Ding Dong, The Wicked Witch Is Dead

Today we're just gonna interview Saddam Hussein during his stay in heaven.

IANO: "Before we begin would you like to get comfortable and take off your jacket?"

SADDAM: "Sure...I'll just hang it up over there."

IANO: "So now that you're dead and here in heaven do you think you'll take up any hobbies?"

SADDAM: "Yup...thinking of taking up hang gliding."

IANO: "Anything else?"

SADDAM: "Maybe...but mostly I'll just hang around."

IANO: "You have a pretty nice suite here...gonna make any changes?"

SADDAM: "I'll probably hang some new curtains."

IANO: "Thats it?"

SADDAM: "Oh, maybe some hanging plants over near that window."

IANO: "Any thoughts on Hillary or John Kerry?"

SADDAM: "I'd hate to hang around with either of them."

IANO: What was it about Kerry you hated?"

SADDAM: "Dude was one ugly bastard....he had that hang dog look on his face all the time."

IANO: "Any American TV shows up here?"

SADDAM: "Hangin' With Mr. Cooper."

IANO: "Any movies?"

SADDAM: "Hang 'em High"

IANO: "Any regrets about your time in power?"

SADDAM: ::::hangs head::::

:::phone rings:::

SADDAM: "Hang on...I'm coming"

::: Answers phone::: "Do you have Prince Uday in a can?"

SADDAM: :: hangs up::

IANO: One last question....is it true when you get hung you get an erection?"

SADDAM: "nope....it just hangs there."

IANO: "Thank you for your time, Mr. Hussein."

SADDAM: "Death to America"

My Time In The Pokey.

Very few people know this, but Hoag and I got sent to prison (me for buying a Plymouth...Hoag for shopping in WalMart) in the late 1990s. Republican Prison...and it was HORRIBLE!

One time the bidet was broken and it took over TWO hours to fix it!

And we had to wear orange jump suits while golfing. We're still shaken up.

Speaking of golf...how about the horror, the HORROR of no cup holders in the golf cart? You think you could survive that? HA!

The shrimp cocktails only came with four shrimp. It sucked. But we were learning our lesson.

They wouldn't let us use our preprogrammed phone numbers on our cell phones. We had to punch in each 7 digit phone number! Plus area code! With our fingers!

Wine was limited to Merlot and Pinot Grigio (no colder than 45 degrees!!). THE BASTARDS!

Hoag wasn't allowed cuff links or his trademark paisley ascot.

And did I mention the cruel and unusual punishment of just getting down TO the prison? First we had to fly down to Miami and then get on this HUGE white Prison Boat (I think it was called the Royal Republican. Or something.) which took us to this remote Prison Island...Grand Bahama Something or other. I'm still freakin' out.

Finally after two grueling weeks they released us.

I'll never, ever even say the words Plymouth again. And Hoag still doesn't know what made him enter that WalMart on that fateful day...

I HEART The Holocaust

For Christmas my daughter gave me a book named NIGHT. It was about the Holocaust and this guy Wiesel who survived the concentration camps. I'm fascinated by the Holocaust and have read dozens of books about it.

So after we opened presents and had some breakfast I dove on the couch and read the book (it's fairly thin...the book, not the couch)

Horrible, horrible stuff happens to this guy but it doesn't seem to bother him. All he thinks about the whole time is getting one more ration of bread and one more ration of this watered down potato soup. Torture and experiments and beatings and death and all this guy can think about is another ration of stale bread and crappy soup. This went on for a few years for him. Bread. Soup. His whole stinking life revolved around that. He thought of nothing else. Bread. Soup. He'd make 'trades' for another ration of bread. Do favors for another ration of water soup. He dreamt about crusts of bread and gray soup. Someone would die next to him and he thought of stealing their ration. Soup and bread. Bread and soup.

Retard.

If I was there in that camp I'd be making trades for lasagna and pork chops. Pancakes and cookies. Bacon sandwiches. Crisp red delicious apples. I'd be dreaming about corn on the cob drenched in butter and covered in salt. Mashed potatoes. I'd be wheelin'' and dealin' my shoes for a rib eye on scalloped potatoes covered in beef gravy. I'd be shining Nazi shoes for country fried chicken. "I'll trade you my blanket for that Sweet Potato Pie" and on and on....

But this dude Wiesel thought only of stale bread and pale soup. And only did favors and trades for bread and soup. Heck, maybe that's just what he liked to eat. I shouldn't judge his poor taste in food.

Very strange.

I also thought it strange that I got a book about the death of millions of Jews on the day we celebrate the birth of one Jew.

Why don't Christians celebrate the birth of a Christian?

Retards.

(I don't actually HEART the Holocaust...I just HEART reading about it)

The Death of an American

One last glorious week.

One week. That's it.

And then....suicide watch.

One last glorious week. Tributes. Larry King. Maybe Conan.

And then suicide watch.

You see...President Ford died last night and now Chevy Chase will have one last flurry of attention and then he'll fade forever into oblivion.

One last glorious week.

We hardly knew you Chevy. You did one, maybe two funny things in your life and now its all over.

One last glorious week.

Moral of the story?

Whip Inflation Now.


PS:

I Aint No Oprah and you're not.

Happy Two Days After Christmas Eve!

Well, Christmas is over!

So much stuff packed into a couple of days. What is blog worthy? My kids were nervous over everything they said thinking I might make fun of them (NEVER!)

Do I mentioned drunken relatives? Or lame gifts?

Nope.

The post Christmas blog award goes to Wifey.

For no particular reason she just fell down. She tried to downplay it by saying stuff like : "Don't you ever fall down?" (NO) and "I just lost my balance...no big deal" (it was)

Well, guess what? It is a big deal when you're her age and you start falling down for no real reason. She could break a hip or something.

I think she's 'on the way out'. Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

I'll be taking applications come springtime.

Women only please.

Bad Joke. Good Joke.

BAD JOKE:

Two elephants are sitting in a bathtub when the first one asks the second one to "Please pass the soap."

The other elephant responds: "No soap, radio."

GOOD JOKE:

Joe Barbera (1/2 of the famed cartoon team of Hanna-Barbera) died the other day. The funeral procession will consist of just driving by the same three building for a half an hour on a Saturday morning.

----------------------------

Whatcha got?

The First Annual Jesus As Santa Claus Limerick That You'll Have To Help Finish Cuz I Just Don't Have The Time.

There once was a savior named Jesus
Who slid down chimneys to please us.
He left many presents
To poor kids and peasants
Uncles and Aunts, Nephews and Nieces.

(finish that up for me...willya?)

Anderson, Anderson, and Anderson.

Reading another blog the other day about going to a 'hair stylist' and getting a 'poof' got me thinking about how 'clever' hair stylists are in naming their shops:

A Cut Above

Curl Up And Dye

Short Cutz

Always Hair For You

The Hair Port

Hair Again

Shear Madness

The Mop Shop

And on and on...

Look in the Yellow Pages under Beauty Salons and you'll be amazed at the variety and play on words.

Now look under Accounting in the same Yellow Pages. The dullest company names EVER!

Let's help the accountants out and come up with some clever names for them....

How can I be racist...some of my best friends are Swedish?

There are a few things you need to know before reading today's blog.

1. I don't like shaking hands with people I don't know...once I know you I have no problem with it. But I have a germ thing with strangers.

2. I'm probably less racist than you are.

3. They shut down the water main yesterday to repair a problem.

4. I'm using the example of Perrier instead of Polar Springs because Perrier just sounds funnier.

Got all that?

So yesterday they shut down the water main to fix a problem. With the water main shut down you can still flush a toilet....but only once because then the tank doesn't refill. So I saved that one flush just in case of an emergency.

Got all that?

So then this wicked nice black guy comes in (we'll call him Gunther) and we start chattin' it up about toys and comics and Christmas and kids and junk. He buys a ton of stuff and we're laughing and having a grand old time when he goes to say goodbye he shakes my hand. And I shake back. But I'm freakin' out inside cuz I'm a germ freak and all I want to do is wash my hands but I don't have any water. But I'll deal with it.

So Gunther starts to leave but just before he walks out he asks if he can use the bathroom. Well guess what? I have to say no because remember the water main is shut off. But for some reason I know he's not gonna believe that and he's gonna think I aint letting him use the bathroom cuz he's black. I start to over explain the whole water main thing....I point down the street to show him what buildings are shut down and where he might find a bathroom. I feel terrible. He leaves.

So now I'm alone in the store and I remember I shook his hands and I want to wash them. But the water is shut off. So I soak a paper towel with Perrier and start to wash my hands when this horrible vision of Gunther catching me wiping off his germs freaks me out and I burst into laughter over how stupid the whole thing is.

Moral of the story?

I should have just let him use the working 'whites only' bathroom I have out back.

Customer Service and makin' the sale.

So this woman comes in the shop the other day and stands at the front counter and asks me if I have this...if I have that. She looks familiar.

I know I know her but can't place from where. I can't remember her name or if I knew her thirty years ago or three days ago.

But know I know her. And she starts talking like she knows me. And it's driving me nuts that I can't place her!

Nothing is ringing a bell.

Who is she? DAMN! I know her. I need to focus and remember how I know her.

I cannot for the life of me place her. How could I forget someone this attractive, smart, and obviously into me?

I have no idea how that is possible.

I just can't remember her.

Until we start making out, and then all the memories of making out with her last year all comes rushing back to me.

Though I don't remember if I made the sale.

Hey! It's time to play that game again!

What game is that?

You know, the game where I throw down six random letters and you make up a sentence with each word starting with said letter. In order.

You get bonus points if you make it Christmas related.

And here are the letters.

::drumroll::

P-R-C-T-A-W

Go to it my minions!

Insomnia

I was running a bit late today because of traffic and stuff and wasn't gonna do a blog.

And then the Insomnia guy (mid 60s) came in and I had to share his wicked funny story.

Insomnia Guy: "So I take this broad out for a date and we go to see the movie Insomnia"

ME: "Go on, go on"

Insomnia Guy: "And I fell asleep while watching a movie called Insomnia"

ME: "Go on, go on"

Insomnia Guy: "Thats it. Funny, huh?"

ME: "Wicked funny....did you have a second date?"

Insomnia Guy: ::blank stare::

Didn't we do this back in the summer?

This was in the new Mad Magazine.

I'm tired.

This morning I broke the record for the human who wanted to stay in bed the most. This was an all time record I broke. Nobody in the history of mankind ever wanted the confines of those blankets more than me. Ever.

I'm exhausted.

Sleepy. Need sleep.

I'm so tired. Exhausted.

Sleepy McDougal. Tired. I can barely stay awake.

Eyelids encumbered by anvilian weights. Need sleep.

I'm so tired. Sleepy. Exhausted. Bed calling.

Tired. Just want to crawl upstairs and sleep. Sleep the long sleep. Dream. Sleep.

I'm yawning and stretching and thinking of tonight when I go to sleep.

Cuz I'm tired. Just want to sleep the day away. The night away. Eyelids closing. Sleepy. Tired. I need to sleep right now. Cuz I'm tired.

Yawny O'Reilly.

