Friday, January 20, 2006


At 7:45 a.m. Eastern Time the incredible happened. I don't know why I am giving you Eastern Time when I live in the Midwest, but bear with me. It's been a long day.

Were the mysteries surrounding the universe to thank for this anomalous occurrence, or had Mother Nature simply hiccupped? I really cannot say. Have I been witness to the next stage in human evolution and development? Again, I cannot say. All I know for certain is that this morning’s freakish incident was the strangest thing to have ever happened to me in all the years I’ve been alive.

I need a moment to think about this.

Our government is constantly working on top-secret projects involving stealth technologies. Folks at the Pentagon have spent billions developing an array of highly destructive weapons possessing signatures so small no radar can detect them – yet these munitions, and the remarkably swift vehicles designed to deliver them, remain hopelessly visible to the naked eye. Are there any among us who can testify to having witnessed firsthand a sparrow carve up the firmament at mach 2? I would presume not.

Today, by the Gods, I perfected a technology.

At 7:45 a.m. Eastern Time, from the comfort of my bathroom, I unwittingly perfected the physics of stealth technology. My prototype possessed no signature. Long into existence, it’s physical composition and location remained unknown. Here is what I remember.

Having completed a satisfying strain over my commode, I readied a wad of Charmin to mark the event’s conclusion. As I reached back and looked down, I made a startling discovery. The bowl was empty. I immediately stood up, turned around and inspected the porcelain depository. I studied it from every angle, but saw only my ghost in its reflection. There was nothing there – nothing at all. Yes – I had produced the world’s first documented case of invisible poo.

Now, for background, you should know that I've produced a varied collection of colonic products over my many years, but never anything like this. It was as though I had conducted my own private Philadelphia Experiment in the laboratory of my tiny, one-bedroom apartment. Doug Henning would have been proud.

In retrospect, I’m hoping this was not just a one shot deal. I've since taken care to catalogue every edible consumed in the hours leading up to that fateful event in an attempt to reproduce the transparent stool. If there is a formula, it must be documented for science. The implications of a discovery like this on the hope and future of mankind are monumental.

I understand there will be dissenters among you. Proof of an invisible turd is not easy to come by – I couldn't very well ask a neighbor to fish around in my toilet for independent verification of the discovery. At least not while I wasn’t willing to do perform that “doo” diligence myself.

Suffice it to say, I know what I accomplished. And should I be fortunate enough to manage an equally untraceable movement again, you can bet I will be bringing this remarkable advance in the development of stealth technology to the attention of the greater science community.

A molecular physicist I am not, but I believe reconstructing this momentous singularity is a de-stinked possibility. And now, if you will excuse me, I must get back to the throne for more research.

Thursday, January 19, 2006


Guess who’s back on the radar?

No, not HIM. Guess again.

No, seriously. Guess again.

Okay, I can see this is going to take awhile. I'll just tell you. That slippery bastard Osama Bin Awfullyquiet! Yeah, really. I was just starting to miss that guy, too.

Apparently the Al-Jizonya network was delivered an audio tape with the voice of O…O Sa-ma.

O…O Sa-ma.

Sorry, just busted into a little Ready For the World there. I couldn’t help it. You know how it is. Anyhow, according to the Chief of Turban Warfare, more death and destruction are in the works…UNLESS…and that’s a BIG unless (which is why I capped it)…UNLESS we take him up on his truce offer. Yes, Osama is offering the United States of Infidelia a truce. The details of the truce are a little bizarre, but no one’s ever accused that Brokeback Fugitive of being conventional. According to the tape, El Terrorino is offering peace with all Muslims in exchange for a pimped out Volkswagen bus, ten crisp two-dollar bills, a garlic-flavored Slurpee named “Hawk” after Bruce Willis’ least memorable role, a carton of Virginia Slims Ultra Lights, and a foot rub from G-Dub himself.

Bush has not officially responded to the truce offer, but insiders say a counter offer is not likely to include the foot rub. Most are guessing it will, on the other hand, include a long hearty chuckle and a big fuck you.


Does anyone else have difficulty urinating naked or is it just me?

Nevermind then. Forget I mentioned it.

Wednesday, January 18, 2006


Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to drive a cab for a living. I imagine a life in traffic, surrounded by people who don’t know where the hell they’re going and driving like they don’t care if they ever get there. I’d spend hours daydreaming of all the things I could do with the time saved not showering.

Yeah – driving a cab would be sweet.

I’d probably want to get a dog to cruise around the city with me, which would mean the front seat would be off-limits for passengers, costing me a fare here and there…but the company of a wind-loving buddy riding shotgun sure would be worth it. Plus, then I could blame the godawful stench in my ride on a canine co-pilot with an unhealthy appetite for unrefrigerated leftovers. Cool. I think the best part, though, would be never having to stop to use the restroom.

Yeah – driving a cab would be the life. Make my own hours. Drive my own route. Take my own sweet time.

