy Corporation
To: Customer Service, Sales
Cc: Marketing, Public Relations
For immediate distribution

Just a quick heads-up on the latest round of product recalls, folks. Last month's union work stoppages continue to take their toll in terms of product quality, and we'll have to call in a number of models that came off the line with defects, as well as notifying the appropriate news organizations.

Don't forget to assure contacts and customers that The Guy Corporation maintains a solid commitment to quality and customer service.

Model # 2425S: Smothering Guy. A number of retailers have reported that a packaging defect makes it difficult for retail consumers to distinguish between Smothering Guy and Stalking Guy, so we've pulled all Smothering Guys until Marketing can iron out the problem internally. The sales team should keep retailers in the loop on the corrected labeling, which will make the difference between "annoying" and "downright creepy" more explicit.

Model #4229S: Don't Fence Me In Guy. Our call centers are swamped with complaints about this one; apparently, users can't get the early-warning feature to function correctly.

Model #4230S: I Need My Space Guy. Similar problem. The 4230S keeps bailing on relationships out of nowhere to spend six months getting high with his college friends and sleeping with skanky bartenders, and because the early-warning feature isn't working properly, it voids the warranty.

Model #2380F: I Failed As A Frat Thug Because I'm Too Puny, So I'm Going To Play The Sensitive "I Genuinely Empathize With Women's Issues" Angle To Get Laid Guy. A simple manufacturing defect; notify consumers and retailers that they can return the 2380F to our customer-service center, and we'll repair the eyes so that they don't roll during Ani DiFranco shows. Shipping is free.

Model #1442: Mama's Boy Guy. Certain 1442s in the March shipping batch occasionally do their own laundry, which is causing a lot of confusion for the users; they think they accidentally brought home My Best Friend Is My Mom Guy (#1446B) and then they can't understand why the 1442 keeps asking what's for breakfast. Ordinarily, this wouldn't pose a customer-service problem -- after all, the users aren't complaining, exactly -- but the 1446B is the more expensive model, and we should encourage the users to upgrade instead.

Model #9923X: Thrill Of The Chase Guy. Evidently, late-model 9923X Guys keep calling long after they've slept with the user; a few have even gotten married. We didn't notice the problem for several months, but when first-quarter sales of 9923X took a sharp nosedive, we did our own performance testing just in case, and there's no doubt about it -- the Guys just don't get bored and move on the way they're supposed to, and our wholesalers can't move the overstock. We considered offering the users a patch, but elected to take a loss on the batch instead. And to answer your question, the security team is indeed investigating possible industrial sabotage.

Replacement Part #466: Elbow Spring [for Model #6621, Give Me A Hummer While I Watch The Game Guy]. The legal department has instructed us to offer a full refund, no questions asked.

Model #5593: Got A Dog In Order To Pick Up Chicks Guy. An entire pallet of these shipped with Lhasa Apsos. Please notify wholesalers that we'll supply a more butch dog, no charge.

Model #3433V: We Have Sex, We Go Everywhere Together, My Mom Loves You, And I Take Care Of You When You Get Sick, But We Still Don't Have A Relationship Guy. Another packaging problem. Many users miss the "may say 'I love you' when drunk, and may act like it, but will not cop to it, ever" fine print on the bottom of the box; marketing has suggested a box insert.

Model #1168: I'll Pull Out In Time Guy. The 1168s do not, in fact, pull out in time. Production is suspended pending reformatting of the control mechanism.

Model #8834: Trying Too Hard To Impress Guy. Manufacturing assures me that the sealant problem is corrected, but users report that the 8834 gets annoying far too quickly. All warranties will be honored; service reps should offer users who contact the call center a coupon for the RP #499 Sense Of Humor Destabilizer.

Model #4777I: Condescending Older Guy. The 4777I is listed with over a hundred patronizing turns of phrase and dated expressions, but due to a programming bug, the dated expressions feature doesn't function. We've recalled unsold stock; users who have already bought the 4777I can choose between a programming patch or a complimentary upgrade to In My World, "Mentor" Means "Moron" Guy (#7223).

Model #3994: I Will Tell You That You "Put Up Walls," Touch You Tenderly On The Cheek, And Then Sleep With Approximately Seven Thousand Other Women Because "You Leave Me No Choice But To Get On With My Emotional Life" Guy. Insufficient on-site testing. Production suspended until further notice.

Model #2004L: Bickering = Foreplay Guy. Users report that bickering continues well into coitus. The override function on later models doesn't work. Users and wholesalers should ship their 2004Ls to our service center for repair.

Model #4488: I Own Three Cats, And Barbra's Farewell Concert On DVD, But I Refuse To Admit That I Just Don't Dig Girls That Way Guy. Wholesale customers should ship dead stock back to our service center for a credit. Users just aren't buying this one no matter how far retailers mark it down.

Model #8711R: Now That You Make More Money Than I Do, I've Turned Into A Raving Jerk Guy. Late-model 8711Rs aren't good enough in bed to justify the purchase. We've also had complaints about the door-slamming deactivation feature not functioning.

Model #8214: We've Slept Together, So You Obviously Want To Marry Me, And I'll Have To Hide Under My Bed Now Guy. Several users have split the 8214's head open with an axe and then demanded warranty coverage. All 8214s have been called back for more explicit labeling.


Let's Go Bears!
Hey guys....memorize these helpful tips, and soon you too, can have the girl of your dreams!

Not really, but I saw these on a site and thought they were pretty hilarious.

1.) When she asks how she looks, shrug and say, "could be better". This will keep her on her toes and girls love that.

2.) Never hold her hand. This could be interpreted as a sign of weakness. If she grabs your hand, squeeze hers really hard till she cries. This will impress her by showing her what a strong man you are.

3.) Once a month, sneak up on her from behind and knock her over. Girls are like dogs; they love to be roughed up.

4.) Call her in the middle of the night to ask if she's sleeping. If she is, say, "you better be". Repeat this four or five times till morning. This will show her you care.

