Friday, December 02, 2005


It’s been a busy week, my friends. Glad it's almost over.

The first face transplant was performed this week, and surprisingly, Joan Rivers was not involved. I would have thought she'd have been higher on the list.

Blackberry users found out they may no longer be getting e-mail service on their personal hand-held communications pieces – electronic devices so addictive they’re often called Crackberries. If you need access to e-mail every minute of every day, you’re either doing something illegal or you need intense therapy. In my case, it’s therapy – possibly because I don’t have a crackberry. I love e-mail. Really. When's the last time YOU sent me one, you bastard?

Oprah showed up on Letterman last night. Yeah – I got sucked into watching that crap, too. Kind of anticlimactic, no? After all the fuss about this supposed “feud” between the two, they could have at least arm-wrestled or something. Or sumo wrestled in a vat of I Can't Believe It's Not Butter.

Russia is selling missiles to Iran, but most Americans are too troubled by the Nick and Jessica break-up to concern themselves with such trivial matters.

President Bush laid out his roadmap to victory in Iraq in a speech entitled “Déjà Vu” because most of us remember him declaring victory a year and a half ago. Maybe someone should help him with his "roadmap" so he doesn't keep taking us in circles.

I tweaked a nerve in my back this week and ended up at the chiropractor, where I practically had to sign a two-year contract for treatment before the bastard would “adjust” me. What’s all this “wellness” crap – just punch me in the spine already and send me home. I'm not looking for a partner in health here - I just want the fucking pain to stop. But job security is a powerful incentive, so I forgive him...even if I don't plan on going back.

Jennifer Garner had her baby, but had a hard time naming it since she herself goes by an alias.

And then someone got into my secret condom stash and stole my last “Big Red.” It turned up this morning on the Obelisk in Buenos Aires. I wonder if they plan on giving it back when they’re done making their point so that I can use it the next time I make mine.

Alright folks - have a great weekend. Be good or good at it.

Thursday, December 01, 2005


Perhaps you’ve heard of the recent uproar over Intelligent Design. It’s the latest development in the war between the right and the left over what we should teach our children in school.

On the one side you’ve got the hard core fundamentalist Christian right who believe evolution is bunk and espouse a strict curriculum of Creationism. Then you’ve got the whole liberal, scientific, atheist crowd invoking Darwin’s ghost in promoting an evolutionary agenda. It’s an ideological tug of war with compromise seemingly impossible.

Enter the Intelligent Design folks. These enterprising minds have essentially merged the two disparate beliefs in building an ambitious theory that effectively satisfies neither side.

The theory behind Intelligent Design is really only attractive to people (like me) who’d just like to see everyone get along for a change. It suggests that the science of evolution is a consequence of divine intention. In other words, there is something (God, perhaps) behind the science of our existence. "Yes, we came from apes - but God made it so!"

The bible and science give us very different reasons for being. Intelligent Design attempts to reconcile the two, claiming to provide an objective perspective on the question of our existence. Where the bible says God created everything in under a week, including human beings in His own image, and science says we evolved over millions of years from apes, Intelligent Design leaves room for the possibility that evolution was God’s way of getting us here. Not surprisingly, both scientists and bible huggers reject this notion out of hand.

What is the true origin of our species? Are we truly the result of divine inspiration? Are we a complex evolutionary accident? Or are “we” merely an illusion in one of Doug Henning's masterful performances? Perhaps “we” are, in fact, one…and these words are not mine, but OURS. You read them as though they are external to you, when they actually live inside of you. I live inside of you. We are each other. Did we forget our medication this morning?

I'm not going to tell you what to believe - that's up to you. All I really wanted to say today was that we shouldn’t rule out the very real possibility that a flying spaghetti monster is responsible for this mess we call life. Hey, it’s just a theory.

Wednesday, November 30, 2005


Yahoo! Avatars

If I weren't such a hairy monkey, I might look something like this. Jude Law, eat your heart out.

Make your own avatar and dress it up at Yahoo!


Apparently the captain of this rig had a bad day.