Stevie McYawny

Stretchin' and yawnin'. Yawnin' and stretchin'. Sleep needed. Not yawns.

Mr Sandman I hate you. I'm tired. Need sleep. Deep long dream filled sleep.

Clouds and sheep and runnin' and flyin' kinda sleep. Snoozin' is what I'm losin'

I'm tired. Sleepy. Exhausted. Need bed. Need sleep. Can't stay awake. Cuz I'm tired. Sleepy.

I friggin' exhausted. Just want to sleep. Pillows and blankets and sleep.

Oh my.

12 hours or so. And then I'll be asleep. Happy and rested. Dreaming. Sleeping.

Because I'm exhausted. Tired. Sleepy.

Sleepy McDreamy.

Dreamy McSleepy.

Mickey SleepDreamy.

I tired. Sleepy and exhausted.

Beds around the world are calling my name.

Because they know.

I'm tired.

Tired of not sleeping. Tired of yawning. Tired of being exhausted. Tired of being tired.

Tired. Sleepy.

And now I'm thirsty...

Why I love Jesus more than brownies.

I love Jesus more than a pan full of brownies because:

1. Jesus could walk on water...brownies just sit in a pan.

2. Jesus had the power to heal....brownies just sit in a pan.

3. Jesus built a big tower so folks could babble....brownies just sit in pan.

4. Jesus could turn water into Merlot....brownies just sit in pan.

5. Jesus built an ark and saved all the animals from something....brownies just sit in a pan.

6. Jesus parted the Red Sea thus helping someone do something....brownies just sit in a pan.

7. Jesus invented 12 decibels thus giving us stereo music....brownies just sit in a pan.

8. Jesus had a baby and had the chutzpah to name him Baby Jesus....brownies just sit in a pan.

9. Jesus had a hot 'virgin' mom....brownies just sit in a pan.

10. Jesus taught about peace, love, and understanding (or was that Elvis Costello?)....brownies just sit in a pan.

And that is why I love Jesus more than brownies*



*I lied. I like brownies better...especially with walnuts.

Kraft Macaroni & Soap

All everyone does is complain about stuff. Nabobs of Negativity.

But nobody every complains about Kraft Macaroni & Cheese and soap. Even if someone HATES Kraft Mac and Cheese they don't complain about it. They deal with it. It's there. It's non offensive. It costs (I assume) under ten bucks.

When you have young kids and you present them with Kraft Macaroni and Cheese they think of you as Emeril Lagasse or something. It's truly a joy giving food. It's easy to make. It's good for you (contains the vitamins macaroni AND cheese) Doesn't take up much room in the cabinets. It's orange. It's Kraft Macaroni and Cheese.

So what does soap have to do with this? I'm talking about a bar of soap that you wash with. Nobody complains about soap. It's smooth. It's soapy. It gets you clean. It costs (I assume) under ten bucks. It's awesome. Oh sure, once in a while it'll slip out of you're hand and you'll curse....but it aint the soap's fault. It's yours.

We as a species also like smooth stuff and soap is nice and smooth.

You know what else is great about a bar of soap? You never run out of it. Each day you SEE the bar getting smaller and know when it's time to get a new one. It's soap. And it is awesome.

So stop yer complaining...we have soap and Kraft Macaroni and Cheese.

And with that...Adult Week is over.

Back to bears and food and everything PG.

IMAGINE if the Beatles were four Italian guys instead of four white guys.

So what would John Lennini, Georgio Harrisoni, Paulie Mac, and Ringolermo have come up with?

1. All You Need Is Luigi

2. Your Mama Mia Should Know

3. You Never Give Me Your Lire

4. Yellow Submarine A Sand-A-Wiche

5. Please Mr. Ill Postino

6. Hey Anthony!

7. Eleanor Rigatoni

8. Ob La Di, Ob La DaVinci

9. Back In The R.O.M.A.

10. Ciao arrivederci

If The Beatles Were Four Black Guys Instead Of Four White Guys (you know....according to Kramer)

So what would J-Le, G-Har, Paul-Diddy, and Blingo have come up with?

1. Black In The USSR

2. When I Be Sigstee Fo'

3. Sgt. Black Pepa's Lonely Hearts Club Band

4. I Be Da Walrus.

5. Can't Be Buyin' Me No Love

6. Eight Days A Week? Whatchu Takin' 'Bout Nigga?

7. Nuttin' Fo #7

8. Yo Latta.

9. Sumptin'

10. I Wanna Be Holdin' Yo Ho

11. Yo-Yo-Yo Jude

12. The Ballad Of John and Yo-Yo-Yoko.

(dedicated to Mrs Bacon Ace cuz she thinks I've been slacking on the LIST format)

I Have A Secret

Continuing our adventures during Adult I AINT NO OPRAH week...

Remember a couple months ago when Victoria's Secret sent me a gift card wishing me a very SEXY BIRTHDAY?

Well, they sent me another card last week for a free panty.

And not just a regular panty but a seamless panty.

So Monday night I decide to go into Victoria's Secret and get my free seamless panty. (Are seams really a problem on panties?) So I find a sales clerk, let her know I'm here for my free seamless panty, ask some advice on styles, colors, etc.

Now I'm at the checkout counter with my free seamless panties in a pink bag and here is how the conversation went:

VICTORIA: "Did you know you can get $10.00 off on the purchase of any bra in stock?"

ME: "Do I look like a guy who needs a bra?"

VICTORIA: "No...but you don't look like a guy who needs seamless panties either."

The Chowder Cannon

Seeing how it's adult week on I AINT NO OPRAH and yesterdays blog was about vagina I thought it fitting to spend some time with the penis. So to speak.

About a year or so ago me and a friend of mine (MadDog) heard the expression "Chowder Cannon" in reference to a man's penis. Afterwards I instantly googled the Chowder Cannon (with quotes around it to get exact results) and up came only 4 hits.

4 lonely hits for something as wonderful as Chowder Cannon.

What could be better for penis than Chowder Cannon? It's descriptive. It's unique. It's funny. A tad dangerous. And marketable. Chowder Cannon is and was a winner yet it sat there on Google with only four hits. To Google something and find only 4 hits is an amazing thing. Just about everything you Google has thousands of hits. Except Chowder Cannon.

I Googled it today (sounds dirty, huh?) with quotes around it ("Chowder Cannon") and up came 30 glorious hits!

Chowder Cannon, though not sweeping the nation is slowly working it's way around the globe. And I'd like to think I had a little something to do with it.

We'll find out next year when we all Google "Chowder Cannon" once again.

I'm guessing it will be over 300 hits and we can all be proud of ourselves for spreading the good word.

Chowder Cannon. Say it with me.

Chowder Cannon.

Once more.

Chowder Cannon.

Hoochie-Coochie Man

As you know, thousands of children around the globe read this blog. Today we are asking them not to, as today's blog is going to be R-rated.

Back when me and the Hoag were around 13 years old we'd be hangin' my house and my older brother and his friends would be there also.

They were cool. We looked up to them. They stole stuff, smoked pot, drank booze, skipped school, made it with chicks, dressed cool, gambled.

They gave us advice.

So one day while sitting Indian style looking up at in awe at one of them....we'll call him Mike....he gave us some incredible advice.

MIKE: "Never blow air into a woman's coochie (vagina)"

US: "Why would we want to?"

MIKE: Doesn't matter...just NEVER EVER do it...it could kill them"

US: "GASP!!!"

MIKE: "Promise?"

US: "How could it kill them if we blew air into their coochie (vagina)?"

MIKE: "It would send an air bubble straight to the heart instantly killing them."

US: "We promise!"

FAST FORWARD 5 TO 8 YEARS LATER:

HOAG: "Hey...remember when Mike Scotty told us that if you blew air into a woman's coochie (vagina) it would kill them?"

ME: "Hell yeah!"

HOAG: "It doesn't kill them...they just kinda laugh and look at you weird"

Things I Love About Hillary Clinton.

Some might call it love. I call it love.

On Buddy Night we somehow always end up at T.G.I.Fridays. Plenty of great restaurants in our area but there is something about TGIF's that keeps us coming back. It certainly isn't the food. The food is average at best. But it's a fun place, tons of TVs, GREAT wait staff, good music, comfortable tables, and close by. But the food really does kinda suck.

Last night things changed. Possibly forever.

We ate our average steaks and then noticed the new dessert menu.

Prepared at our table by the bartender was freshly made donuts in a bag filled with cinnamon and sugar, shaken in said bag, and then displayed on a plate with some kinda awesome dipping frosting thing.

There is nothing (NOTHING!!) better than fresh hot donuts covered in cinnamon and sugar and then dipped into that frosting dip stuff.

And they're those little donuts. Maybe 15 per bag. $4.00. Could have had TWO bags had my daughter not wasted the $4.00 on the Butterfly Effect video rental.

Moral of this story?

Go somewhere else for dinner, stop at the Olive Garden for their Lemon Cream Cake, and then shoot over to TGIF's for hot cinnamon sugar donuts with frosted dipping elixir.

(Them donuts made me forget all about the dozens of soldiers that have died in Iraq, the long long Cold War that was finally ended by Ronald Reagan, and the circumference of Ted Kennedy's head.)

Danger Bear

So I just get off the phone with Hoag who now answers his phone "Danger Bear, may I help you?"

Do I really want to call my pal Danger Bear?

Do you want me to call him Danger Bear?

Would that be a good thing? Would it last more than a day or two?

What if it stuck? What if I had to spend the rest of my life chummin' around with Danger Bear?

It's been tough enough hangin' out with a guy named Hoagy.

Maybe we could call him Hoagy Bear instead. Or maybe not.

Life is too complicated as it is for me to have to deal with this kinda stuff.

Danger Bear is pretty cool though...

Coats Do Warm*

Have you ever heard of soldiers getting shot when they get near the last day of active duty overseas? Other soldiers don't want to be anywhere near the guy with a day or two left cuz they know an anvil is gonna fall on them or they'll step on land mine or a sniper will take him out.

Or something.

Well, every year me and The Hoag see if we can make it until the last day of October without wearing a coat. Something about prolonging summer.

Or something.

This year is special....it's almost the end of November (NOVEMBER!) and I still haven't worn a coat. One day left. Tomorrow is November 30th and I haven't yet worn a coat.

So to all my friends, please stay away from me tomorrow because I have the feeling that come tomorrow I'm gonna step on a land mine.

Or something.



* Only T will get today's clever title.

Writer's Block

Anyone that writes on any sort of regular basis seems to come up with writer's block.

I'm having the opposite block.

I want to write about everything.

The poverty in the Sudan. New cars. Kramer. Pam Anderson (PamRock). Candy. Baseball. Mel. Baseball in the Sudan. Watching baseball games in the Sudan while eating candy in my new car. With Pam. Or Mel.

Kramer. Mel. PamRock. Watching baseball games at PamRocks house. Sitting in Pam's new car eating candy. Watching baseball games with Mel and Kramer and hearing what they yell at the players.

Driving Mel's new car to Kramer's house and then going to pick up PamRock to watch baseball games. Maybe stop on the way and get some candy.