5.) When she is upset about something, suggest to her that it might be her fault. This will pave the way for her own personal improvement. And every girl needs some improvement.

6.) Recognize the small things as they usually mean the most. Then when she's sleeping, steal all her small things and break them, because jewelry is for tacky people and Asian ladies.

7.) If you're talking to another girl, make sure she's looking. When she is, stare into her eyes, mouth the words "screw you" and grab the other girl's butt. Girls love competition.

8.) Introduce her to your friends as "some chick". Women love those special nicknames.

9.) Play with her hair. Play with it HARD.

10.) Warm her up when she's cold...and not by giving her your jacket because then you might get cold. Instead, look her in the eyes and say, "If you don't stop complaining about the cold right now, you're going to be complaining about a black eye". The best way to get warm is with fear.

11.) Take her to a party. When you get there, she'll have to go to the bathroom (they always do). Leave immediately. Come back right when the party is dying and yell at her the whole way home for ditching you all night.

12.) Make her laugh. A good way to do this is if she has a small pet. Kick the pet. I always find stuff like that funny...why shouldn't girls?

13.) Let her fall asleep in your arms. When she's fast asleep, wait ten minutes then jump up and scream in her ear. Repeat until she goes home and then you can use your arms for more important things. (Like basketball or video games)

14.) Spit often. I hear girls love guys that spit.

15.) If you care about her, never tell her. This will only give her self-confidence, then you can't turn her into the object she deep down desires to be.

16.) Take her out to dinner. Right when she's about to order, interrupt and say, "No, she's not hungry". Make her watch you eat. Girls love a guy that speaks for her.

17.) Look her in the eyes and smile. Then give her a really hard nougie on her head. Girls love a spontaneous guy.

18.) Give her one of your t-shirts and make sure it has your smell on it (but not a sexy cologne smell...a bad smell). You know what I'm talking about.

19.) Snap her bra strap. A lot.

20.) If you're listening to music, and she asks to hear it, tell her no. This way she'll think you're mysterious.

21.) Remember her birthday, but don't get her anything. Teach her that material objects aren't important. The only thing that's important is that she keeps you happy, and your happiness is the greatest present she can ever get.

22.) When she gets you a present for your birthday, Christmas, or whatever, take it and tell her you love it. Then the next time you know she's coming over on a trash day, leave the trash can open and have the present visibly sticking out of the can. Girls actually don't like this one that much, but I think its funny.


23.) If she's mad at you for not calling when you say you will, promise her that you will call her at a certain time of the day. This will make sure that she waits by the phone. Tell her that when you call you're going to tell her a special surprise. Now she'll be really excited. Don't call.



Let's Go Bears!
Just came across this on YouTube. Man, I used to LOVE this song back in the day.....oh, to be young again: :dang:

The best part of this album was the poster that came with the album. It was a pic of him in the shower. JACKPOT! :D

I had to hide mine in between my mattresses, lest Mom find it, (Mom thought he was "overly sexual" and borderline Satanic) but it was cool to sneak it out once in a while to take a peek.


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Let's Go Bears!

Having very few hours of uninterrupted time from the baby, and having to endure countless minutes of mindless television while Jack drinks his formula has allowed me to catch up on some old pastimes.

Sleeping in until 8:30 AM (OK, I'm being sarcastic with that one...), staying up until three AM doing Major House Cleaning until Jack finally goes to sleep, and most of all, watching the Price is Right. We all do it, whether or not we like the show. It’s pretty much the only thing to do at 11 AM during a weekday while baby Jack gobbles down his mid-morning snack. After having spent the past month or so watching the Price is Right, I’ve made a few observations about the show that I figured I would share with you:

- Bob Barker has the most bizarre skin tone of any human being I’ve ever seen. It’s beyond the fake-orange tan that is rocked by celebrities such as Lindsay Lohan. No, he’s more burnt sienna than anything. I like the sound of that…Burnt Sienna Barker…I could see painting my living room that color.

- What the heck is the deal with his super skinny microphone and the million foot long cord it is on??? This is the twenty-first century, we have wireless technology! I think it’s going to take one of the old ladies getting up on stage and taking a header for them to change that up.

- Who the ---- wants a year’s worth of Centrum Silver??? The only time I’ve seen them give out a year’s worth of something and it be halfway decent was a week ago when they gave away a year’s worth of Krispy Kreme donuts. Too bad the heavy guy lost the Showcase Showdown.

- I find it ironic that Bob Barker encourages people to spay and neuter their pets when he has probably nailed all of his “beauties”. Speaking of which, these girls look hot from a distance, but once you get a close-up, yeesh! I thought Mary Hart had a lot of work done. I’m surprised the “beauties’” faces don’t melt under the studio lights.

- People who cry when they get on the show have to be the biggest losers in the world. Is your life so devoid of purpose that the most exciting thing that can happen to you is to get on a game show and possibly win a new dining room set???

- Finally, why is it that the “beauties” always have to wear one-piece bathing suits? Let’s not kid ourselves; they are not there for the remarkable abilities to rub their hands up and down a box of Corn Flakes. They are there to be pieces-of-a**.

Alright, so that’s my take on the Price is Right. I know a lot of people out there who are huge fans might not like what I had to say, but take a good look at the show the next time you watch it. You’ll see then how right I am. :D




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The Internet is probably the most powerful communication medium that has ever existed in the history of man. It has the power to connect people all over the world in a manner of seconds. Yet, despite all of the positives that the Internet can bring into our society, it appears to be making us even more stupid.

How is this do you ask? Well, just go to a site like YouTube and type in the words "banana" and "fire". What is the first video you find? Some A-hole in a banana suit, who douses himself in rubbing alcohol and proceeds to light himself on fire.

Naturally he burns up pretty fast and his idiot friends try feebly attempt to put out the flames with a garden house. After watching the moron burn for a bit, the video cuts to Mr. Crispy in the shower, telling kids “don’t play with matches” and regretting ever doing such a stupid thing.

