Saturday, October 22, 2005

Friday, October 21, 2005


If you can’t say it with flowers, say it with profanity. Plenty of fun words here…even add your own. Cussing is cool!


I realized shortly after paying four dollars for a Pumpkin Spice Latte at Starbucks this morning that I had just paid four dollars for a Pumpkin Spice Latte.

Was I so comfortable with my finances that I was okay with paying 4 fucking dollars for a cup of milk? It just didn’t seem right.

So I did some fuzzy math and estimated I was paying somewhere in the neighborhood of $30 a gallon for coffee! That sure put the price of gas in perspective. How was it that I came to value coffee more than gasoline? I suppose it’s because of the pleasure I derive from a tall cup of coffee - the way it winds me up like a category 5. Gasoline, on the other hand, doesn’t really make me FEEL anything – it’s just something I have to buy to get to work every day. There’s no immediate pleasure in gasoline consumption. Even when I consider the luxury of personal transportation, the levels of gratification are virtually incomparable. One is an experience I enjoy incrementally over time, the other is an immediate fix I enjoy almost all at once.

Still, this deeper understanding of the relative cost of things didn’t make me feel any better about paying $4 for a cup of leaded milk. Was I insane to pay that much? I decided to do a little research into what people pay for other liquids. You might be surprised at what a gallon of some other popular consumer items goes for these days…

Chanel No. 5 Perfume: $45,056 per gallon
Visine Advanced Eye Drops: $741.12 per gallon
Vicks 44D Cough Syrup: $96.67 per gallon
Coppertone SPF 45 sun-block lotion: $90.11 per gallon
Pepto-Bismol: $58.52 per gallon
Evian bottled water: $21.19 per gallon
Corona beer: $12.89 per gallon
Snapple: $10.32 per gallon
Tide liquid detergent: $8.39 per gallon
Coca-Cola: $2.64 per gallon
Tap water: .00186 cent for 11,000 gallons

So, depending on where you live, gasoline is roughly the same price per gallon as Coke. And heaven forbid you should ever develop an affinty for Pepto-Bismol shooters - that'd be an expensive habit to break!

Just a little liquid for thought...


Taking a page out of North Korea’s Handbook on destroying relationships with the world’s most powerful nations, Venezuela’s president Hugo Chavez publicly accused the U.S. this week in a BBC interview of planning to invade his country. He pointed to a 2002 failed coup attempt as evidence of a U.S.-assisted overthrow and suggested the oil-hungry Americans would relish taking over his country.

“A coup happened in Venezuela that was prepared by the US. What do they want? Our oil, as they did in Iraq….We have detected with intelligence reports plans of a supposed invasion, one that would never happen. But we have to denounce it,” Mr Chavez said.

The White House official response was brief: “As if.”

According to one source at the Pentagon, an invasion of Venezuela is not likely.

“Mr. Chavez should not flatter himself – the Venezuelans aren’t even in our top 10. They’re like number 17 on the list of proposed invasions. And they’d be lucky if we did. In fact, that may be the motivation behind these accusations…to get under our skin for a more prominent place on our list. But we’re onto Mr. Chavez and we will NOT be baited into invading his piece of crap country.”

Venezuela is the fifth largest oil producer, sending a million and a half barrels of oil to the U.S. every day.


When someone tells you to smell something, it's never good.

I think I'll pass.

Thursday, October 20, 2005


This is a photograph of Hurricane Wilma as it approaches Cancun, Mexico. Holy shit is right. This storm looks like more trouble than Michael Jackson headed for Chuck E. Cheese.


I’ve been catching a lot of flack from friends who don’t think it’s natural for a Cubs fan to be rooting for the White Sox to win the World Series. My reaction thusfar has been to respond with a big, “Fuck off, I can root for whoever I want.” But today I decided to think rationally about it. Does rooting for the White Sox somehow make me less of a Cubs fan?

After four seconds of deep consideration I came to the conclusion that of course it didn’t.

Sure, the two teams are city rivals…but they play in different leagues. And when they do play against each other I always root for the Cubs. Indeed, were the Cubs playing against them in the World Series, there’s no way in hell I’d be fired up about the Sox. Of course, were the Cubs actually in the World Series, nothing in hell would be fired up, as hell would be a massive sheet of ice. But that’s not the point.

The point is that it is perfectly acceptable to pledge support for a rival team if YOUR team is comprised of a bunch of lame, underachieving nurses who’ll never get to the big show themselves. I mean, shit, what’s the point to watching sports if you’re not invested in the outcome one way or the other?

I suppose I could throw my support to the Cubs’ division rival Astros, but that wouldn’t make me a better Cubs fan, either. That would just make me a Sox-hater, which some Cubs fans think is central to being a Cubs fan. I love that argument: “Sox fans wouldn’t root for the Cubs if WE made it to the World Series, so why are you going to root for the Sox?” That’s simple: Because I’m not a bitter, mean-spirited Sox fan, frothing with vitriolic hatred. I’m a happy-go-lucky Cubs fan who doesn’t have to see the Sox implode to get a good night’s sleep. But some folks just don’t see it that way. Less power to them.