Maybe just bump into PamRock at the candy store. Invite her into my new car that Mel gave me and we could listen to the baseball game on the radio. Unless there is a breaking news report from the Sudan. About poverty. Or was it about Sudanese candy?

Sitting in Kramer's new white car. Eatin' candy and laughing at the poverty in the Sudan. Makin' up names for Sudanese baseball teams.

But I have writer's block and no Sudanese Baseball Team Names come to mind.

How about the Sudan Ims?

Or maybe The Sudanese Red Sox?

I wish April was here.

Or Pam.

And I wish I had Candy.

The Butterfly Effect

So before I leave work Saturday I get a phone call from home asking if I have two certain movies in stock and can I bring them home.

I have one of them.

I do not have something called The Butterfly Effect.

So I bring home the one they asked for and notice when I get home that they've gone to Blockbuster to rent The Butterfly Effect. For $4.00.

But then I remember that we have The Butterfly Effect TiVo'ed (actually not TiVo'ed, but digitally recorded)

So why doesn't my daughter just watch The Butterfly Effect that we TiVo'ed (not TiVo)?

Why?

Because little Miss Princess wants to watch it in the Living Room and the TiVo (not TiVo) is in the Family Room. And the Family Room is more comfortable, way bigger TV Screen, etc but she prefers the crappier room, the crappier TV, and she also likes spending my $4.00 on rentals.

What's $4.00 you ask?

$4.00 is the amount I send each year to the butterfly relief fund...this year in Africa a butterfly aint gonna be flappin' it's wings.

And it's my daughters fault.

The Day After Thanksgiving.

And things I'm NOT thankful for.

Friggin' scallions in mashed potatoes. What braniac came up with this idea?

"Oh...but you can't even taste them"

THEN. STOP. PUTTING. THEM. IN. THERE.

How many times in your life have you heard that..."Oh....but you can't even taste them"

Over and over and over again cooks of the world say that.

STOP. PUTTING. THEM. IN. THERE.

It's either onions or cheese* or celery or green peppers or some other godawful thing.

I DONT WANT THEM IN MY MASHED POTATOES!!

Mashed potatoes should only have gravy and butter and maybe a sprinkle of pepper in them.

ANYTHING ELSE? SHOVE IT UP YOUR ASS!!!!

Leave the mashed potato alone. It is the perfect mashed food and you just up and ruin it. Going all Emeril on it doesn't improve it.

DO

YOU

UNDERSTAND?

Mashed potatoes equal love.

Mashed potatoes with onions and scallions equal hate.



*(cheese is awesome....just not in mashed potatoes.)

Things I'm thankful for.

Thanksgiving Day is tomorrow so I figured I'd list what I'm thankful for.

In order.

Though I'm leaving out two things I'm more thankful for because they would be ahead of my wifey and I aint so dumb to put them down in writing.

1. Television

2. The Internet

3. Wifey

4. My favorite daughter.

5. B-B-Q sauce

6. My other daughter.

7. My friends. Except Wayne.

8. Sweet Potato Pie

9. Mel and Kramer

10. George W. Bush for keeping America safe.

11. David Ortiz, Manny, and Mike Lowell.

My Dinner With Kramer

As you probably know by now Michael 'Kramer' Richards had a bad weekend. I had dinner and conversation with him last night.

Here is how that went:

ME: "So before we begin would you like a smaller or larger steak?"

KRAMER: "Bigger."

ME: "And after dinner would you prefer a cigar or a..."

KRAMER: "Cigger-rette"

ME: "So before you became famous you had lots of odd jobs....I heard you once worked in a cemetery. What did you do there?"

KRAMER: "Digger"

ME: "And you also worked in the fields in Texas looking for black gold....Texas tea....what did you do there?"

KRAMER: "Oil rigger"

ME: "And you went to college...what was your favorite part of that?"

KRAMER: "Keggers"

ME: "Great steaks, huh? Would you like a beer or wine or maybe some...."

KRAMER: 'Ligger"

ME: "So lets get on with this weekend....your old pal Julie-Louis Dreyfus had some harsh words to say about it."

KRAMER: "Frig her"

ME: "You must have read all the stuff on the Internet about you....you do have a computer, correct?"

KRAMER: " 80 Gigger"

ME: "Lets talk a bit about show biz...who is your favorite actress?"

KRAMER: "Renee Zellweger"

ME: "Actor?"

KRAMER: "Arnold Schwarzenegger"

ME: "Any favorite rock stars?"

KRAMER: "Jagger"

ME: "Any favorite or beloved cartoon characters from childhood?

KRAMER: "Tigger"


And that was the gist of my dinner with Kramer. Seemed like a nice man with no issues.

Bush's Popularity Soars!

It seems over the weekend George got himself one of those Playstation 3s and now everyone loves him.

Next week he's gonna get some of those cool new sneakers.

And then after that some new i-pod-y thing.

It took a few years but he's finally figured out how to get folks to dig him.

He's mulling a back tattoo and a pocketwatch.

Wayne

I had contact from Wayne today.

Be afraid.

Bonus Points

As you know each blog takes hours and hours of research, editing, rewrites, and candy. Today I don't have time so we're gonna play a little game me and the Blonde (Theresa) used to play.

I'm gonna generate 6 random letters ::rolls letter dice::B-A-H-P-D-T and you're gonna make a sentence out of them using each letter as the starting letter of each word. Your sentence will be a 6 word sentence and at the end we'll put them all together to have today's blog. And it has to be in order of said letters.

Got that?

You don't?

Tard.

Notice how the 'random' letters have the letter H? I wonder if anyone will use the word HOAGY in their sentence.

Best sentence gets Bonus Points. And you can enter as often as you like for a small fee.

Sweet Potato Pie

The other night Dan (famous newscaster) Rather was on the Jon (famous fake newscaster) Stewart show and said this:

"Hillary Clinton ran away with it like a hobo with a sweet potato pie"

Typical Dan Ratherism....but that's not the point. The point is Sweet Potato Pie.

Sweet Potato Pie could and should be the next all encompassing catch phrase.

Think about it.

Two planes crash into the World Trade Center and the stunned crowd looks up and says "Sweet Potato Pie!"

The Red Sox win another World Series and the people all over the world leap to their feet screaming "Sweet Potato Pie!"

You're with your lover and just at the moment of truth you scream "Sweet Potato Pie!"

You're the best man at a wedding and have to give the toast....you raise your glass, nod at the bride and groom, and simply say "Sweet Potato Pie!"

You win the lottery...."Sweet Potato Pie!"

You crash up your car...."Sweet Potato Pie!"

You get a paper cut.... "Sweet Potato Pie!"

You're at church and instead of an amen the congregation yells out..."Sweet Potato Pie!"

You need to get rid of some flaky skin on your face you just rub in some Sweet Potato Pie!

And think of history...

As Reagan ends the Cold War by ripping down the Berlin Wall the throngs of adoring Germans scream out Ich Nin Sweet Potato Pie!"

Or JFK..."ask not what your Sweet Potato Pie can do for you....ask what you can do for your Sweet Potato Pie!"

FDR..."The only thing we have to fear is Sweet Potato Pie itself!"

Nixon..."I am not a Sweet Potato Pie!"

Or Bill Clinton...."I. Did Not. Have Sex. With That. Sweet Potato Pie"

(he probably did.)

What does this tell you?

So a few years ago completely out of the blue my face starts getting this wicked weird flaky skin condition. It looked like I had a sunburn and was now peeling.

It was hideous. I thought it might just be dry skin or something and it would go away.

It didn't.

Until Dr. Hoagy gave me some moisturizing cream. I followed his directions and within a few days my skin was back to normal.

And then I read the tube.

Dr. Hoagy gave me hemorrhoid cream.

For my face.

And it worked.

Why Women Don't Spit.

It's really quite simple. Women are bitches.

HUH???!!! What did he just say????

You heard me...... Bitches. Woman are bitches and that's why they don't spit.

You see, spit has a 'bitchy enzyme' in it and women need it to survive. Men don't need it and aint bitchy so we spit it out. Often.

Woman swallow the spit giving them their daily dose of Bitchy.

Now once in while you'll see a woman hock a loogie and you can bet your bitchy boots she'll probably be fairly pleasant the rest of the day.

But as you can probably tell women don't spit much. Cuz they're bitches. Spit-swallowin' bitches.

I aint making this up (I might be). It's science. Spitology.

The more you spit the nicer you are.

But Bitches, just don't do it in front of me. I like ya all girly. Even if ya are bitchy.

(Once in a great while I'll go a week or so without spitting...usually around tax time)

Never forget.

As you might already know, I hate making fun of my customers. Sometimes.

So this guy comes in my shop the other day that I haven't seen in about ten years or so. And even back then he only came in a few times a year and rarely bought anything. 79 IQ kinda guy (79 is dumb, right?) But I remembered his blank look and riveting conversation. Here was the back and forth from the other day:

ME: "Hi! Have you've been? I haven't seen you in years!"

DOLT: "Good."

ME: "Good."

DOLT: "I still have that book I bought from you ten years ago."

ME ::thinking to myself....How the heck would I know what book this tard bought ten years ago???::: "Great!"

DOLT: "You remember that book right?....It was right over there ::points in the general direction of a book case:: "

ME: "Of course."


I hope he comes in another ten years and asks if I remember what he was wearing...

Gone for Botox weekend

Back on Monday.

One for the Ladies.

As you probably know there are 'rules' about urinals. Never stand next to someone if you don't have to. Always keep your eyes straight ahead. No talking. No more than three shakes. Flush urinal with left elbow. And never ever ever glance down and to the side.

Years ago one of those rules got broken. Here is that story.

I'm standing at the urinal when this guy saunters up to the urinal next to me and starts to urinate (Thats what we do at urinals) and for some reason that God only knows, I glanced down and to the left. I NEVER GLANCE DOWN. I NEVER LOOK TO THE SIDES.

The guy next to me had the largest, thickest penis ever seen on planet earth. It was gigantic. It was dangerous. It was like something hanging in the window of a deli.

How the heck this guy walks I have no idea. How he keeps it hidden from humans I have no idea. It truly was a specimen. It was scary big.

And I still remember it. And I don't really want to. But it was that big.

And I've never ever once looked down and to the sides again.

I think.


(It's kinda sad that somewhere that dude is telling a similar story except he's not mentioning that my penis looks like something hanging at deli counter.)

The Dolphin Lestat

If you've been reading this blog you've heard about the finding of Dolphins with mutated little legs (true) how they will soon be walking among us surface dwellers.

We decided to have an interview with a dolphin (just to see what they're all about)

IANO: "We'll start with some very general questions....Beatles or the Stones?"

DOLPHIN: "B-eeeeeeee-tles"

IANO: Who is your favorite Rolling Stone?"

DOLPHIN: "Ronni-eeeeeeeeeee or K-eeeeeeeeee-th"

IANO: "Who is your favorite blogger?"

DOLPHIN: "Clink-eeeeeeeeeeeee"

IANO: "If you were President of the United States what city would you most like to bomb?"

DOLPHIN: "Par-eeeeeeeeeee!"

IANO: "What is your favorite candy?"