As you know, Chuck Norris is a living legend. A friend of mine recently sent me a list of little-known facts about Chuck Norris and I wanted to share it with you. Thanks to Heavy D for passing these along - they are good conversation starters. I won't take credit for penning these wildly amusing bits...only for spreading the gospel of Chuck.

So without further ado, here's all you need to know about Chuck Norris:

Chuck Norris' tears cure cancer. Too bad he has never cried.

Chuck Norris does not sleep. He waits.

Chuck Norris sold his soul to the devil for his rugged good looks and unparalleled martial arts ability. Shortly after the transaction was finalized, Chuck roundhouse kicked the devil in the face and took his soul back. The devil, who appreciates irony, couldn't stay mad and admitted he should have seen it coming. They now play poker every second Wednesday of the month.

Chuck Norris is currently suing NBC, claiming Law and Order are trademarked names for his left and right legs.

Chuck Norris once ate three 72 oz. steaks in one hour. He spent the first 45 minutes having sex with his waitress.

Chuck Norris built a time machine and went back in time to stop the JFK assassination. As Oswald shot, Chuck met all three bullets with his beard, deflecting them. JFK's head exploded out of sheer amazement.

The chief export of Chuck Norris is pain.

Aliens do exist. They're just waiting for Chuck Norris to die before they attack.

If you can see Chuck Norris, he can see you. If you can't see Chuck Norris you may be only seconds away from death.

Chuck Norris was the fourth Wiseman. He brought baby Jesus the gift of "beard". Jesus wore it proudly to his dying day. The other Wisemen, jealous of Jesus' obvious gift favoritism, used their combined influence to have Chuck omitted from the Bible. Shortly after all three died of roundhouse kick related deaths.

Chuck Norris doesn't read books. He stares them down until he gets the information he wants.

Chuck Norris is not hung like a horse... horses are hung like Chuck Norris

Chuck Norris can make a woman climax by simply pointing at her and saying "booya".

Chuck Norris can piss into gale force winds.

Chuck Norris used to be an All-American baseball player in college. He was banned however from Major League Baseball when it became known that his blood is actually a steroid.

One of the greatest cover-ups of the last century was the fact that Hitler did not commit suicide in his bunker, but was in fact tea-bagged to death by Chuck Norris.

Chuck Norris once tried to sue Burger King after they refused to put razor wire in his Whopper Jr., insisting that that actually is "his" way.

Here's America's biggest assbeater posing with America's biggest asseater, Alan "May I toss your salad again, Mr. Hannity?" Colmes.

Tuesday, November 29, 2005


I recently saw a t-shirt that read, simply, “Boys are dumb." I think the shirt is supposed to be a joke, but there IS some truth to it. The fact is, we ARE dumb – most of us unapologetically so, especially when it comes to girls. But I'm lucky. I have Geri to help me understand things. I seem to learn something new and important about women and relationships every single day.

Geri explained to me just the other day, for instance, that a man should never use the word "big" to describe any part of the female anatomy - other than her "boobs," of course. That was an important one to remember, she assured me, and I have not erred in that vein since.

What else have I learned? Lots of stuff!

Visible nose hairs are bad.

While they may LOOK the same, white, stone, and cream are very different colors and telling them apart is helpful when buying clothes or getting dressed.

Buttoning your shirt’s top button isn’t cool. In fact, even the second button is considered a little conservative these days, unless you’re not wearing a t-shirt and have a chest like a Sasquatch.

If you DO wear an undershirt, the cut of its collar should not match the cut of your top. In other words, a v-neck t-shirt with a v-neck sweater is a v-no-no.

Don’t pick at your pimples.

When faced with the dilemma of where to eat, the boy should just pick a restaurant.

It doesn't matter what you THINK you smell, a girl fart does not stink.

Flowers may die, but they never get old…so keep bringing ‘em.

Coffee is not considered a complete breakfast.

Not only is it okay for boys to iron their own clothes, it is encouraged.

Old socks and underwear should be thrown away, even if they only have a couple holes in them.

When girls get dressed to go out, it's for other girls, not boys.

Cornstarch spray is for your clothes and PAM is for cooking, not the other way around.

The elevator isn’t the only place you should let ladies get off first.