I suppose another tactic would be to boycott the World Series because my team isn’t in it. But the World Series is a prime excuse to get piss drunk with friends. How can I possibly boycott the World Series? I’ve never boycotted the World Series and I don’t intend to start now. No – my liver’s not getting off that easily. That’s what sore losers do – they pout and whine and quit when their team is out of it. I don’t pout and whine and quit. I acknowledge my team sucks, as I do every year, and then give the nod to one of the finalists. One of the finalists this year just happens to be bringing a lot of excitement (and revenue) to my fine town. I’m rather enjoying it.

So go Sox. Show Chicago how it’s done. Take some of the weight off of our City of Big Shoulders. Give Cubs fans another reason to hate you next year when the rivalry resumes. Kick some Astro ass. (Except when Clemens is pitching…everybody loves the Rocket, baby!) For the next week, there’s no rivalry here – just the respect a good, hard-working team deserves.

And if you don't agree, fuck off - I can root for whoever I want, beotch!

Wednesday, October 19, 2005


I just pulled out the longest nose hair of all time. I’m thinking it may have been attached to the back of my eyeball as my left eye is now tearing up uncontrollably.

It all started as an innocent nose pick. I had a little itch I tried to scratch by curling up the knuckle of my forefinger and rubbing it against the side of my nose. When that didn’t work, I brushed the outside of my nostril over the back of my hand a few times. When the itch persisted, I decided I was going to have to go in with the finger. Fortunately, things were pretty dry as I fished around for the source of my discomfort. Unfortunately, when I finally found it, it was clinging tightly to a long, thick hair. So I started twisting and pulling it, hoping the offending goober would break free. But it would not. It was a stubborn little bastard. So I started to yank and pull, inserting the tips of both my forefinger and thumb for better leverage. I focused my chi and with one swift stroke pulled down firmly. That’s when I felt the sky open up and a cold breeze rush over me.

I blacked out for a moment, then glanced down to see what had to have been the single longest hair ever extracted from a human proboscis. I am not exaggerating when I tell you I could have used it to floss my teeth. For your appetite's sake I will assure you I did not. Was it painful? Yeah – it hurt like hell. But there was no blood, which was good. There did appear to be some gray matter on the very end, however, which I am guessing originated somewhere in the neighborhood of the frontal cortex. But I’ll leave that determination to William Petersen.

Anyhow, the itch is gone now and my vision has returned enough for me to type this up for you. Just wanted to keep you in the loop…


Here’s a little something I stumbled upon online today.

This is Camille Cabral. Camille is a French prostitute. Here she is posing with a European Union flag at a conference organized by the International Committee on the Rights of Sex Workers in Europe. Yes, you read that right – the rights of sex workers in Europe. It is the Committee’s goal to end the criminalization of the sex industry so that hard working folks like Camille get the same social rights as other workers. What Camille isn’t considering is that with rights come regulations – and a girl this butt ugly would never be allowed to work in the sex business.

Only on the black market would someone part with hard-earned money to have any sort of physical contact with Camille. No...she's definitely got the face for phone sex.

Tuesday, October 18, 2005


Looking for some sweet fall fashions? This guy's selling a hot pair of leather pants you might be interested in...

(Open the Q&A if you've got a minute, as a lot of people are asking about his pants)

Monday, October 17, 2005


If you build it, they will come.

And we did. Richardson's Farm is home to the world's largest corn maze. I didn't realize how popular these things have become in recent years. Farmers are letting people into their corn crops and reaping the benefits. There was a 50 foot slide for the kids, a petting zoo, pumpkins for sale, and some of the most structurally sound port-o-potties I've ever hung out in, so to speak. It's simply amazing how these things are created - with just a few cases of Coors and some garden shears. Actually, it may be a little more involved than that.

So what's the point to all of this cornograffiti? To have fun and make money, of course. We had the fun, they made the money. They hand everyone maps at the beginning and the idea is to travel deep into the labyrinth in search of posted landmarks. At each post there is a hole puncher that you use to notch your map with a different shape indicating you found that post. Two hours later you emerge victorious and turn in your map to receive a token gift. It's the perfect way to spend a Sunday with family - especially kids.

One twist I would have liked to have seen - a HAUNTED corn maze. No maps - just flashlights handed out to a few bold adventurers on a chilly autumn night. Imagine wandering around in the thick of a cornfield surrounded by eerie noises, growling dogs, panting, footsteps, chainsaws, etc. And as you find yourself at a dead end in the middle of the maze your flashlight buzzes over a rotting corpse, severed in several places by the blade of a rusty sickle. Yeah - that's what I'M talking about. The scariest damn haunted "house" experience of all time. You'd hear people screaming around every corner - and you'd be completely lost! Almost makes me wish I had my own corn maze to dress up for Halloween.

There are corn mazes all over the place. To find out if there's one near you, Google it and plan a corny outing of your own.