DOLPHIN: "R-eeeeeeeee-c-eeeeeeeee Cups"

IANO: "What baseball team sucks?"

DOLPHIN: "Yank-eeeeeeeeeeeeee-s"

IANO: "Favorite color?"

DOLPHIN: "Gr-eeeeeeeeeeeeee-n"

IANO: "Favorite Classic TV show?"

DOLPHIN: "The Cos-b-eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee Show"

IANO: "Who would you most like to hang out with?"

DOLPHIN: "Hoag-eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

IANO: "Any thoughts on this weeks election?"

DOLPHIN: "I'm still in a state of shock that the Dems won both the House and the Senate."

I'll honor my vow.

I'm moving out of Alec Baldwin's house.

Massachusetts Voters No Longer Racist!

Bay State voters turn their hatred towards homely white women!

And I say it's about time!

Send these ugly bitches back to where they came from!

Election Day

Today is election day and in Massachusetts the hot button 'Question #1' is whether or not grocery stores can sell wine. Seems Senator Ted Kennedy voted yes on that question. He also voted wine for Attorney General, wine for State Auditor, and wine for State Treasurer. No flip-floppin' for Ted.

On the Massachusetts ballot a bunch of the 'contests' were unopposed races....needless to say I wrote in Hoagy for US Senator. That would be pretty cool to make Buddy Night an official state holiday.

And now for Hoag's adventures in voting. He went into the booth, did his business, and then pulled open the curtain only to proclaim to nobody in particular "We're out of toilet paper in here!"

And Ted Kennedy voted for wine once again. And scotch.

They Call Me MISTER Flipper!

Did you see the news over the weekend about the mutated dolphin that was found?

It seems that it had little remnants of legs and scientists believe this helps prove the whole evolution theory thing. Dolphins somehow went into the ocean and developed their swimming and smiling ability.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

What this tells me is that dolphins are just NOW getting legs and are ready to walk among us. They're smart. They'll take our jobs, steal our wives, run for office, and worst of all...move into our neighborhoods!

And you know what happens when the dolphins move into the neighborhood.

Crime goes up. Way up! Unwanted pregnancy? Up? Graffiti? Up. Drug use? Up. Property values? Down.

And of course they won't speak English. Pretty soon MY kids will start doing that EEEEEEE! EEEE! EEEE! dolphin talk and crap.

And smiling ALL. THE. TIME. I hate that.

And I'm pretty sure the dolphins will start wearing wicked baggy pants. And jewelry. And they come up with some horrible music that I can't stand.

And once the dolphins get welcomed into society how long before the sharks and eels and barracuda? Huh? Answer me that Mr. Scientist.

And you know in your heart that dolphins are lazy and will just start getting welfare and food stamps and stuff.

Keep the freakin' dolphins in the ocean where they belong!

Maybe Bush will build a big fence around our shorelines or something.

PS;
and don't forget to get out and vote: Republicans Tuesday, Democrats Wednesday.

Saddam Hussein Found Guilty

Sentenced to death.

Democrats Blame Bush!

Alec Baldwin

Now cooler than William Shatner.

There.

I said it.

(A wickless) Candle In The Wind

I own a small store that deals in some collectible celebrity stuff. The Beatles, Marilyn Monroe, etc.

The key with collectibles of this nature is that items when the celebrity was alive is usually worth more than the crap that gets made after they die. Or breakup like the Beatles. And collectibles of the star BEFORE they were famous is sometimes worth the most.

Do you understand all of that?

The second thing is I hate making fun of my customers (I love making fun of my customers).

Do you understand that? Good....cuz I'd like to relate a phone call I had yesterday.

::Phone rings::

ME: "Hello...Wicked Cool Collectible Store...How may I help you?"

THE GAL: "Hi...I was wondering if you buy Marilyn Monroe memorabilia"

ME: "We sure do...what do you have?"

THE GAL: "I have a calendar of her"

ME: "Do you know what year it's from?"

THE GAL: "Yes...its real old...it's from 1984."

ME: ::me thinking how NOT old that is when it comes to Marilyn Monroe stuff:: "Ummm...I'm not really looking for that right now. I'm looking for things of Marilyn from when she was alive...pre-1962 stuff"

THE GAL: "I'm pretty sure the pictures in the calendar were taken while she was alive"

ME: "Possibly. Maybe you could try ebay for that. Thank you."

Pig Heads, Pig Heads, Roly Poly Pig Heads.

So Lois sends me this link the other day about a truck crashing and spewing two tons (a million pounds) of pig heads all over the highway.

At first I thought 'gross'...and then as I thought about it some more I kinda wanted to see two tons (a million pounds) of pig heads all over the highway.

And then I started to think why the heck is a truck carrying two tons (a million pounds) of pig heads in the first place? A Halloween thing? Satanic Ritual Store?

And then today I'm driving into work this morning and an eighteen wheeler (large truck) passes me and I KNOW, I JUST KNOW that truck is carrying animal heads.

But what kind? Is it a truck full of two tons (a million pounds) of puppy heads? Chipmunk heads?

And then more and more trucks start whizzing by me and I realize the whole freakin' truckin industry is part of the whole animal head transport conspiracy!

Where are the heads going? Where are the bodies of all of these critters? Are they going to the same place? For the same purpose?

It's way creepy knowing that each and every truck on our highways are filled with puppy heads.

It's also creepy knowing that John Kerry came ::this close:: to being President.

I also wonder how much two tons of John Kerry heads would weigh.

Dancing Without Testicles

About two months or so ago I started watching with my wife something called Dancing With The Stars (B-level losers paired with professional dancers in a dancing contest) Within 24 hours of watching the first episode I was contacted by Man Club that if I was going to continue watching Dancing With The Stars I would have to have my testicles surgically removed. I knew Wifey enjoyed the show so I agreed to the operation. It's actually kinda simple and they do this new procedure where they detach them but they are easily put back on using some sort of microscopic zipper thingy.

So anyhow week after week I tune into Dancing With The Stars, unzip my testicles, put them in the freezer until the next day, and then continue watching Dancing With The Stars. And a funny thing happens. I start judging the 'Stars' on their dancing ability as if I know I Rhumba from from a Kimba from a Fox Trot to a Waltz. The dancing team will finish their routine and I'll say crap like "That was a 9.0!" or "Look at the arm movements on Joey Lawerence...fabulous!"

I find myself wanting to buy Sara Evans CDs and watcing Mario Lopez (M-Lo) in whatever it is he's in. I want silk shirts and a spray on tan! I want to dance and skip and embrace life!

But then the show is over for another week. I zip back on my testicles. I go back to watching LOST and CSI and war movies and football and westerns. I spit. Maybe swear some. Eat red meat.

And then before you can say "I'll trade you three Bicentennial Thimbles for two of your Vatican Thimbles".... Dancing With The Stars is on again and I'm all about the Sambo or Rambo or whatever they're called. I'm back to shouting "It's a 10.0" or "Look at his form and style"

All without my testicles of course.

They are in the freezer.

We interrupt today's scheduled blog to bring you this Special Report

Today's blog was going to be about how Ronald Reagan ended the Cold War and how teachers are overpaid but this came across the wire and somehow seems more important:

This morning while talking with Wifey I had a slight runny nose...here is how that conversation went:

ME: "Do I have anything hanging out of my nose?"

WIFEY: "You always do."

Things we DON'T want for Halloween

1. We don't want candy with razors in them.

2. We don't want one of those litle boxes that contain two...maybe three Milk Duds (Though we like Milk Duds)

3. We don't want one of those little boxes with two...maybe three DOTS in them (Though we like DOTS)

4. We don't want Dum Dums. They are for losers.

5. We don't want pennies.

6. Candy Corn. We love it...but not from you on Halloween.

7. Nothing homemade. Unless it has the words Pork and Chop in it.

8. We don't want white chocolate. EVER.

9. We don't want non-name brands.

10. We don't want anything unless its from the Milky Way, Snickers, Reeses, Hershey, 3 Musketeers, Kit Kat, or Cadbury families.

11. And the ONLY salty thing allowed is the PayDay candy bar.

12. We also don't want any "UNICEF" kids ringing our doorbell.

13. Or anyone past say 7:30.

14. And anyone that has a costume I don't understand. Understand?

15. And I don't want John Kerry, Hillary Clinton, or any of the Kennedys.

The Slobber Knocker.

So yesterday they announce on the radio that this Saturday (TODAY!!) there is going to be a Slobber Knocker and instantly I'm excited!

My first thought is to get someone to work the store, call up Hoag, and get our asses down to the Slobber Knocker.

I know it will involve steamed hot dogs, fried dough, and the newest greatest carnival ride EVER!

Or maybe Hawaiian Tropic models and cocoa butter and happy endings.

Possibly a maze filled with candy and kittens and everything fried.

I aint missing this Slobber Knocker for anything!

There's gonna be mountain surfing on ironing boards! Baseball and broads and candy and root beer floats! I'll be slobberin' and knockin' and laughin' and lovin'

Maybe it will involve dolphins...or a parade with bears and tigers and meerkats dressed as confederate soldiers!

I don't know what the Slobber Knocker is. BUT. I. WILL. BE. THERE.

I'll be King of the Slobber Knockers! It will be fun and I will remember it forever and ever. We'll eat cotton candy and have our faces painted and run in a field of puppies! The Slobber Knocker IS ON!

And I am it's King.

But The Slobber Knocker was none of that.

The Slobber Knocker was the weatherman's way of saying it was gonna rain with lots of wind.

I wish I was dead.

WARNING! WARNING! Not Funny Alert!

Things always work out for me. Good seats at concerts. The last piece of cake. Refunds from insurance companies. All sorts of small things just seem to go my way. Wifey thinks I'm lucky. It aint luck. Things just work out somehow.

So anyhow...two years ago I get a phone call that my Mom might be dying and to get to the hospital. I hang up the phone and in walks Bacon Ace who runs the store for me while I rush off to the hospital. (Would I have closed the store if he didn't show up?) I get to the hospital, meet my brother there, and then find out Mom died about ten minutes before. Possibly the most horrible thing thats ever happened to me. Me and Bro decide to go straight to the funeral home and make the arrangements, tie up all loose ends, and then go home.

I'm at home. My Mom just died. And I'm sitting there. And I'm watching TV. The Red Sox. The fourth game of the 2004 World Series. And they win. The Boston Red Sox WIN the World Series a couple of hours after my Mom dies. The Boston Red Sox. I'm jumping for joy on the day my Mom dies. I run to a friends house in the neighborhood and toast the Red Sox. On the day my Mom dies. It's very strange. I've loved the Red Sox more than any 'thing' in my life and they go and win the World Series on October 27, 2004. The day Mom died.

Like I said...things work out for me in some weird way. How can I relate something as trivial as the Red Sox winning to my Mom's death? The Red Sox winning wasn't trivial. It was awesome. And Moms death was horrible. They just happened on the same day.

It's actually kinda cool. When I think of that glorious moment of Foulke getting the ball and tossing it to Minky at first...I think of Mom. And when I think of Mom...I think of the Red Sox. I'm sure there is some hidden goofy metaphor about life and death and stuff that I could prattle on about, but there aint. My Mom died and the Red Sox won the World Series two years ago today.