My question is, how can people in this day and age not know that fire is bad? I honestly wonder if this tool thought nothing would happen after lighting himself on fire? I sincerely hope he somehow damaged his reproductive organs so the future will be spared his just-as-likely-to-be-stupid offspring.

Now the Internet isn’t just a place for stupidity- it is also a place for some of the most disgusting, perverted things you’ll ever see.

For example, on the multimedia site Ebaumsworld, you can see a video of some motard named Richard Leigh having sex with a pizza. I kid you not. This sexual deviant goes into detail describing how having sex with a pizza is exactly like engaging in sexual intercourse with a woman.

Call me crazy, but I somehow doubt it can be similar in any way. And the Internet is filled with videos of people having sex with inanimate objects. People, get it straight: sex is meant to be had with another living, human being, not everyday household objects! If you are having trouble finding another real person to have sex with, there is something called masturbation. Look into it: Don’t just reach for the nearest food item and start going at it.

In finishing, I am begging dumb people out there to please think twice before you think about doing something stupid and putting it on the Internet. I don’t really need to see the twisted and freaky things you do in your private life.

All I can hope is that you don’t pass on your genetic material and have children to continue your legacy of stupidity. I’m pretty sure the creators of the Internet would be rolling over in their graves (if they are indeed dead) if they saw what their good intentioned creation was being used for.
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Let's Go Bears!
So today I was online looking at an article about something in Amish Country. Amish Country always makes me think of cows.

And every time someone mentions cows, I'm always reminded of a Gary Larson cartoon that for some reason, I still find to be funny:



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OK, so I was just skulking around the internet looking at goofy sites, and came across one that I thought was pretty funny.

I'm sure everyone has heard of Wikipedia, right? It's pretty much an online encyclopedia with information of almost anything you'd want to learn about. So I found the exact opposite of Wikipedia: The Encyclopedia of Stupid.

It's actually kind of cute, as it's set up to look EXACTLY like Wikipedia, but differs in the fact that it contains hateful, yet funny observations on various topics.

I found one entry about MySpace that was pretty on target that I thought some of you might like. Enjoy.

Myspace is stupid.

Myspace is a social networking website created for adults and also for teens as a way to further isolate themselves from their parents and sexualize themselves more quickly. Myspace allows these children to create an entire web page dedicated to themselves and they generally decorate it accordingly. Many kids who think they're "hip" and "cool" use Myspace and spend hours looking at other people's profiles, endlessly posting poorly written messages and waiting for the love of their life to come online.

There are many types of kids who use MySpace: Goths, Guys looking for Easy Chicks, Slutty Attention Whores and Losers are just a few examples.

The Tween Crowd

As mentioned in the opening paragraph, tweens are not ones to be left out of squandering their lives away wallowing in the filth of Myspace. The tween crowd is one of the largest groups on the site. Most of their time is spent refreshing Death Cab For Cutie's page at an alarming rate.


Goths, as in real life, are the crappiest (and gayest) Myspace users. They make their backgrounds all black with some death metal or punk rock band, and take pictures of themselves in white makeup or extreme closeups to hide acne or obesity. They have songs by Linkin Park playing in loops on their page, which also happens to be the music that they cut themselves to. Goths also like to use Myspace to post a suicide note after someone takes them off their top 8.

Guys Looking for Easy Chicks

These users tend to post pictures of their big muscles or them riding a wave on their long pieces of foam they call "Surf Boards." They also post pictures of themselves with attractive women, who 99% of the time turn out to be their sister or cousin. Since about 50% of Americans live in The South, this also means that 50% of these women have had or are having sexual relations with the man in question. These users are well known for sending out bulk form letters consisting solely of: "Hey your hot."

Slutty Attention Whores

These girls post pictures of themselves in bikinis and revealing clothing because they think that this will somehow improve their lives. In fact, all it does is get them raped. Sometimes Rape is justifiable. These users are well known for leading along the Guys Looking for Easy Chicks, sending hundreds of short, barely-qualifying-as-messages in order to get more compliments posted on their page.


These are mostly fat or ugly people who take weird pictures of themselves in what's known as the fatty ninja cam-whore fakeout shot. This is to either hide their fat or their ugliness so people won't ridicule them on the World Wide Web.


Scenesters are by far the worst type of Myspace user. They are high in numbers and low on opinions. Scenester Myspace pages usually have a small font, with random quotes like "I murder faces!!!" so that others will view them as "eccentric" and "unique." Pictures of these dreaded scenesters are commonly black in white and distorted with awful pictures drawn in paint, to once again fool viewers into thinking they are artistic and complicated. They will usually have the most number of friends, often pushing five digits, because they have no friends in real life and desperately care about what other people online think about them. (See: Tila Tequila and Jeffree Star)

Unfortunate Gay Guys

Since the near collapse of Friendster in 1984, many of the orphaned gay males have transitioned to Myspace in hopes of reconnecting with past hookups, fellow fashion victims, and other gay males of the sort that are routinely seen in cities carrying empty messenger bags. Myspace is used by many gay men for self-aggrandizement, as they will often have thousands of friends (97.6% of whom they do not know or will never meet in person.)

Unfortunate Gay Guys will use background images of female celebrities dressed in nearly nothing in order to attract guys that are seeking masculine guys. You see, posting images of females and other assorted hot girls announces a gay man's masculinity regardless of how broken his wrists may be. Many other gay males also use "tricked-out rides" to further advertise their masculinity.

On the flip side are fashion victims and label sluts, who post images of designer labels, shoes, bags, purses (for some), underwear, shirts, and other assorted clothing items. You see, labels increase gay men's chances for a hookup, or in this case a new Myspace friend -- or maybe even a rocking message posted by some other fashion victim to the tune of "yOu RoCk ToTaLlY!"