"Ever since Oprah Winfrey revealed on her 20th anniversary program Monday that I was the person who first suggested she go into syndication, I have been flooded with requests for interviews. Yes, it is true, I persuaded Oprah to become the most successful and famous woman in the world. I was also the person who suggested that Jerry Springer NOT go into syndication, for which I have received too little credit."

- Roger Ebert


Last Wednesday, Geri and I planned a quiet, low-key evening alone. It was to be a single stress-free night together before what was certain to be a busy Thanksgiving holiday weekend. Comfortably dressed in soft, cotton pajamas, we dialed up $50 worth of specialty maki rolls from Matsuyama and threw in the latest DVD ordered up on – Season One, Disc One of the hit ABC show Lost.

Neither of us was familiar with the show, so we felt like we were walking into a movie without having seen a single trailer. All we knew was that it was wildly popular and a number of people had been recommending we check it out. So instead of trying to dive into the program mid-run, I thought we’d give it a go from the start to see if it was any good. And was it ever.

Warning: This shit is stickier than crack. As soon as the first episode ended, we immediately started part 2. When that ended, we moved right into episode 3. After 3 we looked at each other and agreed to watch “just one more” episode to complete Disc One. But when that one ended we were both left wanting more. So I got on my coat at 11:15 pm and hustled over to Blockbuster to rent Disc Two. We watched the next two episodes before finally succumbing to sleep.

All Thanksgiving Weekend we itched for our next fix, eagerly anticipating our return to town so we could visit the next installment. Indeed, when we returned Sunday night we fired up the last two episodes of Disc Two. Last night I picked up Disc Three and we blazed through all 4 episodes without a single piss break and ignoring all phone calls. We’re so glad we found Lost.

It does help that the DVDs have no commercials, so each episode is only 42 minutes long without interruption. It’s like watching a kick ass movie that never ends – it just keeps getting better and better and better. The folks who put this shit together have got a winning formula here – tell a compelling story in pieces, introduce no small amount of mystery, and build complex characters with unique personalities, flaws, and backgrounds. Beyond the writing, the acting, cinematography, and music are all top-notch. In letter-box format, you forget you’re not watching a feature film. Kudos to the folks who produce this Emmy-award winning masterpiece – it’s no wonder the show won the Emmy for best drama series.

AYNtK recommends you get Lost: If you haven’t been able to get into Lost because you missed the first season, get that shit on your holiday list, stat. It’s dope, ya’ll. You gonna love the way they do it. Shit's so sticky you'll catch up in no time.


Did you hear about the man who got arrested over the weekend for running onto the field in the middle of the Eagles-Packers game? Unlike most of the drunk morons who hop the wall and buzz around in front of the cameras, this guy wasn’t doing it for attention. He was doing it for his mother – his DEAD mother.

As Chris ran a post pattern across the field, he could be seen scattering the dusty contents of a plastic bag – later revealed as the ashen remains of his cremated mother. Satisfied that mom had become a permanent part of Lincoln Financial Field, Chris dropped to his knees, made the sign of the cross, and laid down so security personnel could peacefully escort him from the field of play.

“She never cared for any other team except the Eagles," he later explained to WPVI-TV. “I know that the last handful of ashes I had are laying on the field, and will never be taken away. She'll always be part…of the Eagles." A lot of Philly fans thought the same thing about Terrell Owens.

Sadly, his mom died last January…just prior to the Eagles’ Super Bowl appearance. Chris had reportedly requested that Eagles spread her remains officially, through the team office – but his request was denied. That’s when he took mother’s matter into his own hands and hatched a plan to do it himself.

Chris was charged with defiant trespass, a small price to pay for giving his mother an aerial burial. His only regret? That he had to spend the night in jail with a Packers fan.

(Sidenote to Mom: Don’t get any ideas – I happen to be very allergic to jail.)


Normally I like doing the research myself, but in this case I'm just going to ask the question and risk sounding like a complete retard.

Can someone explain to me the difference between an iPod and an MP3 player? Whether I'm holiday shopping online, leafing through circulars, or browsing in store, everywhere I go I get bombarded with advertisements and promotions for a dozen different iPod models. Not only don't I understand the difference between the various models, I don't even know what an iPod IS. I thought it was just a glorified MP3 player with a color screen and fancy buttons, but the way they're pushing these things on people I'm starting to wonder if I NEED one.