I miss those 2004 Red Sox. And I miss my Mom.

(I hope next October some relative I don't like dies and the Red Sox win again.)

I aint gonna vote but I WILL complain afterwards. So there.

I watched the debate last night. It had the four candidates for Governor of Massachusetts.

I can either vote for:

1. A chick that looks like an ugly chick.

2. A chick that looks like a dude.

3. A dude that sounds like a chick

4. Or a dude that has a name like a chick.

They all said they would:

1. Balance the budget.

2. Fight crime.

3. Hire more teachers.

4. Not be in the pocket of special interest groups

5. Reduce property taxes.

6. Fix the roads and bridges.

7. Fertilize my lawn.

8. And a bunch of other stuff.

9. Work hard for the commonwealth.

Here is what they'll really do:

1. Tell me I can't park on the side of the road when there is a snowstorm.

The Retarded

Ever hear me talk about my Cousin Saul? Have I ever mentioned he's retarded?

He went to see the movie The Departed yesterday and told me he didn't like it and would never see a Marty Scorsee movie again.

Jeez...why didn't you like it Saul? Because of the great acting? The great plot? The snappy dialogue? Maybe you were turned off by the violence in a freakin GANGSTER MOVIE you stupid retahd!

Maybe you were turned off by the swearing in a freakin' GANGSTER MOVIE!!

Too much blood for you sissy-boy? In a GANGSTER MOVIE.

Maybe he hated it because of the awesome soundtrack.

Like I said...he's retarded.

You haven't seen The Departed yet? Here's another hint on just how far down his syndrome of hate has gone...he hated the Shawshank Redemption. He probably hates Field of Dreams also.

Here's a tip....if Cousin Saul hates a movie, there is a good chance you'll like it.

He hates everything. Except cheese. And they don't make many movies about cheese.

Though they should.

PS
I wish I had an ice pick and was jabbing his eyes out.

TiVo Brand Gelatin

Sitting with daughter last night....here is how that went:

ME: "Did we TiVo that?"

DAUGHTER: "We don't have TiVo"

ME: "I call it TiVo...should I have said Did You Digitally Record That?"

DAUGHTER: "Whatever" :::totally wants no part of the upcoming conversation:::

ME: "Don't you ask for a Kleenex when you need a tissue?"

DAUGHTER: "I ask for a tissue"

ME: "YOU DO NOT!"

DAUGHTER: "Well I don't ask for Kleenex"

ME: You're just like Cousin Saul who will actually say...'Please pass the JELL-O Brand gelatin'....instead of just Jell-O. How would you ask for Royal Brand gelatin?"

DAUGHTER: "I would never ask for Royal Brand Gelatin"

ME: "When you search something on the internet do you say I need to search something on the World Wide Web or do you just say 'I need to Google something'?"

DAUGHTER: "I don't say I need to Google something"

ME: *sigh*...When you want money for a car, please just Ask Jeeves"

(I TiVo stuff, Xerox stuff, use Keenex, eat JELL-O, drink Coke, wear Levis...regardless of the brand...well, actually I only wear Levi Brand Blue Jeans)

Yet another blog making fun of Hoag's daintyness

As you all know my friend Hoagy has one of the world's largest thimble collections. Let's interview him shall we...

ME: "So Hoag tell us, how long you've collected thimbles?"

HOAG: "I don't collect thimbles."

ME: "Is it true you have thimbles from all fifty states and Puerto Rico?"

HOAG: "I don't collect thimbles."

ME: "We've heard you had specially made shelves to house your collection...is it true it's made from imported teak?"

HOAG: "I don't collect thimbles."

ME: "We've heard your prized piece is the one that has the Lords Prayer emblazoned on the top...any others that are special to you?"

HOAG: "I don't collect thimbles."

ME: "We've heard the value of thimbles is skyrocketing...what do you estimate your collection to be worth?"

HOAG: "I don't collect thimbles."

ME: "What first attracted you to thimbles?"

HOAG: "I used to help my mom sew buttons on my shirts."

ME: "You wore dresses, didn't you?"

HOAG: "I don't collect thimbles."

ME: "You wore dresses, didn't you?"

HOAG: "Only while sewing"

ME: "Do you have any manly hobbies?"

HOAG: "I collect thimbles"

ME: "That aint manly"

HOAG: "Is wearing dresses?"

ME: "Nope."

HOAG: "Is that a french fry in my sewing basket?"

ME: "It's all yours buddy"

The Fall Foliage Tour

ME: "Have you ever seen such a vibrant maple tree before?"

HOAG: "It's absolutely stunning!"

ME: "Quick take a picture of it!"

HOAG: "We should pull over and take one of the leaves and press it in wax paper and put it inside a book so future generations can see it's wonder!"

ME: "Splendid idea!"

HOAG: "Oh my God! Look at the orange hues on that Magnolia!"

ME: ::tinkles in pants::

HOAG: "If only our wives could see these colors!"

ME: "Look at the way the reds blend with the oranges and then the yellows....all with a nice mix of greens thrown in for contrast!"

HOAG: ::tinkles in pants::

ME: "Lets stand in that field and just spin around and let the colors overwhelm us with it's bounty of autumn!"

HOAG: "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

ME: "Hoag?"

HOAG: "Yes Steve?"

ME: "I'm glad you're my friend"

HOAG: "Ditto right back at you"

ME: "Is that a french fry in the back seat?"

ME AND HOAG IN UNISON: "Dibs!"

This is the one about the cookout where everyone was supposed to bring something and Hoagy showed up with a bowl of wax lips.

Cousin Saul was having a cookout one summer and everyone who was invited was supposed to bring something....a salad, soft drinks, jarts, hot dogs, burgers, crackers etc.

Hoag showed up with a bowl of wax lips.

Oh crap...the title kinda gave away the punchline.

And Merry Christmas to you also.

So about ten years ago I'm putting together a Christmas stocking for my Mom when I think what a great idea it would be to put in a few gift certificates from a local movie theater.

So on my way home one night I stop at the cinema and stand in line to get the certificates and in front of me is this stunning woman. Not flashy slutty stunning....but Classy. Dignified. Tasteful. Gorgeous. Nice tailored clothes, perfect skin, great shoes and coat. Hair was great. Wicked tall. Flawless makeup...but in no way was this broad full of her self or trying to get attention. But she got mine.

So I strike up a conversation with her (the line was pretty long and moving slow) and she's buying gift certificates for her Mom also, we touch on a few movies, TV shows, places to eat in the area, small talk, Christmas, where each lives and on and on. A very nice pleasant conversation in the middle of Christmas madness.

She's now bought her gift certificates and is standing by the curb waiting to cross the street...I finish my transaction and stand next to her as I also have to cross the street to get to my car. Here is how the rest of the conversation went:

ME: "You know...I don't normally say stuff like this to strangers but I just want to say that you're one of the most gorgeous women I've ever seen"

HER: "Get away from me you Freak"

SugarTits

So guess who is back in the news? Yup. Mel Gibson. Seems he's out promoting his new movie and he's going on all the shows and rehashing the whole "Jews suck" thing from this past summer.

The beauty of it is that I got to read all of Mel's Jew bashing comments...it's actually rather amusing but becomes killer funny once you step inside the police station with Mel and he calls one of the policewomen "SugarTits". Is that an insult? Do women really hate being called SugarTits? Sounds kinda sweet to me. Sugar=Sweet. Tits=Breasts. SugarTits=SweetBreasts. This is a problem?

Why didn't the media bring this up before? Why didn't Mel? Now that I've heard that Mel called some chick SugarTits I'm kinda on his side again.

Though I've never used the term 'SugarTits' before (I'm partial to Sweater Puppies) I think I'm gonna start.

Or would that offend all you SugarTitted Jew bitches?

25 years ago today

Today is our 25th wedding anniversary and I would just like to thank my darling wife for 19 wonderful years of marriage.

Hawaii Earthquake...Experts give it a 6.6...I give it a 10.0

Yesterday there was a huge earthquake in Hawaii (a group of islands in the Pacific Ocean) and after the earthquake CNN started showing what was happening afterwards....and what happened afterwards was shocking.

The Hawaiians were lined up orderly in front of stores and following the instructions of the shop keepers. Two people at a time were allowed in, they would quickly and politely buy what they needed using shells or flowers as money, leave, and then the store would allow two more people in and on and on it went all day long.

If that earthquake had happened in the United States you can bet your stolen boots there would have been massive looting. Rioting. Guys with TVs on their shoulders. But not in Hawaii.

Hopefully we can learn from our foreign friends in the Pacific.

(and it even makes me more proud knowing I have 3% Hawaiian blood running through my veins....or is that Cherokee blood I have running through my veins?....whatever)

Diggin' on the Brown

A few years ago monkeys were all the rage. Folks adored them. And then somehow pirates became the new monkeys and everyone just adored pirates.

And today? Well, today it seems that bears are the new pirates. Folks are just diggin' on the brown. We love 'em. Colbert loves 'em. Letterman loves 'em. Hoag loves 'em. Bears are where it's at. They're the happening mammal.

But you know what? In a year or two something is gonna be the new bear. Hard to believe that now...but it's gonna happen. Whoever thought monkeys and pirates would be out?

I think we should start preparing now...

Transcript of the first ever I AINT NO OPRAH podcast

ME: ::testing testing one two three testing testing"

HOAG: ::taptaptap:: "Is this thing on?"

ME: "What thing?"

HOAG: "The pod"

ME: "That aint a pod"

HOAG: "What is it?"

ME: "Microphone"

HOAG: "What's a podcast anyhow?"

ME: "It's kinda like radio except way crappier"

HOAG: "What should we do our first ::snicker:: podcast on?"

ME: "Huh?"

HOAG: "We're doing a live podcast...what should it be on?"

ME: "Hitler?"

HOAG: "He was bad, huh?"

ME: "Yup"

HOAG: 'You gonna eat those fries?"

ME: "Hey!...Who is that behind you?"

HOAG: :: turns around and looks::

ME:::Dips fingers in Hoags drink...washes off ketchup::

HOAG: "I didn't see anyone"

ME: "She's right there"

HOAG: ::turns around and looks once again::

ME: ::swipes a steak tip and three french fries"

HOAG: "Damn, I missed her again"

ME: "I think she liked you"

HOAG: "Podcasts are cool, huh?"

ME: "What's a podcast?"

HOAG: "It's kinda like radio except on the computer and way crappier"

ME: "Why is it all the rage?"

HOAG: "What's all the rage?"

ME: "Podcasts"

HOAG: "What's a podcast?"

ME: "It's kinda like radio except on the computer and way crappier"

HOAG: "Is that a french fry on the ground?"

ME AND HOAG IN UNISON: "Dibs!"

10/11

Does anybody else find it odd that a plane just crashed into a building in NYC on the three year, one month anniversary of the Second Anniversary of 9/11? .

Christmas in October

Before I got married I had the quintessential (I needed spell check) bachelor pad. I lived in this huge apartment complex with Roomie. Though Roomie didn't invent snorting cocaine, he sure perfected it.