Overtly Sexual Bisexual Woman

One of the more common subgroups on Myspace is the Overtly Sexual Bisexual Woman. In reality, this woman is a fifty year old man masturbating at his computer. He gets quite a rush every time a member of the Guys Looking for Easy Chicks leaves him a dirty comment or message. While most people would shrug off such an obviously fraudulent profile as a parody of the Slutty Attention Whores, the GLFEC find the OSBW a prime candidate for “discreet” fun outside of Myspace. As coincidence would have it, the fifty year old male is also the majority of the Role Playing Crowd.

The Role Playing Crowd

The Role Playing Crowd is an intricate network within the social networking scene that must carry on the legacy of such canceled bastions of pop culture as Buffy the Vampire Slayer. While masturbating to Myspace is great fun, it’s made all the more pleasurable when you're trading messages as if you were living a doomed romance between Willow and Buffy. The Role Playing Crowd doesn't pose a great threat to anybody, being largely self-contained and speaking its own fantasy language.

MySpace Stupidity

MySpace stupidity is rampant. Despite the fact that the site is featured by news programs and other media outlets nonstop, most Myspace users think that since it is on the Word Wide Web it's private and nobody can see it but their "friends!"

Random Capitalization

People also use Myspace to completely destroy the punctuation of the English Language. MoST MySpAcE UsERs TyPe LiKe ThIs, IsN'T iT aWeSomE?

It's hard to read and it takes about 4 times longer to write, but thats what 13 year olds think is cool on the internet.

Crappy backgrounds

To make things even more difficult, people post pictures on their background that make everything on their site impossible to read. More often than not, the pictures don't scroll with the text, so its almost impossible to try to figure out whats going on. The most common background is a variation of the Playboy Bunny, or some overly plastically-enhanced celebrity - used to reinforce the idea that the user is "hot."

Streaming Music

People who use Myspace think that everyone who visits their ----ty profiles wants to listen to the music they listen to. The idea is that sharing ones music will elicit "OMG UR SO COOL I LUV THIS BAND PLZ COME OVER SO WE CAN HAVE SEX LOL?!" comment on their wall, which is like a primitive forum board with only one topic: "How much do you like my gay profile?"

Unfortunately, the streaming music is almost always the worst of the worst, but to add insult to injury the volume of the embedded music is orders of magnitude louder than anything else you might have been listening to on your computer causing it to blare out of your speakers at an earsplitting decibel level. If you don't have a heart attack and die, you generally swear loudly and promise to yourself you will never visit Myspace again. You lie. Sadly due to the massive numbers of people that use Myspace and the sheer stupidity of these huddled masses, the streaming of music has boast the public's exposure to such classics as: "Ms. New Booty." "My Humps" "Lips Of An Angel" "Sexay Back", which also coincidentally serve as the anthems of the Slutty Attention Whore cultures.

AOL speak

AOL speak is the lowest form of language known to man, which says a great deal since as you'll recall, people started communicating by grunting and pounding the ground. Instead of typing out whole words like "your," people save time by typing "ur" and looking like complete idiots. Also, the use of numbers has transformed words such as "Before" to "b4."


Web design experts claim that Myspace is the single most worst designed website to have over 30 million clicks a day. With over 100 million registered, the dumbest thing is that there's probably only half of that at most due to losers making more than one page.



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Randy Jackson from American Idol....Whatchutalkinbout?

So I thought I would comment a little about this season's American Idol (yes, unfortunately, I watch it...), and in particular, the non-sensical ramblings of judge Randy Jackson. This is where Randy's blatherings get deciphered for those of you not fluent in Dawganese.

To Haley: “Aiight, yo! Haley! Aiight so check it out! Yo, we been sayin’ all season – you hear this from us all the time – it’s all about song choice; that was the perfect song for you, and America, Haley’s back in the competition! That was hot, baby, that’s your best performance to date. That’s your best performance right there. That had the Yo Factor all over it. Y’know’m sayin’? You feel me, right?”

Translation: Aiight, yo! Haley! Aiight so check it out! Yo, we’ve been saying all season, it’s all about T&A. That was the perfect outfit for you; and America, Haley’s back is in the competition! Those formal shorts were hot, baby. That’s your best outfit so far! I don’t know if you actually sang or anything, but, dang, girl, that was your best performance to date. To date!

To Chris: “Yo, Chris! So check it out, dawg, check it out. You know what, man, you know what’s really interesting is I’m really excited about the show tonight cuz you know what? That was another great performance. And you know what was really cool about that, is it showed a really different side to you. When you sing soft and you don’t push it, every note was in tune, it was beautiful. I think that’s one of your best vocals yet, dawg.”

Translation: Dawg, I don’t know what just happened. I didn’t want to come here today, right? I wanted to stay home and watch VH1, but my wife made me come. I was, like, “Woman, you know those kids ain’t gonna bring it tonight,” but I was wrong. You brought it, Chris Richardson, and what you brought was in tune.

To Stephanie: “Aiight, Steph. So, yo, I mean, it wasn’t a great song choice. I think it wasn’t my best performance for you for me. Uh, it was a little pitchy for me, and I think, like, I feel like, it just – just being honest – It’s hard when people sing a lot of uptempo songs, and you’re a brilliant uptempo singer. When you get to ballads, it’s harder cuz each not is longer and it has to stay in tune, so you can’t chop it up and make it rhythmical. It was a little pitchy for me.”

Translation: "Uh…Is she still in the competition? I thought she was out, like, two weeks ago? I thought the other girl with the schnoz was still here. Man, I’ve got to start getting some sleep. I had a huge party last night at my house with Mariah and Whitney and Stevie, the Greatest Singer in the Known World, and we were all talking about how hard it is to sing ballads when you mostly sing uptempo songs. They talk shop to me like that, cuz I’m a musician. And wouldn’t you know it? That conversation is totally relevant to tonight. Anyway, what I really want to say is that dress makes you look like a transvestite prostitute. God speed, baby!"

