Friday, April 21, 2006


I took a dump at work earlier this morning and am pretty sure I forgot to flush. Do you ever get back to your desk and wonder that? It’s like wondering if you remembered to lock your door, or turn your oven off. Crap – did I flush? I don’t remember flushing. I don’t think I did.

Oh well. It’s far too late to go back now…

In other news, I just pulled out a nose hair that was completely white. It’s officially my first white hair. Can a nose hair qualify as your first white hair, or does it have to be found on your head somewhere? Really. I want to know.


Okay, so by now you’ve heard the rumors that gas is expected to climb to $24/gallon or something ridiculous like that. Or was it $4? I can’t remember. Either way, that’s more than I’m comfortable paying without cutting back in other areas like beer and pizza. Unfortunately, consumers at large remain largely powerless to do anything about it. And that’s despite all of these e-mails telling us to boycott certain gas stations or to prevent buying gas on certain days. All that’s managed to do so far is inconvenience me while the price of gas drives higher and higher.

One thing we CAN do is be smart consumers and buy gas where it is the cheapest.

Thanks to AG for the above link – it lists all of the prices at all of the gas stations in your ZIP code so you don’t have to drive around the neighborhood comparing them all (which would cost you about $7.34 to do on today’s prices).

Didn’t Exxon just post the biggest profits in the history of the world?

My guess is someone in the oil industry got word from Acting President Dick Cheney that plans to strike Iran are in the works. Funny how we invaded Iraq looking for nuclear weapons, and in the time we spent digging around in the sand over there (and finding nothing), the industrious Iranians next door managed to whip up some nuclear power of their own. Now we DO have a problem. What we feared would happen has happened: nukes in the Middle East.

“Yoo hoo! Mr. Bush man! Looking for THESE?!?!?!”

Hey – let’s cut the Iranians a break here. They say they need nuclear energy to create electricity. They must be having a hard time finding access to oil.

Bush's Axis of Evil has become a self-fulfilling prophecy. Iraq has become a terrorist breeding ground and military quagmire - a black hole that sucks away vital American resources hour after deadly hour. And while we've been busily trying to get Iraqis to get along with each other, North Korea and Iran have gone on to join the nuclear club. And just when you think things can't get any more fucked up you realize that Bush's contract doesn't expire for another 2 1/2 years. Is there any way we can offer him a buyout? Then we could throw some money at Parcells or Belichick and put a proven winner in charge.

When you're done checking out cheap gas stations near you, you've got to snap your fingers to this bad boy, created in the spirit and style of a Jib Jab Production.

Thanks Jay!


I know this one has been around awhile, but it never ceases to amaze me. I’m sure there’s computer-aided manipulation involved, but it’s so seamless I can’t figure out where! Amazing.

Actually, I looked it up. No computer graphics. This scene took 606 takes.

Click on the header for the Snopes article.

Thursday, April 20, 2006


I may be having the gayest week of my life.

It’s only Thursday and already I’ve enjoyed a pedicure, shoe shopping, lobster bisque, and an entire Broadway Musical. What the hell has gotten into me? I think it's healthy to be in touch with your feminine side, but I’ve been seemingly unable able to let mine go.

Last Saturday night was poker night: Nine guys playing cards and sucking down malt alcohol as if scientists had just announced it would reverse male pattern baldness. At 2:30am, I somehow managed to climb out of the hole I was in, rising from a depleted table $11 wealthier than when I sat down. It was a small, but exhilarating victory – like pulling up to a parking meter with time still left in it. Shortly after, I passed out in Steve's bright yellow baby room and my manhood has been rolling downhill ever since.

I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary on Easter Sunday, but on Monday the wheels came off. Geri and I met after work at a place called Spa Space, situated on the corner of Randolph and Canal, not far from the office. For Valentine’s Day, she’d given me a gift certificate good for a Wine & Roses Couples Pedicure, and we decided that with summer right around the corner it would be a good time to put it to use. I’d never had a pedicure before and wasn’t so sure about the idea. I’ve always been of the mind that no one really needs to see my feet, let alone touch them. Making the jump from Keds to flip-flops took me longer than most, so agreeing to a pedicure was a big step for me. And, I must say, the experience proved as enjoyable as it was foreign.

They had us both sit in big comfy leather recliners that vibrated and heated up at the touch of a button in a tiny, private suite in the back of the boutique. I remember thinking how a flat panel television running ESPN2 would have been a nice addition, but I made do with Wedding magazine. Then they had us submerge our dogs in mini Jacuzzis for a nice, relaxing soak. We were delivered glasses of red wine and served ice water garnished with cucumber slices. I’m not sure whether the cucumber was for decoration or not, but someone needs to tell them that it definitely changes the flavor of the water, and not for the better. That would have been the perfect opportunity for them to wheel in a build-your-own-nachos cart, but the hot jets in the bubbly foot bath sufficed. After several minutes, two women came into our private suite to perform the pedicures. At this point I was definitely pedicurious to find out what came next.