So anyhow, one year shortly after Christmas we had this party (as was the norm), and sometime around 1:00 AM I went to bed with the party still going on (as was the norm).

When I woke up the next morning there were about 4 or 5 dead Christmas trees in my bedroom. And then about 5 or 6 more lining the hallway. And then in the living room and kitchen area there were about 30 or more strewn about. Sad looking things. Strands of wrinkled tinsle...broken limbs....browning needles.

Seems Hoagy, some pirates, couple of bears, and possibly Coked-Up Roomie thought it would be fun to fill the house with dead discarded Christmas trees that were left by the dumpsters in this large apartment complex I lived in.

I'm guessing there are still pine needles embedded in that carpet.

I'm also guessing that Roomie is still awake.

As is Hoag.

(I lied about pirates and bears being involved)

Pirates-Bears=Stamps (the new math)

Today's blog was going to be about pirates and bears but then I went into the post office.

The guy in front of me bought one stamp. One. Stamp. Is his life so bad that this stamp is going to be the last one he'll ever need? Is he going to his room, writing his suicide note, addressing it, placing the stamp on envelope, and then blasting his brains out?

Or does he only have .39 cents?

If he only has .39 cents shouldn't he blast his brains out?

If I see him in line again...only buying one stamp....may I blast his brains out?

It just must suck so bad when you've reached the depths this guy has that you know you only need one more stamp. I wonder what I'll use my last stamp on?

(I sometimes buy stamps just to lick the backs of them. Or stick 'em on my nose or something.)

No pirates no bears...OH MY!

Today's blog was going to be about pirates and bears but then a simple conversation with Wifey changed that.

This morning we were discussing people's looks and the hows and whys of why folks are attracted to one another...here is how that conversation went:

ME: "Do you like my looks?"

WIFEY: "It's not your looks I have the problem with."

And that my friends is why we aint talkin' about bears and pirates.

Chronomentrophobia (sissies)

As you know, I hate making fun of people and their eccentricities...but I really, REALLY have to make fun of folks with chronomentrophobia.

As you should also.

What is chronomentrophobia you ask?

It's the fear of clocks. Yup...clocks.

According to some website that treats this 'horrible' condition 'At some point in your past, there was likely an event linking clocks and emotional trauma."

Sack up Nancy!

Its a clock. It ticks. It tocks (though it doesn't talk)

So what was so horrible that happened that made you (PansyBoy) afraid of clocks?

1. Was there a clock around when a shark was gnawing off you leg?

2. Was there a clock around when Uncle Priest sat you on his lap?

3. Was there a clock around when you were on fire on the 74th floor of the World Trade Center?

4. Was there a clock around when you were in that tub filled with spiders and bears?

5. Was there a clock pinned on that evil clown?

6. Was there a clock on the wall when the prison guard was loving you?

7. Is there an evil clock BEHIND YOU RIGHT THIS VERY SECOND!???

GOTCHA!

Let's thank Hoagy for saving our lives.

I've been hangin' out with Hoagy for about 35 years now and I STILL learn new stuff from him. Here's what I learned last night:

1. If you should run into a Grizzly Bear out in the wild and said Grizzly puts down one paw followed by another make sure you put your coat up high over your head so you appear bigger...it might scare off said Grizz because he now thinks you're a formidable foe. Thank you Hoag for once again saving my life.

2. If you should run into a Grizzly Bear out in the wild and said Grizzly puts down both paws at the same time there is a good chance said Grizzly is going to eat you....so get down on the ground, face down, and cover up your head area. Thank you Hoag for once again saving my life.

3. If you should run into a Black Bear out in the wild and it runs toward you it means the bear wants to eat you....best thing to do is hit said Black Bear in the snout. Thank you Hoag for once again saving my life.

4. If you should be out at a restaurant and a hot waitress starts to approach you, this is what Hoagy told me to do ...ummmm.....I forget..ummmm....I think it was something to with hitting her in her snout.

PS

I might have the Grizzly advice wrong...so do the former on the latter. Or something.

I'm gonna have a sexy birthday.

Somehow I'm on Victoria's Secret mailing list and somehow they know my birthday is coming up this month.

I've had happy birthdays and crappy birthdays. Surprise birthdays and thirtieth birthdays....but I've never had a SEXY BIRTHDAY. Now somehow Vicky thinks giving me $10.00 off on a push-up bra is gonna make MY birthday sexy. Should I wear said push-up bra? Will that really be sexy? And only on my birthday? Would me wearing a push-up bra (and angel wings) say...three days after my birthday not be so sexy? What really makes a birthday sexy? It can't possibly be me in a push-up bra. Or can it?

Can you imagine the sexiness of my birthday if that was a $20.00 off gift card? If I was in charge of Victoria's Secret (and who's to say I'm not?) I'd make those gift cards read: HAVE A SEXY DAY. Why limit sexy days just to my birthday? And do other folks only get these discount cards on MY birthday? Is it my birthdate that is really THE sexy date on the calendar?

Well,...it is buddy night tonight...maybe I'll slip the card in the Hoags wallet so he too can be sexy on my birthday.

I hope you're all sexy on my birthday!...but not as sexy as me. Cuz it is my birthday afterall. And my birthday is gonna be a Sexy Birthday.

Not today. Later in the month. Right around SexyDay.

Sexy Birthday to me! Sexy Birthday to me! Sexy Birthday dear I AINT NO OPRAH...Sexy Birthday to me!

An actual thought provoking conversation with my 16 year old daughter.

DAUGHTER: "Dad?"

ME: "Yeah?"

DAUGHTER: "You don't use urinals, do you?"

Terrorists come in all shapes and sizes and rural farmlands

I would just like to say thank you to the Bush Administration for what they did yesterday at that terrorist school in Nickel Odeon, Pennsylvania. The Amish are a threat to National Security and it took guts to infiltrate their headquarters and take out 5 of their most dangerous operatives:

1. Sara Azi Abdul

2. Becky Hussein Marackabet

3. Suzie Atta

4. Jessica bin Laden

5. Laura Moussaui

I also think the idea of building a giant fence around Lancaster County, PA is a great idea and should keep the terrorists out of America....and Mexico.

God Bless America, George Bush, and the brave American that lost his life in the defense of this great land.

Prisoner of War

So I'm driving to work this morning mentally writing today's blog (It was gonna be all about cheese and crackers) when all of a sudden I notice the guy in front of me had one of those special license plates proclaiming that he was an EX-POW. He's wearing that license plate as a badge of honor.

HEY DOUCHEBAG...that plate proclaims that you were a crappy soldier and got caught by some 20 year old Kraut or Charlie or something and sat out the rest of the war in some cushy hotel eating cheese and crackers while the real soldiers were getting shot at.

Stop wearing it so proudly.

(Notice the clever way I still managed to work in cheese and crackers into today's blog?)

Tiny Beatles or Big Broad?

This is an ad from a magazine back in 1965. Look carefully. It claims it is a life size poster of the Beatles.

Now either the gal holding the 'life-sized' poster is an Amazonian Princess or the Beatles were just four talented Lilliputians.

Or the ad was just lying.

(I like the Rolling Stones better than the tiny Beatles)

The Saga of Weasel and Spud

Let me start by telling you who Weasel and Spud are.

For those of you that have been reading this blog for a while you'll remember Weasel as the driver of the car during the Great Bowling Shoe giveaway of 1975. He is also the older brother of Spud.

Spud who recently started reading and posting on this blog is Weasel's younger brother. Spud is also known for talking with the police while hanging with Hoagy.

I'm going to try my best to remember the facts of The Saga of Weasel and Spud but I'm sure I'll mess up some of the particulars. Too bad. I'm doing my best.

I think it was the summer of 1975 when Spud and Weasel's Dad offered them a job at the cement and brick company he worked for. It involved getting up wicked early, working their asses off, and basically giving up a summer of fun with me and Hoag.

Their job was to stack bricks. Lots of bricks. Mountains of bricks. The bricks were in huge piles in this vacant lot and they were supposed to neatly stack said bricks on pallets in a I think groups of 500 bricks. For each pallet they did, they would get $5.00. At the end of the week they would tell the foreman how many pallets they stacked and then get paid.

"I did 17 pallets"

"I did 19 pallets this week"

And on and on throughout the summer.

Well, Spud and Weasel were living large that summer. Cigarettes by the carton, new clothes, stereos, and junk food galore. Cash like they never had before.

Me and Hoag rested at the pool.

We barely saw them...they got up early...worked hard....and crashed early at night because of exhaustion.

Me and Hoag rested by the pool.

Every week. Covered in dust. Exhausted they worked.

Me and Hoag rested by the pool.

And then the summer came to a close and their foreman went out to the brickyard to inspect their work and discovered that Weasel and Spud didn't stack any bricks. They sat around all stinkin' summer smoking cigarettes, drinkin' Hawaiian Punch, and driving their Dad's Mustang around the brickyard and reporting each week that they stacked numerous pallets of bricks.

30 years later I'm pretty sure they're both still grounded.

Health Care

I'm self-employed. I choose to pay for my own health insurance and it costs me $14,000.00 a year for me, Wifey, and two kids.

Now over the course of said year we might go to the doctor or hospital a few times a year and maybe burn up say $2000.00 a year in actual services. So at end of the year I show a net loss of roughly $12,000.00 a year on health care.

Still awake?

What I'm hoping for is someone in my family (not me) gets some wicked rare illness...maybe a year long coma....some long term treatable cancer....you know...something that will cost a TON of money that my health care will cover.

Just ONCE I want to be ahead of them by a hundred grand or two.

I love TV!

I watched the new Ted Danson sitcom last night.

And liked it. I might in fact be a special needs person (retard)

Sunday night I watched about 10 minutes of some crappy new Sally Field 'drama'...I liked it better when she was a nun and could fly. Or when she was a teenager and could surf.

I also watched that new show called Studio 60 with Matthew Perry. I didn't actually watch it with Matthew Perry...he just starred in it. It's pretty darn good. So far.

Have you watched any new shows? What should I be watching?

I love TV!

She probably doesn't do windows anyhow...

A girl came in my store the other day and asked for a job application...here is how the conversation went:

GIRL THAT JUST DOESN'T GET IT: "Hi...could I have a job application"

ME: "Hi...I'm not looking to hire anyone right now...thank you though"

GIRL THAT JUST DOESN'T GET IT: "I just want to fill out an application"

ME: "I'm not looking to hire anyone...thank you"

GIRL THAT JUST DOESN'T GET IT: "But could you just put my application on file?"

ME: "I'm just a small operation I don't really keep applications on file and don't plan on hiring anyone for the next 5 years or so"

GIRL THAT JUST DOESN'T GET IT: "Could I fill one out anyhow just in case you change your mind?"

ME: "The only way we'll be hiring anyone is if I die of cancer"

GIRL THAT JUST DOESN'T GET IT: "Could I leave my name and number just in case?"

ME: "Sure"

Girl fills out name and phone number, thanks me and then leaves. I carefully place name and phone number in my application file.

So if I should die of cancer make sure you go to the town landfill and sift through all the papers and get her number and hire her. She's a go-getter.

Vagina (snicker)

Because you demanded it!