To Blake: “Yo! Aiight, so check it out, baby, check it out. Blake, you know what, man, you know that I’m a huge Blake fan, right? Been since day one? This week, man, you put together a very cool vibey, edgy, massive Yo Factor™ version of a song that’s like forty, forty-five years old. You made the song really current, man. That is really hard to do. So much props to you. That was brilliant, baby. Brilliant.”

Translation: "Dawg, right, I know I kind of trashed you last week, and I’m sorry. I really really don’t want to miss the Blake Train. I get that you’re so hot right now. You’re so edgy and real. And I love the plaid pants. Big ups for you for being able to wear those. Even with my recent weight loss, my legs are still a little chunky. Those pants would totally make me look like a house. They make you look like some kind of hipster golfer. Way to go, you!"

To LaKisha: “LaKisha, aiight, yo yo yo. Aiight so, “Diamonds Are Forever” from the James Bond…(Don’t know the rest of what he said because I had to go to the kitchen for a Diet Coke refill....).”

Translation: "I’m having trouble distinguishing you from last year’s diva, Mandisa, so from here on out you shall be referred to as “ManKisha.”

To Phil: “Yo, Phil. You had a good time of there, didn’t you, dawg? That was good, right? Let it all out, let it hang out on stage. It was a pretty good performance to me. There were a couple pitchy spots, but in the end, I always like your upper register cuz it’s like really strong and you got all the turns, you got the falsetto and stuff. So, you know, whats it was aaaaah…it was pretty good for me, actually.”

Translation: "Dawg, I’m sorry to be so harsh. You know when I ask you if you were having a good time up there, that I really didn’t like the performance. I mean, I respect your Michael Bolton vibe, but you sort of freak me out with your whole grown-up embryo look."

To Jordin: “Aiight, so check it out. Aiight, so Miss Jordin Sparks. Wow! Got some fans; they’re lovin’ you tonight. So check it out, Jordin. That was a very tall order for you. I mean, you know, you’re seventeen, and I keep sayin’ every week I’m really impressed with you at seventeen, you pick these songs. That was very difficult, very controlled, great, great performance. One of, I think, the best performances we’re gonna see tonight.”

Translation: "I am putting on my Hat of the Future, and I am predicting that your performance might possibly be one of the best ones of the day. Don’t quote me on that, because I definitely don’t want to commit to anything, but I’m just saying that maybe POSSIBLY you might be a stand-out tonight. But we still have to hear from Sanjaya and Gina, so please don’t hold me to that.”

To Sanjaya: “Aiight, I gotta tell you, you shocked me tonight. You know use—usually you’re this kind of reserved, kind of like just mildly meek kind of, cool very cool guy. Dude, you came out of your shell tonight. I think it was your best performance to date, baby. That was your best performance to date. I’m still like, I’m in shock.”

Translation: "Sometimes when Simon is especially kind to a super sucky contestant, the voting public feels safe and doesn’t vote for the poor sap. I’m hoping The Dawg can harness some of that power. I LOVED Sanjaya’s performance. It was sooooo great! Might have been better than Jordin’s, but don’t hold me to that. How’s that reverse psychology for you, bitches?"

To Glocksen: “Gina, Gina, Gina. What’s goin’ down, man, you had a good time? Kickin’ over the mic stand. Aiight, so you’re our resident Rocker® this season, right? I love that, I love the whole kind of edge vibe. I don’t know if it was my favorite vocal, shhhh, it was just aiight for me, man, it was, a little pitchy in spots. Yeah.”

Translation: "Dude, is this person a guy or girl? I don’t know, so I’ll just call him/her, “Man.” Like, a lot of time rockers look kind of androgynous, so he-she totally has that goin’ on. Man, rockers like this person are so hard core. I’m afraid for my life. Hopefully the leprechauns in Paula’s Coke cup will be able to provide a protective force field behind which I can hide."

To Sligh: “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Aiight, so check it out, baby, check it out. Chris, man, everybody’s performin’ tonight, man, I like that you’re comin’ out of the crowd and stuff. Dude, it’s like a concert in here, dawg. It started off a little bit rough cuz you were a little ahead of the beat cuz you were probably walking and shakin’ hands and talkin’ and stuff like that, but you wound up good, man, I mean it’s a, it’s a great song for you actually. I thought you ended it really strong. It started off a little rough for me, though.”

Translation: "Forget about it. This guy’s talented. Walking, shaking, singing, AND talking. How is anyone going to be able to compete? End the competition right now. It’s a Chubby World and he’s just letting us reside in it."

To Melinda: “Yo, you know what? So check it out, Melinda, I guess we could say, tonight, we probably saved the best vocal for last. That was another stunning performance. I love the way that you take your time. You listen to every word, you have great relative pitch. I mean, dude, dude, you are a pro up there. Definitely.”

Translation: "Oh, man. I’m gonna need to be noncommittal one more time. That MIGHT have been the best vocal of the night, but I’m not sure. I get a little distracted, you know between Haley’s shorts and Blake’s plaid pants and Sligh’s multitasking. But yeah, she’s a pro. Not the same kind of pro as Stephanie seems to be tonight, but a pro in the singing and performing sense."

So there you go. You're welcome.

Tomorrow is more AI...and more Randy. I'm excited.


Let's Go Bears!
If you’ve been feeling sorry for "Girls Gone Wild" mastermind Joe Francis after a federal judge ordered him to serve jail time, put your sympathy on hold until you’ve heard the latest episode of “Sleazebags Gone Wild.”

Francis is on the run, which makes him a federal fugitive. Judge Richard Smoak originally slapped Francis with a contempt citation last month, after the smut-peddler started yelling threats and obscenities at the women who were suing him for selling videos of their drunken underage sex romps.

The judge suspended the citation when the parties reached a settlement, but then reinstated it on Wednesday when he learned that Francis was fudging the terms of the agreement. Francis remained defiant, telling reporters that the judge had “lost his mind,” and cleverly stating, “it is a case of a judge gone wild.”