Growing up in the city, I think I learned everything I know about driving from cab drivers. I was often in awe watching them slice through traffic, bullying their way through intersections, and actively ignoring the majority of traffic laws. I’ve been working on a number of their moves, but have only perfected one of them – my favorite – the “Fucking Jackass.” It’s a brilliant cut-off maneuver predicated on the understanding that if the front bumper of your car strikes any part of another vehicle, the contact would appear to have been initiated by your failure to yield. It is with this in mind that a cab driver can skillfully jockey for position, darting in from any angle, daringly wedging the front of their cab into the two feet of space between your vehicle and the one in front of you. Once their vehicle is technically in FRONT of yours, you are forced to either brake or make contact.

The move is impossible to counter. You can blow your horn all you want…even speed up to close the distance – but once that cab's bumper is an inch ahead of yours, the game is over. All you can do at that point is declare your frustration with a hand gesture and windshield-muted insult: “Fucking jackass!”

For your amusement, here’s link for anyone who’s ever wanted to be cab driver. Take this poor chap for a spin.

Big fun!


Dr. Faber sent me a lead this week, hoping I’d be willing to take on the bull-headed Bill O’Reilly head-to-head. The topic? My choice, actually.

Earlier this week, the popular Fox News Channel talk show blowhard challenged his viewers to debate with him on his nightly program. Scheduled to air February 7, 8, 14, 15, 21, and 22, six winners will have the opportunity to spar with the Big O on the topic of their choice.

Cowboy Bill is not afraid.

“You want a piece of me?” he asked on his show this week. “Would you like to sit on this set right here and let me have it? Of course you would. Now, now that can happen.” The pompous egomaniac went on to warn viewers to be careful what they wish for.

Sorry, Dr. Faber – there are some people you just can’t argue with and O’Reilled Up is one of them. I wouldn’t stand a chance under the heat of all those lights. He's polished and he's got technique. He knows how to berate and belittle his guests, overbearing them with loaded questions while painting his "no spin zone" full of hyperbolic modifiers and descriptors from "ludicrous" to "outrageous" to "insane" to "completely ridiculous." And the irony of the "no spin zone," of course, is that labeling it a "no spin zone" is actually SPINNING the program as a beacon of objectivity in a sea of sugar-coated partiality - when anyone who's ever watched the show can tell you it's about as spin-free as the Fox News Channel is "fair and balanced."

But some folks are gluttons for punishment – so I’m sure O’Reilly will have no problem finding people to “debate” with him. Anyone up for tackling the impossible can enter by e-mailing

Generally speaking, debates serve the purpose of sharing perspective with the goal of influencing opinion. But, by and large, most people already have their minds made up beforehand – especially those willing to bring their POV to a worldwide television stage. As a result, there aren’t going to be any epiphanies on the Factor. No one is going to make a point so strong and irrefutable that the other person instantly sees the light and changes his or her mind. It seldom, if ever, happens. The human ego doesn’t work that way. We tend to cling to our beliefs, even when we know we are and have been misled, misinformed, or grossly mistaken. This is ESPECIALLY true when we are making our case in front of a lot of people. It would be hard to imagine a presidential debate during which one candidate stops in the middle of a counterpoint to admit:

“You know what? You’re right. I don’t know why I’ve been arguing against school vouchers. Choice makes far more sense. Pouring money into failing schools is not the answer. Choice encourages competition, which weeds out the weak and improves performance over time. I concede this topic to my opponent. Next question.”

Debates don't work that way. And in party politics, members are told what position to support for unity's sake. Tow the line or get out of the party. Those members particularly popular with the people with have a little more latitude - but not much if they're counting on party money for re-election. Interestingly, those politicians who stray from party lines are the ones who intrigue us most. Senator John McCain, for example, is a Republican who's got a record of challenging his party on major issues. We the people like stand-up personalities like McCain - party stalwarts do not. The issue is credibility. Who has more of it - the pol/pundit who argues each issue independently and on its own merit, or the one who stands in predictable support of the party platform? That's a rhetorical question, please don't strain your brain giving it serious thought.

But parties DO simplify things for people who don't have time to think about important decisions that affect our daily lives. Party affiliation means you can find one or two major issues (usually something socially divisive like abortion, gun control, or capital punishment) that put you in one camp or another and then punch a straight ticket on election day without having to bone up on the consequences of the countless policies your vote is potentially setting into action. Talk about punch drunk.

A part of me wishes we could just vote on the issues via referendum instead of having to elect representatives to vote for us. That would make America a true Democracy instead of a Republic...but true Democracies are equally flawed in that minority opinions are not well represented. Tweaking form of government is risky business with widespread implications, so when I become Lord Supreme I promise not to change things up too least not at first. Sometimes the devil you know does make better company. It's just so hard to find a single public servant representative of your entire body of beliefs. There's always going to be some degree of compromise. That's why I've always been a big fan of the site. It’s a great place to find out which political parties and religious groups would have you as a member.

But now I've rambled on for far too long. Is it lunch time yet?

Tuesday, January 17, 2006


Here’s a page for the ages. It’s a quick photo quiz featuring head shots of men and women who all look like women. Your job is to spot the she-males!

I am proud to report I scored 15/16 on this – and the one I did miss was intentional because I couldn’t believe I was getting them all correct. I guess I just a have 69th sense for this kind of stuff.