My pedicurist began by clipping my toenails, something I don’t do as often or as well on my own. I find if I leave them alone long enough they eventually take care of themselves one way or another. On this day they were given a precision clip job and had never been straighter. After a good trim, she proceeded to brush and scrub my feet and toes with several tools of varying abrasiveness from an Emory board to a Black & Decker power sander. I am probably kidding about the power sander – at least as far as you know. The filing process tickled and I had to concentrate very hard to avoid reflexively kicking her in the face. Then she lubed up my wheels with a sandy solution and gave me a penetrating foot rub, which sounds dirtier than it was. Following this treatment was another brief soak, after which she gave my nails a closer look – paying special attention to the one I’d smashed playing basketball months ago. Somehow, though the miracle of modern science, she was able to buff it back into something resembling a normal nail. There was no nail polish involved, but I was definitely colored impressed.

After having my lower digits detailed, I was oiled up again with another solution and rubbed down. Geri kept an eye on me throughout the procedure to gauge my comfort level, but it didn’t take long for the anxiety to subside in favor of repose. At one point she actually asked if I was snoring.

“Huh? What? No. I don’t think so. Was I? No. I couldn’t have been. Was I?”

I left Spa Space with a hoppin’ fresh set of steppers and a whole new understanding of the service. I finally realized why there are more mani-pedi boutiques in Chicago than Starbucks locations. Nail salons and spa care joints provide relaxing ways for girls to pamper themselves while in between haircuts. I must admit, it was an enjoyable experience that I would never have given myself – which made it a fantastic gift idea. I can’t say that I’d ever spend my own money on cosmetic foot care, but am glad for having had the opportunity to see what all the fuss is about.

On Tuesday, I rode the momentum of my toe-tally enlightening experience over to DSW to shop for shoes. I figured since my toes were (for once) presentable, it would be a good time to try on some summer sandals. At no time did it occur to me that my masculinity was being compromised. This consideration didn’t dawn on me until last night, about half way through Act II of the Broadway musical Spamalot, as I found myself whistling along to one of the show’s signature numbers. Yes...I’d completely let go of my manhood in favor of fancy footwear and over-produced showtunes. And I was enjoying every second of it!

And I'm also not embarrassed to endorse Spamalot. The genius of the show is that the producers took something for boys (Monty Python) and made it something for girls (a musical). The result was a hilarious spoof of musicals that had cross-gender appeal. Indeed, the audience was roaring from start to finish. It was a fabulous way to spend an evening! Did I just say fabulous? My T-levels must be dropping fast...

With football season still 4 months away, I’m worried I may need to undergo Male Replacement Therapy. If I start talking about getting highlights for my hair, please check me into an off-track betting parlor and put me on a pork drip. And even if you have to fight me for it, I authorize you to take away my purse, even if I insist on calling it a “man bag.”

And now if you’ll excuse me, it’s tea time.

Wednesday, April 19, 2006


Sing that song, sister! His approval rating is so low they're now calling it his disapproval rating, which is around 61%. The next Rolling Stone magazine's feature article is an argument for the possibility that Dubya will wind up being considered our worst president ever. That's not an endorsement for America's better judgment considering "we" re-elected him. And, of course, you'll always have your hard core folks who insist he was what this country needed at the time. They'd likely also be for abolishing term limits since a change at the top would be, as it would have been in 2004, considered changing horses mid-stream. The bottom line is, in two years someone is going to inherit a fucking mess and I think it should be Ty from Extreme Home Makeover. That dude can turn an outhouse into a Port-O-Palace - imagine what he could do for the state of the nation. It's time for Extreme Makeover: Government Edition

Tuesday, April 18, 2006


If you liked Babble, you’ll love Iron Sudoku. Actually, that’s not necessarily true. Babble was a word find game, Sudoku is a game of logic. But if you enjoy mental exercise, Iron Sudoku will give your cranial wheels a workout.

Don’t let the numbers fool you – Sudoku has nothing to do with math. They could fill the boxes with colors or shapes and the strategy would be the same. Numerals are used because they’re well-recognize symbols that people can immediately differentiate with ease. If you’ve never played before, simply use deductive logic and the process of elimination to start filling boxes with symbols until you have a finished puzzle that complies with the game's stated objective: Use each number just once per row, column, and box.


I know it’s been awhile, so I wanted to remind you that there is LEGO porn available on the Internet, and you will find it here.

You’re welcome.


Here’s a classic for ya – Bill Buckner’s famous World Series miscue immortalized, RBI Baseball style.

This had to have taken some time.

Thanks to several folks for this gem.


Al Gore has made a movie about global warming, heating up rumors that he may be planning to make another run for the White House. Apparently the movie has been quite popular at early screenings.

Now that we’ve seen the best the Republican Party had to offer, I think I’m finally ready for Al Gore. As long as he doesn’t say “I told you so.”

You can check out the trailer here.