Today's blog will be about vagina.

So I'm reading the October issue of ESSENCE magazine and it has this article on the vagina and how to care for it (snicker)

One part of the article mentions that you shouldn't sleep in your underwear...that you should let you vagina breath. I'm in my 40s and I never knew women breathed out of their vaginas. Thank God they don't talk out of them.

I wish I could breath out of my penis. I also wish I could talk out of my penis.

But anyhow...back to vagina.

In the article it also mentions that a woman shouldn't douche because it also kills off the good bacteria and that the vagina is self cleaning.

I wish my car was self cleaning.

I also wish I could talk out of my penis.

The man who shouted 'tequila' in hit song dies

That's what the headline said in the news today.

Not his name. Not his bands name. Not the name of the song.

He is now and forever known as the man who shouted 'tequila' in a hit song.

I never shouted tequila.

Will my obit read:
'Man who never shouted tequila died.'

TEQUILA!!

Not now it won't.

Bin Laden dead? NoOprah Down?

I'm not sure on either.

It's the way Hoagy rolls.

Normally on Buddy Night I pick up Hoagy and I do the driving. He does the drinking.

Last night it would have been WAY out of my way to pick him up so I told him to meet me at the chosen restaurant. I also reminded him that he might not want to drink if he was going to drive home.

At 7:30 (the meeting time) Hoag showed up in a Black Stretch Limo.

A $300.00 for 5 hours Black Stretch Limo. For buddy night.

Thank God I have the word douchebag in my arsenal.

They love to urinate for me

So I get home late last night from my volunteer work at the Children's Hospital(I loved when they did Honky Tonk Woman) and there is a note on the counter informing me that "the dog hasn't peed or pooped all day long"

So I take 'the dog' (the best and smallest dog EVER) out to the garage to 'pee and poop' and she lets out this enormous amount of urine. Now why she didn't do that before I got home I have no idea.

What is it about me that makes broads want to urinate?

Cuz it happens often.

I think it's good for the gander...or something.

Years ago while moving some furniture I hurt my back and fell to the floor in pain.

I kept trying to get up but I couldn't.
I just kept falling back on the floor.

Wifey just watched me and laughed and laughed.

And laughed.

This week Wifey got a bad dose of Poison Ivy...

Why Democrats are smart.

Because they had Abraham Lincoln.

Why Democrats are stupid

Massachusetts is probably in the top ten as far as racist states go.

Do we all agree with that?

We do? Good...cuz it's true. You know it. I know it.

So what are the Democrats going to do today? They're probably going to nominate Deval Patrick (a black guy) as their candidate for Governor. The Dems will LOVE nominating a black guy cuz it'll make them feel all mushy and gooey inside....showing how liberal and caring they are when in fact they know nothing about him. They're gonna nominate him ONLY because he's black. And what will happen when a black guy tries to run for governor in racist Massachusetts?

He'll lose to the Republicans.

And only because he's black.

And that my friends is why the Democrats are stupid. (Though some of their women are kinda hot)

I think the Republicans are gonna run a woman. Probably a white woman. She could probably lose ten pounds.

Muslims ticked at Pope.

Blah Blah Blah. And in the story is the following sentence:

"Islam forbids drinking alcohol and requires non-Muslims to pay a head tax to safeguard their lives if conquered by Muslims. They are exempt if they convert to Islam"

Well guess what? I aint payin' no head tax.

JFK's Sister dies!

Patricia (Patsy) Kennedy (Sister of JFK, RFK, and the fat guy) was found dead at her home. The early reports suggest she died from complications from drinking too much ammonia or something.

Oliver Stone says this finally proves that Oswald did not act alone.

Barack Obama

What is a Barack Obama you ask? A Barack Obama is a senator from Illinois who the Democrats are going to go ga-ga over in 2008.

His middle name is Hussein.

Barack Hussein Obama.

Throw a Bin-Laden on the end of that and every liberal in the country will have a wet dream.

Barack Hussein Obama bin-Laden.

"Yeah...let's vote for him! It'll show how open-minded we all are"

And of course the Republicans will trounce him and his terrorist band of Taliban loving kind.

(I know nothing about Barack Hussein Obama bin-Laden except for what I read in Men's Vogue....he looks good in a two button sport coat and slip on crushed leather Cole Haans)

The Magazine Swap

Since the dawn of Buddy Nights way back in the early 1980s the tradition of the magazine swap formed.

Hoag gives me his magazines....I give him mine.

He usually gives me GQ (it figures), Esquire, Details (it figures), maybe Road and Track, Mens Adventure (it figures), and once in a while some animal related magazine. For the most part pretty good reading.

Over the years I'd give him New York, Stuff, Premiere, Entertainment Weekly, Maxim, National Geographic and so forth. All pretty good stuff.

Last night Hoag gave me something called Male Vogue.

And that will never happen again.

PS
Last night Theresa tried to give me her copy of Newsweek but it gave me the same feeling as eating fried dough while spinning out of control on a Tilt-A-Whirl on a hot humid day.

The Vomit Hall Of Fame

I have three nominees I'd like to submit.

1. I'm not much of drinker and never have been (uh-oh)...well this one night Waldo somehow got me to have a shot of Peppermint Schnapps (uh-oh) and another. And another. And then we went over to Kareens house and I drank a pint(?) or more of the same. Have you ever drank Peppermint Schnapps? It's like 60 proof liquid candy. So anyhow while on the way home and trying to impress the woman I was with I said "Could you please pull over for a second" That 'second' turned into about 20 minutes of me vomiting all over the streets of SmallTown USA. Did I impress that woman? You bet. She married me. (even just a smell of Peppermint Schnapps 26 years later makes me hurl)

2. I decided I'd have a 'special father/daughter day' with my youngest when she was about 6 years old. I took her to this old amusement park (uh-oh) called Whalom Park. Wooded roller coasters, Tilt-a-Whirls (uh-oh), the Octopus (uh-oh), fried dough (uh-oh), numerous hot-dogs (uh-oh), and sweltering humidity (uh-oh)...needless to say I'm feeling a bit queasy and don't really feel like going on any more rides when Youngest points to these lame swings that go around in a slow gentle circle....but they're way up high (uh-oh)...so we get on and the more it goes around the more I know its bye-bye fried dough, see ya later Mr. Oscar Meyer and family. So I signal to the ride operator to STOP THE RIDE! (I think I yelled "STOP THE RIDE") and he did.

I staggered off the ride and told Youngest to follow me to the bathroom.....and then the most massive explosion of vomit ever flew from my mouth...must have gone 10 yards! It put the PRO in Projectile Vomiting. And Youngest just started laughing and laughing at me. She still laughs at me. Vomit is always funny.

3. Though not as good as the above, me and Waldo were once at Rocky Point Park in Rhode Island trying to impress two girls with our skills at riding carnival rides....after what seemed like an hour of being spun and hurled through space we got off and both ran to the mens room to...you know....wash our hands and comb our hair. Did we impress the girls? I sure did. I married one of them.

Moral of the story?

Chicks no matter how old just love vomit. Or me vomiting. Or maybe just my wife and daughter love vomit.

Do you have any vomit stories worthy of the Hall of Fame?

I love being married to the insane.

So I'm getting ready to go to bed last night when this conversation happens:

CrazyInsaneWife: "You know...you look like Walter Matthau"

ME: "WHAT????"

CrazyInsaneWife: "I didn't mean that in a bad way"

The conversation pretty much ended there because I realized I was talking to a totally insane non-rational person. There is no way to tell a man he looks like Walter Matthau in a 'good way'.

It's like me telling the ugliest woman on earth "You know Whoopi...you kinda look like Hillary Clinton"

WHOOPI: "What????!!!!!"

Moral of the story:

Never tell a man he looks like Walter Matthau and never tell a woman she looks like Hillary Clinton. Not even in a good way. There is no good way.

PS:
I look nothing like Walter Matthau. Or Hillary Clinton.

PSS:
Or Whoopi Goldberg

These people put the Phun in Phunerals

There's nothing like a good funeral to put you in a good mood. Even a bad funeral can have great moments. Here are just a few of mine.

1. It's at my sister's funeral in 1989 when Hoagy's Dad walks up to me, gives me a firm dry handshake, and says..."Congratulations!" (And you thought YOU didn't know what to say to folks at a funeral)

2. Bemisdown's Mom (Bemisdown formerly known as the artist...Momenger) died years ago and Bemisdown showed up wearing this painted on forming fitting RED dress showing off every delightful curve of her curvy little body. All the guys in the room couldn't wait for more of her family to die off.

3. Cousin Saul and Fairilyn's son Atom died when he was around 20 years old. Nothing is worse than when a child dies (actually I'm sure there is something, but I digress)...anyhow when someone that young dies you need a big place to hold the services...a traditional Funeral Home just can't handle the crowds. So Saul and Fairilyn used the gym (fieldhouse?) at their daughters school. I'm guessing around 500-600 people showed up at the service. Young people. Lots and lots of teens and 20 somethings. Most of them had those green glow sticks. Singing. Eulogies. Memories. And then something kinda neat happened. Cousin Saul asked if anyone wanted to sign the coffin. They had a large basket filled with colored Sharpies and folks started lining up to sign said coffin. Hundreds of people writing messages on a coffin is just about as cool as it gets...

4. Again at my sister's funeral: When her ex-husband came running in and threw himself on the coffin screaming and sobbing. That was pretty cool.

Any wacky funeral stories in your closet?

Things are always sadder when they are divisible by 5.

Hearing from Howard Stern that the US was under attack and instantly believing him.

Trying to contact my wife and not being able to.

Clinky in New York and getting his 'man on the street' updates.

Calling Sparkle and persuading her to get home where it was safer.

Hoagy stuck in London. Hoagy stuck in Canada.

Neighbors stuck in Texas.

Getting home and hugging my wife and kids.

American flags everywhere.

CNN. CNN. CNN.


Where were you?

At least it wasn't about Pearl Harbor, Lincoln, or Kennedy

Seems a few people got upset at yesterday's blog.

I never knew Bob Dylan was so popular.

A truly horrific 5th anniversary is almost upon us.

The screams.

I'll never forget the screams of horror that gorgeous September 11th day. How such a terrible thing could be thrust upon the world is beyond me. Sometimes I wake at night thinking of how bad that sucked. One of the worst things ever. Just thinking of it makes me ill...makes me mad.

People woke up that gorgeous 2001 morning and had no idea what they were in for.

September 11, 2001. The day Bob Dylan released his Love and Theft album.

The horror.

The horror.

I'll never forget. I also do my best to keep it from happening again.

God Bless America...except for Bob Dylan.

Not claw...craw!

This has been stuck in my craw for years now. I must vent.

Every year or so Burger King or McDonalds will have a .99 cents Big Mac special or a .99 cents Whopper special and then in small letters will have the disclaimer: PRICES MAY VARY

Dear Douchebags,

Guess what?

If it's a .99 cent special the price CANNOT vary. I hope you die.

I know ,I know...you're professional drivers on a closed course...

Losers.