Going AWOL has done nothing to soothe the wild and crazy judge. Smoak has refused to suspend the jail order and has raised the damages Francis has to pay the plaintiffs. Even Francis’ own attorney said he was “stumped” by the actions of his client, who hasn’t been seen since Thursday.

Apparently Joe is learning that karma can be a bitch–a ----- gone wild, that is.



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So earlier in my blog, I posted pictures of the "Men of the Year", so just to even things out, here are the Top 10 Women Drivers of the Year. Enjoy.:D



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I love television. Despite the fact that the majority of television programming inspires your brain cells to say things like "f*** this — I'm outta here" to each other before battering themselves to death against the inside of your cranium; despite the fact that the average American watches something like 29 hours of television per day; despite the fact that the so-called sport of golf has its own channel, I still love television.

I love television because when I was little, my parents didn't let me watch very much television. I could watch Sesame Street and Mr. Rogers and Electric Company, and Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom. I could watch cartoons too, and all week I looked forward to the six-hour bonanza of Saturday morning; nothing except the inevitable but deeply disappointing arrival of Soul Train at 12:30 could pry me away from the tube.

As I got older, they let me watch more stuff, but not the Dukes of Hazzard, because my father dismissed it as "stupid, " an opinion that, while valid, nevertheless pained my heart and the flame that it carried for Bo. (I forgive you, Dad.) I wasn't allowed to watch MTV either; evidently my parents objected to MTV on principle. I watched it anyway, keeping a finger poised on the "previous channel" button. These restrictions made television into forbidden fruit, delicious and tempting. (Especially Prince videos.)

In retrospect, I think their decision to restrict my television intake proved a wise one, because instead of watching TV, I devoured books and used my imagination. Unfortunately, I don't live at home anymore and nobody can tell me to turn off the TV because it's a beautiful day outside for heaven's sake. I have to struggle against the temptation to sit in front of the television, every muscle slackened and the front of my shirt moist with drool, watching Ron Popeil elaborate on the myriad uses for Hair In A Can while my brain turns into a sticky cobweb.

So, to make a long story short, I think I need to make a concerted effort to cut down on television, not just because my ability to sing along with commercials had begun to scare me, but also because the sheer crapiness of television had begun to scare me. A couple of months ago, I spent an entire rainy day doing nothing but watching television, and I saw the following examples of aforementioned crapiness…

The Young and the Restless. A woman wearing a tight orange dress and bright orange lipstick informed a man with a bristly mustache that she was pregnant with his child. I had my doubts about that, since the dress didn't leave much to the imagination, and as it turned out, another woman wearing a polka-dotted something-or-other with large shoulderpads confirmed my suspicions — Orange Lady was indeed lying.

Three's Company rerun. The roommates all won some money. They had to split it evenly. Each roommate thought he or she should keep all of the money. The usual predictable misunderstandings ensued.

Oasis Unplugged. Give me a bloody break, mate.

A lesson on the pupil of the domestic feline. This somewhat obvious science lesson — a cat's pupils dilate in lower light, uh duh — segued into a discussion of the hermit crab's life of leisure. Fascinating.

Several dozen commercials for gyms and weight loss programs — Jenny Craig, Weight Loss Centre, SlimFast, Lucille Roberts — obviously geared towards the hapless and overweight daytime-viewing audience.

L.A. Law rerun. I refuse to believe that people actually tuned in each week to find out if the roly-poly man and his pointy-headed wife could impregnate themselves. Maybe the writers had a contest to determine how many times they could fit the words "turkey baster" into the script. Maybe the winner got to spray-paint "Clash Of The Titans much?" on the door of Harry Hamlin's dressing room.

Top Cops. A word of advice to female law-enforcement officers, and to those who impersonate them on TV — perhaps you should eliminate the phrase "short on the sides, long in back" from your hairstyle vocabulary.

Heather Locklear. "People always think that Amanda Woodward and I are, like, the same person, but we really aren't." Oh, my.

A program about how to operate a calculator — specifically, the cosine button. The host, invisible except for his index finger, asked the audience to press the cosine button a few times, just to get comfortable with it. Nope, not a joke.

Genuine diamelles. The word "diamelle" does not appear in the dictionary. I thought I should mention that.

Rerun of 1992 Presidential debates. Clinton looked kind of cute.

WKRP rerun. On the one hand, you have acting. On the other hand, you have pressing your breasts together until they look like a buttcrack. Hats off to Loni Anderson for trying to do both.

A commercial for the Barbie Mustang High Stepper. The brain trust at Mattel, chastened by Ken's anatomical incorrectness, at last gave Barbie something to mount — the High Stepper, a pony with movable joints that walks by itself. Well, sort of. Picture Stephen Hawking break-dancing.

A show about sheep.

Kabuki theater on public access.

This list doesn't scratch the surface. It doesn't mention Bob Saget, or any of the abominations masquerading as programming on the UPN network, or car commercials or the Psychic Friends or movies with all the "bad" words cut out. Thanks to digital cable, I get over 1,000 channels, 24 hours a day — I couldn't list all the crap on television in just one column, even if I wanted to. I don't think I want to, anyway.

So do I have a point? Everyone already knows that most television sucks and that the United States as a nation should read more. But the quality of television doesn't worry me as much as the use of television. People turn on the television to keep them company, and to keep them from thinking. They think that if they turn off the television then they will have to think about their lives and deal with their family members, and they will feel lonely and depressed. They do not want to feel lonely and depressed, because they think that nobody should ever feel lonely and depressed. They get this idea from television.

For some reason, we live in a country where everyone needs to feel happy and fulfilled and entertained during every waking moment, or they think that they have something wrong with them. I don't know how this happened, but I have a feeling that Prozac is having its heyday precisely because television stopped working as an effective numbing agent.



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My new favorite thing about Saturday Night Live (not that there's been much over the past few years to enjoy about SNL.....) is Andy Samberg.