Can someone explain to me the allure of the iPod so I can figure out whether I need to add it to my Christmas list?

Monday, November 28, 2005


This week, Virginia death row inmate Robin Lovitt is scheduled to be the United States' 1,000th execution since the Supreme Court reinstated the death penalty in 1976. Good to know someone somewhere is keeping count. I wonder if he gets anything for being Capital Punishment's ceremonious 1,000th customer. A $1000 shopping spree at "Circuit" City would be nice. Or dinner for two at Sizzler. Or just a fresh pair of cotton Dockers. Give the man a little something for shopping America's criminal justice system and legal discount warehouse.


Everybody obsesses about the Thanksgiving Turkey this time of year – but I’m personally more excited about the Thanksgiving Anaconda. The fact that I am allergic to poultry aside (yes, really), the Thanksgiving Anaconda is a far more satisfying animal to me. Yeah - you know what I'm talking about.

You don't? Come on! You've NEVER heard of the Thanksgiving Anaconda? Of course you have! Thick as a flashlight and up to 96 inches long, the Thanksgiving Anaconda is found coiled up peacefully in your commode a day or two after Thanksgiving.

That serpentine wonder is annually responsible for more relief than the Red Cross. I found mine lurking peacefully in my bowl this morning and still haven’t come down.


Another Thanksgiving holiday *belch* has concluded and I’m 4 pounds heavier. I guess that means I did it right.

We Americans certainly have a lot to be thankful for – but I wonder if we even recognize it anymore. After all, there WAS a time when the Thanksgiving holiday meant a rare opportunity to eat a full meal. Many of today’s homeless are better fed than yesterday’s working class. They’re sure fatter, anyhow. That’s not to make light of their circumstances – only to recognize that food is easier to come by now than ever before in our history. And that’s a good thing. It means we can recognize and be thankful for more than just a full belly.

Celebrated on the 4th Thursday of November, Thanksgiving is an American tradition that can be traced back as early as 1541 – but it’s not the first the celebration of its kind. On the contrary, harvest festivals have been going on for millennia. In keeping with custom, our private party marks just another bunch of hardworking folks giving thanks and paying tribute to the Gods for another year of divine sustenance.

The original “Thanksgiving” feast, or at least the one our schoolchildren read about, is the 1621 feast at Plymouth Rock where the puritan pilgrims broke bread with the Wampanoag Indians, who more or less ensured the wayward Anglo settlers didn't starve to death. Because no good deed goes unpunished, it wasn’t long before the grateful European guests paid back their native hosts by driving them like bison to the brink of extinction. But that has proven the way of the world, time and again, throughout history: One people prospering at the expense of another.

(Editor's Note: For historical accuracy, whoever arranged this photo opportunity probably should have considered swapping outfits!)

Today, Thanksgiving has become a food carnival commemorating America’s expanding waistline. To alien observers, we undoubtedly look like a collection of wasteful, overweight carnivores intentionally getting sick by eating too much. Gluttony without apology, excused by the custom of giving thanks. We sure are a lucky bunch to have a 4-day holiday devoted to the vigorous consumption of food (and, recently, consumer goods). Don’t you think?

What I would like to see is a reversal of tradition. A Thanksgiving holiday where Americans voluntarily fast for a couple days to show appreciation for the bounty we enjoy the REST of the year. Not a religious rite, but a cultural observation during which we exercise a little humility for a change. But humility doesn’t taste as good as deep-fried turkey, sage dressing, and candied sweet potato casserole…so I’m no going to hold my breath for that one.

Besides, for how egregious our Thanksgiving gluttony has become, a part of me thinks we deserve it. We ARE considered the hardest working folks on the planet – literally killing ourselves to get ahead. Long commutes. Longer work weeks. Two-income households. Overtime. Unused vacation days. It’s good that we’re forced to get together every once in a while to remember why it is we’re working so hard in the first place: so we can enjoy those few times when we’re NOT working.

Speaking of not working, I probably ought to get back at it...