Katie needs a sign-off

Every network newsperson always has a special 'sign-off.' Remember Dan Rather and his sign-off of "Courage." Sometimes something simple from someone I forget..."Goodnight and have a pleasant tomorrow" Or Mork when he was doing the news..."na-news, na-news" and on and on...

Well, Katie Couric doesn't have a sign-off yet and has asked viewers to send in their ideas.

Last night she ended with "And dats da news, Niggaz!"

Mel Gibson sent in tonight's sign-off "No Jews is good news!"

That Mexican dude from The Treasure of the Sierra Madre sent in the classic "News? News? We don't need no stinking news!"

I can't wait for tomorrow...any ideas?

The I AINT NO OPRAH Quiz

Let's see how close you've been paying attention:

THE I AINT NO OPRAH FIRST ANNUAL QUIZ AND CLAMBAKE

The best Hoagy based blog was:

a) The switchblade comb story
b) The bloody Kotex story
c) Grooving in the handicapped seats story.
d) Donating all his time to the children's burn ward story

The poster who just posts too damn much:
a) Mr. Cake
b) Devil's Cake
c) Cake
d) Ms Cake

The poster who is usually strung out on puppy dope:
a) Momenger
b) Bemisdown
c) Anunomess
d)MotherofGawd
e) all of the above

I AINT NO OPRAH's Favorite subject:
a) Hitler
b) Hoagy
c) Mel Gibson
d) Douchebags
e) retards

My favorite daughter:
a) My oldest
b) My youngest
c) Somebody else's.

Favorite poster from New Zealand:
a) Sparkle Plenty
b) Lois Lane
c) The Gal from New Zealand

Winner of the first deadpool:
a) PwDonz
b) Ann
c) Cousin Saul

Loser of the first deadpool:
a) Steve Irwin

Least likely to attend a Star Trek Convention:
a)Phil Donahue's Niece
b) Steve Irwin

Did Momenger become:
a) StuckWithGiantBreasts
b) BushMakesHerSick
c) Bemisdown

Big word award should go to:
a) Sparkle Plenty
b) Sparkle Plenty
c) Sparkle Plenty
d)MotherofGawd
e) Some other douchebag retard.

John Kerry is a:
a) douchebag
b) retard
c) The junior yet esteemed Senator from Massachusetts.
d) Baby killin' loser.

Who is the King of the Non-sequitur

a) Clinky
b) Aquaman
c) Gazongalicious
d) Paul from Montreal
e) A & D

Who has the sexiest eyes:
a) Lois Lane
b) Cake
c) I aint no Oprah

Who is neither Roger or a Shrubber
a) Roger the Shrubber

Who most needs to do a real daily thought provoking blog:
a) Anunomess
b) Hoagy (his stupid Comb blog just isn't cutting it)

Who needs to post more:
a) T
b) Cousin Saul
c) Paul
d) Frank
e) Steve
f) Forry
g) My wife
h) One of my kids
i) But just my favorite
j) Bruce
k)More Jews
l) More Republicans
m) All you douchebag retarded lurkers.

Part Two will be a surprise quiz coming soon.

Let's see what's happening in Katie's neck of the woods...

Well, today is the big day for Katie Couric and the start of her historic reign on the CBS Evening News. Walter Cronkite and Dan Rather sat in that chair along with that old dude the last couple months. Now it's Katherine's turn.

Here is how Katie will ready herself for the big night and what she'll do in the coming years.

a) She will go cold turkey on the perky pills.

b) She will mainline dour dope into her veins.

c) She will pray for an assassination or natural disaster.

d) She will somehow figure out how to show off her legs (she has great legs!)...maybe walking to her anchor desk...maybe in one of those walking interviews. She'll figure it out.

e) She will practice how to put on and take off her glasses for dramatic effect.

f) She'll toss in a y'all or two. She likes to say y'all.

g) She will practice her giggle for end of news feel good story.

h) She will come up with a tagline...but not this first week. It will have the word America in it.

i) She will utter the phrase "In the proud tradition of Walter Cronkite and Dan Rather" (and I will spit up my milk)

j) Nothing for the letter J

k) She will appear on Letterman often (to show off her legs in a more informal setting)

l) She'll ask the tough questions ( "What's the best way to store blankets in the summer?" and "Is it best to exercise before or after a meal?")

m) She will say stingray and then mention how "terribly sad this is...those poor children" (I will spit milk out when she does so.)

n) She will make America feel good again. For maybe two weeks.

o) She will do a network 'special' on Hillary Clinton (she will make sure both of their legs are showing....making hers look WAY better in comparison)

p) Next Monday she'll remember 9/11 and how it changed ALL of our lives.

And she'll do a bunch of other goofy stuff that'll drive us all nuts.

A swift and strong response

George W. Bush has sworn to apply a swift and strong response to North Korea (or Iran) for the untimely death of Steve 'Crocodile Hunter'Irwin.

Bush also stated that America will not bow down from the killing of any of our reptile hunters. America will not be held hostage to this kind of terrorist activity.

From now to eternity this day will be known as 9/4.

Godspeed Croc Hunter!

Hurricane Katrina: About a year later.

With this being roughly the first anniversary of Hurricane Katrina (or 8/29 as it more commonly known as) I thought it time to reveal a few things that me and the Bush Administration know.

The levee in New Orleans was sabotaged by either the North Koreans or maybe the Iranians just before the twister hit. The aftermath resulted in the death of dozens of people, hundreds of dogs, a few cats, and damages in the thousands and thousands of dollars.

Justice will be served ::winkwink::.

Don't Stop Thinkin' About Tomorrow

There is a good chance that Hillary Clinton will be the next Democratic candidate for the Presidency (because of the Left Wing Conspiracy) and us Republicans are salivating at the thought. Two things can happen....she'll get trounced by the Republicans, or even better....she'll win and then we can make fun of her for 4 years.

If she wins we can look forward to:

1. The first set of cankles (thats where the ankle and calf are hard to distinguish from one another) in the White House since Taft.

2. Bill Clinton as First ::snicker:: Lady

3. The new china pattern picked out by Bill for The White House dining room.

4. Bill Clinton's first White House tea....maybe some of those little watercress finger sandwiches would be nice.

5. Hillary's official portrait hanging in the 'ugly wing' next to the Abe Lincoln and Jimmy Carter ones.

6. Hillary getting caught with her lesbian intern in the Oval Office.

7. Bill getting caught with Hillary's lesbian intern in the Oval Office.

8. Bill giving a tour of the White House at Christmas time to Katie Couric...showing off all the hand made ornaments and crap...saying things like "Isn't this snowman just adorable"

9. Hillary freakin' out when the ghost of Vince Foster pays her a nighttime visit.

10. Land scandals.

I'm tingly just thinkin about it! Win or lose I win.

Our friend...the sugar frosted flake.

In my lifetime I've met dozens of people and not one of them dislikes Kellogg's Sugar Frosted Flakes. And why would they dislike them? They're made of sugar, frost, and flakes. That my friends is a trifecta of perfection. No other food is as universally loved as the flake with the sugar and the frost. They're not just g-g-g-reat! They're a-a-a-a-awesome!

You put sugar and frost on just about anything and it instantly becomes better. You put sugar and frost on a flake and you have Sugar Frosted Flakes. And joy.

Show me a person that doesn't like Sugar Frosted Flakes and I'll show you John Kerry.

Show me a person that doesn't like Sugar Frosted Flakes and I'll show you a douchebag.

Show me a person that doesn't like Sugar Frosted Flakes and I'll show you retard.

Show me a person that doesn't like Sugar Frosted Flakes and I'll show you stupid.

Show me a person that doesn't like Sugar Frosted Flakes and I'll show you a Special K loving broad with a Thighroid problem.

Show me a person that doesn't like Sugar Frosted Flakes and I'll show you....you know...something.

Show me a person that doesn't like Sugar Frosted Flakes and I'll show you someone I just don't want to know.

(Brownies are pretty g-g-g-reat! also.)

Reason #237 why I hate Barbra Steisand's filthy guts

Barbra explaining why she's going back out on tour:

"The increasingly urgent need for private citizen support to combat dangerous climate change, along with education and health issues was the prime reason I decided to tour again," she said. "This will allow me to direct funds and awareness to causes that I care deeply about."

Bite me you pompous asshole.

The proper way to eat proper foods.

Everyone knows that when eating an Oreo cookie that you break apart both cookies, eat stuffing, and then finish off cookies.

Let's discuss the proper way of eating other foods...shall we?

1. The Ice Cream Sandwich or better known as 'The friend of millions': Carefully unwrap said sandwich. Discard wrapper. In a clockwise fashion run your tongue at least one lap around entire edge tasting the ice cream. After said sandwich is tidy...wolf down. Lick fingers of remains of the chocolate wafer stuff.

2. Pizza: Must be in triangular shape (square slices are for losers) Hold pointed part with tips of all four fingers and thumb and then eat from narrowest to widest. Save crust until last.

3. Hot Dog: Must only be eaten from one end. No exceptions. Hot Dog CANNOT be longer than bun.

4. Taco: Cock head to the left, eat left to right. Pick up scraps with fingers and eat.

5. Steak: Only cut the piece you're about to eat. And always start at the narrowest part of said steak. Only losers cut up the steak into bite size pieces first.

6. McDonalds Apple Pie: eat however you want...just end the dining with a smile of satisfaction.

7. BBQ Back Ribs: One rib at time, fingers licked after each rib, wipe fingers on Hoagy afterwards...back or shoulders only.

8. KFC chicken: Large part of drumstick MUST be on the left side, strip said drumstick of its skin, eat skin, twirl from the right as needed to finish off the skinless chicken. Wipe hands on Hoagy...back or shoulders only.

9. Spaghetti: Twirl spaghetti on fork, shove in mouth making sure dangling spaghetti leaves a satisfying sauce stain on chin....wipe with back of hand. Wipe on Hoagy...back or shoulders only.

So many more...so little time.

Tragic Plane Crash In Kentucky

And this was in the story about it:



"The burned bodies of the 49 victims were removed from the plane on Sunday and taken to the state Medical Examiner's Office in Frankfort for autopsies to determine the cause of death. Fayette County Coroner Gary Ginn said Sunday that they likely died in the fire."


Being a coroner aint really all that hard, is it?

1st Annual Blog about the magic that is the Emmy Awards

The Emmy Awards always end with more questions than answers...or something.

1. So Stephen Colbert loses to Barry Manilow. Why are they even in the same category? One does fake news while the other does fake music. Stupid.

2. Were you as relieved as I was that Bob Newhart didn't ended up dying?

3. Were you as touched and saddened as I was when they wheeled out Dick Clark's retarded grandfather?

4. Weren't you POSITIVE that Farrah Fawcett was gonna embarrass herself?

5. Did you even know Seinfeld was still on the air? And were you surprised to see Elaine win the Emmy?

6. Hollywood really shined last night, huh?

7. Were you surprised by Mel Gibson's comment about how happy he was that a nice Catholic boy like Conan O'Brien was hosting the show instead of a filthy Jew like Jon Stewart?

8. Were you surprised that there wasn't even a single mention of Katie Couric taking over the Nightly News and the excitement that is sweeping over America?

9. Who the hell is Emmy?