I first noticed him when he and Chris Parnell did the "Lazy Sunday" ("CHRONICles of Narnia") rap last season. Now I'm hooked on his "SNL Digital Shorts". Andy Samberg was also the guy who did the "D*** in a Box" video this past season with Justin Timberlake, which was one of the better SNL skits I've seen lately.

Anyway...this past week, he had another hilarious Digital Short entitled "Roy Rules", which apparently was written about Andy's brother-in-law Roy, whm Andy apparently finds very sexy....even though he's not really into dudes.

So here you go: "Lazy Sunday", "Roy Rules", and "D**in a Box" (Uncensored version). Enjoy. :)






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Rejected McDonalds Regional Speciality Items

As some of you may know, or some of you may not know, McDonald’s restaurants offers special “regional” items in certain locations.

In addition to their regular Frankenstein food creations, they will in some instances offer menu items that are considered local specialties. For example, you can order wine at McDonalds’s in France, beer in Germany and something called a McLobster at McDonald's in eastern Canada. In light of these unique and sometimes disgusting specialties, here are some possible new menu items that may have been left behind:

McPossum with Cheese: This creation would be offered in various rural areas, but mostly any McDonald's that fall within the Ozark mountain range. The sandwich is essentially a quarter-pounder, but instead of being made of beef, it is made out of the carcasses of possums found on the side of the Interstate. For those who necks are truly red, they order to the burger with a tail-topping.

McKosher: Clearly this item would be best served in Israel and New York City. Due to certain dietary restrictions customary with the Hebrew faith, the McKosher could only made out of the meat of any are even-toed ungulates and herbivores (essentially this means cows, sheep, deer and giraffes…that’s right, giraffe). To totally insure the holiness of the McKosher, a rabbi would be responsible for making each sandwich and blessing it appropriately.

Seal McNuggets: Naturally this menu item would be reserved for any McDonald's located about the Arctic circle. Breaded and deep-fried to perfection, these tasty treats would be no more disgusting than those boot-shaped Chicken McNuggets of similar namesake. Seriously, what the ---- is in the those things???

McMystery Meat Sandwich: This item could be popular anywhere that actual meat is scarce, but I see it having the most success in Asian countries...or maybe in school cafeterias. They could make the patties out of dogs, cats, rats, scorpions or anything rife with disease and that can be found in the gutter. Also, instead of cheese, pickles, onions, etc. the McMystery Meat could be topped with a rice patty!

McCannibal: I think the name of this sandwich says it all. As for where it would be sold, perhaps in insane asylum cafeteria’s, the jail that Hannibal Lecter is housed in, or in Bath, OH since Jeffrey Dahmer is from there. Eat up!



Let's Go Bears!
Ooooh! One more thing! I also wanted to post this horrendous McNugget McMishap that I came across recently. Man....if this doesn't swear you off of the tasteless slop that Mickey D's tries to pass off as food- nothing will.



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So I just was messing with my new digital camera and have a cool baby pic of my little sweet boy and his Dad...I LOVE this picture. The one below is a picture of a picture, so the quality is not so great, but you get the general idea. :)

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Sabotage 101: Chaos and Disorder made easy

Sabotage 101: Chaos and Disorder made easy!

Bored? Mischievous? Or maybe you're just a jerk who likes to shake things up a little? Sabotage 101 may be right for you.

Start with some free time, add some ------- and a bit of Project Mayhem from Fight Club; then shake vigorously.

Periodically, I will post ideas to help you surprise unsuspecting people in your life who could use a change from their day-to-day activities.

These ideas are, for the most, are non-violent, but they may frustrate people....which is pretty much the whole point.

So here's the first installment, which is to be used by anyone who ever gets stuck babsitting.

Below, I've listed ways to get even with those bratty kids... and the heartless parents who left you to watch them:

The kids you're supposed to be watching:

As soon as the parents leave only speak in another language... unless you're talking to yourself... or if you're having a conversation with inanimate objects... both of which should be done often

Tape them to the wall with duct tape... then go for a nap right there in front of them.

Tell them the scariest stories you know...and then turn off all the lights in the house and tell them to go to bed.

Convince the kids that they're adopted (bonus points if you get them to beleive you're their birth parent).

Every so often stop what you're doing and say: "Shh... did you hear that?" Look around cautiously, then say "...It's probably just the wind." (Later in the night start saying: "Did you see that?" instead).

Discipline them with a squirt bottle... like you would a cat or dog... or use a garden hose... to squirt them... not beat them... DO NOT BEAT THE CHILDREN!

They start to annoy you? Throw eggs at them.

They start to disobey you? Lock yourself in the bathroom for a few minutes, then come out dressed as a Mexican Luchador and challenge the kids to a wrestling match to defend your honor.

Act out your favorite scene from "When a Stranger Calls"... but none that involve murder.

Act out your favorite scene from "Jaws"... but none that involve the shark dying.

The parents:

Re-arrange all the furniture in the house.

Teach their kids to play the bagpipes or drums (bonus points if you teach them to play the drums with the bagpipes).

Phone often with unimportant/bizzare questions/concers, here are a few ideas:

"How much porn do you NORMALLY let them watch?"

"I seem to have locked us all in the hallway closet"

"I think they can read my thoughts!"

"What's your policy on dealing with kidnappers?"

"I don't know how to say this... but they seem to be multiplying"

Have emtpy bottles of alcohol scattered in the living room, drunkenly tell them, "You should be proud... little buggers could really hold their own..."

Be wearing some of their clothes when they come home... act as though you aren't... deny any claims to the contrary.

Ask them when they get home: "How many kids were here when you left? I think I may have misplaced one or two..."

Be tied to a chair when they get home, say that the kids overpowered you and that they took your car (the younger the kids, the better....)


Let's Go Bears!
OK....so this pic is not for the faint of heart. Seriously.

It kind of makes you wonder why there are people out there who can't quite figure out when they're to old to pull off certain things.......you know, like really dark hair coloring, low rise jeans, hair extensions......and a bikini. Scroll down and you'll see what I'm talking about. :D

I think my favorite thing about this chick is how you can literally SEE the outline of her breast implants. That is just NOT right. :laugh:


Let's Go Bears!
Came across this while I was waiting for my husband to feed and change the baby, take the trash out, get the laundry done and get the dinner dishes finished......(not really- I did the dishes.) :D

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Let's Go Bears!
It's Kentucky Derby Time!!!!

This Saturday is time for my all time favorite sporting event- The Kentucky Derby. So...for those of you who also like horse racing and who are Derby fans, (and I don't think there's very many of you on Yappi, but still.....) I'm posting an article that was written after last night's Derby Draw on ESPN.

Arkansas Derby (gr. II) winner Curlin was installed the moderate 7-2 morning line favorite for Saturday’s $2 million, 1 1/4-mile Kentucky Derby Presented by Yum! Brands (gr. I) when post positions were drawn Wednesday.

Churchill Downs handicapper Mike Battaglia said it was a tossup between Curlin and 2006 champion Street Sense for favoritism. He said he went with Curlin because “he is undefeated we just don’t know how good this horse is.”

Curlin will start from post position 2 and Street Sense from post 7.

“Considering the 16th selection, the two hole was an excellent option for him," trainer Steve Asmussen. "He won the Arkansas Derby out of the two hole. I feel very confident.”

As for being the morning line favorite, Asmussen was unimpressed.

“The morning line is free and everything on the racetrack that is free isn’t worth anything.”

Robby Albarado will ride Curlin.

Street Sense, who is seeking to become the first Bessemer Trust Breeders’ Cup Juvenile (gr. I) winner to win the Derby, was made the 4-1 second choice. Trainer Carl Nafzger won the Derby in 1990 with Unbridled.

"I was hoping to be 20-1 like Unbridled," Nafzger said. "I don't care what the morning line is. I'd just like to be No. 1 to the wire."

No Breeders' Cup Juvenile winner in 23 years has gone on to win the Derby; no 2-year-old champion has won since Spectacular Bid in 1979. Those stats don't deter Nafzger.

"He's been training really good," he said. "We're ready to run. We don't have any excuses. We drew a nice post position and we've got a good selection. We've just got to go out there and see if we can win."

If Nafzger and jockey Calvin Borel are counting on an old winning number to bring them some luck this year, Curlin has a digit on his side, too: No. 2. The imposing chestnut colt gets the nod from that post for Saturday's race, starting in the same spot Affirmed did on his way to winning the Triple Crown in 1978 -- the last horse to do so.

Trainer Todd Pletcher will try to end his 0-for-14 skid in the Derby with a record-tying five entries: Any Given Saturday, Circular Quay, Cowtown Cat, Sam P. and Scat Daddy.

"It's a very difficult race to win," he said. "We feel like we got our horses prepared well. Now we need some of the other things to go right."

Circular Quay was made the 8-1 co-third choice, along with Nobiz Like Shobiz, trained by Barclay Tagg, who won in 2003 with Funny Cide. Circular Quay, coming off an eight-week layoff, will start in the No. 16 post.

"He's a horse that's probably going to fall a little back in the race," Pletcher said. "It's nice we're placed right outside Tiago because he's got a similar racing style."

Florida Derby (gr. I) winner Scat Daddy was installed as the 10-1 fourth choice and will break from the No. 14 post.

Pletcher's other horses were not among the favorites. Any Given Saturday was listed at 12-1; Cowtown Cat and Sam P. were both 20-1.

Wood Memorial (gr. I) winner Nobiz Like Shobiz will leave from the No. 12 post.

The most successful post positions in the Derby's 132-year history have been Nos. 1 and 5, which have produced 12 winners each.

As a result of a draw earlier in the day when the maximum 20 horses were confirmed for the race and two were eliminated because their graded earnings were insufficient to get them into the race, the connections of Sunshine Millions Dash winner Storm in May had the first choice, with co-owner Teresa Palmer selecting post position 4.

After that, the next six post positions chosen were 10, 8, 9, 11, 7, and 6, respectively. Then, the connections of Florida Derby (gr. I) winner Scat Daddy went for the 14 post, the outside position in the first of two starting gates used for the Derby.

The post position order for the Derby, with trainer, jockeys, and morning line odds, is:

Below is a pic of this year's Derby favorite, (as of today, anyways...) Curlin.





Let's Go Bears!
So with all the hoopla surrounding Paris Hilton and her jail issue, I've realized just how weary I'm getting of celebrities today.

Seriously, if I have to see Brangelina staring at me once more in the express line at Giant Eagle, or see Britney's bad-wig-and sunglasses "look", I think I'm going to be in danger of taking a hostage. Because, really? After the tenth celebrity "dance-off," it can get a little old.

So I think I'm going back to the days when celebrities were cool-back when saline went in our eyes instead of well, other places, when veneers referred to our paneled dens where we watched The Love Boat, and the only competition for the heartthrobs of our youth was Kristy McNichol.

Ahh, a picture taken back before the days of Photoshop and airbrushing. There's NO WAY any decent agent nowadays would let a client have a headshot that includes such blatant undereye crinkles.

Where'd she go, anyway? Ten bucks says she's working at a Denny's now. Hey, Buddy, how about a warm-up and some more cream?

Oh, David Cassidy. We loved you first and we loved you best...

I loved him less after he stole my Girl Scout uniform.

Before David was famous, he had to swim at the COMMUNITY POOL. He's wicked street, yo! Actually, dude looks like he's panhandling for spare change in order to buy some shoes.

... until we met your brother Shaun.

Shaun is always very sweet and polite to everyone he meets, and loves to get to know his fans. At gunpoint.

Shaun is a Libra who loves picnics and long walks. He's also standing outside your bedroom window with a gun.

Man, what I wouln't have done to have Shaun's gun aimed at ME, if you know what I mean...