Friday, June 23, 2006


Don’t you just love watching the deleted scenes on a DVD rental, just to see what the director decided you wouldn’t have the patience to sit through?

Me neither. But sometimes I accidentally hit that button in the dark and can't find the right button, so I end up watching them all anyhow. It's actually kind of cool to sit through all of the deleted scenes first - THEN watch the movie. It's like taking a two hour deja vu trip where everything seems eerily familiar, yet it's all completely new.’s a little something you may not have seen that’s definitely worth checking out. It’s a deleted scene from Star Wars that didn’t even make the DVD!

Yeah – the deleted DELETED scene from Star Wars. I’m here for you, people.


This morning I found a whoopie cushion in the back of one of the cabinets here at work and life at the office will never be the same. I've been walking aroung trumpeting it loudly all morning long, mostly to awkward chuckles and turning heads. It's one of those self-filling whoopie cushions, too, so instead of having to blow it up after each flatulent expulsion, it swells up on its own.

This efficiency in third-world-produced gag gifts has enabled me to get far more use out of it than any other toot-mimicking toy of its kind. Innovation rocks!

I've spent a good bit of my day attmepting to perfect a virtual symphony of fart sounds. I just followed up a long, high-pitched ass siren with a series of bassy cheek blasters that sounded like a like a chipmunk getting run over by a lawn mower. You would have loved it. Here - let me try another one for you.

Did you hear that? Yeah. A Harley Davidson crashing into an ambulance. Sweet.

And the best part is, I've been using this damn thing so frequently, I've a been able to fart as loud as I like - and no once can tell the difference. At least not until they walk by my desk. But most people know better than to try that by now.


What does it mean to be cool?

I mean, I’m pretty fucking cool. But what does that MEAN? How does one get to be cool? What are the criteria of coolness? Do you have to smoke to be cool? Not anymore. Do you have to hate your parents to be cool? So not cool. Do you have to have your own rock band to be cool? We may be getting warmer. Does being tall improve your coolness? Use of slang? Body piercings?

Some social scientists recently developed a short questionnaire designed to reveal your “cool” factor, and it's pretty enlightening.

So are YOU cool? You can take the cool test here.

Thursday, June 22, 2006


If you people think I'M a big prick, check out this grinnin' needle dick.

But seriously, that's not why I wanted to type up this post. Sometimes my fingers start clicking and I can't stop them. Next thing you know I've attached a photo of a pervert in a cowboy hat humping desert flora.

The REAL reason I started this post was to recommend a couple more movies. In addition to An Inconvenient Truth, the must-see docu-horror film of the century, I also wanted to offer public praise for the film Thank You For Smoking. Saw it yesterday and found it a light-hearted stroll down mammary lane. No wait - now I'm thinking of Thank You For Stroking. A different film altogether. I don't recommend that one so much - gets boring after the first three or four minutes.

Anyhow, Thank You For Smoking is based on the Christopher Buckley novel by the same name - which I also (HIGHLY) recommend. Every line is packed with frivolity and attitude - a refreshing change of pace from the mind-numbing non-fiction I insist on force-feeding my overworked, underpaid brain day after day. The film, in case you couldn't tell from the title, is a grandiose exercise in hyperbole. The plot and characters are so overdone you can't help but smile - which makes the movie's multiple messages all the more powerful. It's still in limited release - but definitely rent that bad boy when it's pressed on plastic.

Another movie I don't mind recommending is Cinderella Man. I'm talking about Ron Howard's historical boxing drama here, not the unauthorized biography of an "artist" most people still refer to as Prince - who I'm sure has been called a Cinderella Man more than once in his life.

Geri and I watched Cinderella Man this past week and both enjoyed it immensely - although Geri thinks the movie would have been a lot better without all the graphic boxing scenes. I personally don't remember much else about the movie EXCEPT for the graphic boxing scenes. Regardless, we both remember liking it. Geri actually got so anxious about the ending she made me stop the movie and wouldn't finish watching it without knowing in advance how it ended. So I told her to Google "Braddock vs. Baer" since the movie was based on a true story. She glanced at a few of the matches, breathed a sigh of relief, smiled knowingly, and let me hit the play button again.

"You're ridiculous," I said, adding: "And don't tell me how it ends."

Definitely worth renting, if not Googling.


Just when you thought I had a monopoly on all the good ideas…

Check out this link and read about a beer belly you actually WANT. It’s a strap-on gut that helps you sneak into all your favorite places with a tummy full of cerveza. Not only does it LOOK real, it was designed to FEEL real when patted down by security at sports and music venues. Where there's a will to swill, there's a way.

This picture has nothing to do with this post. Just included it for your viewing pleasure. You're welcome.

I am a lot like this dog, actually. No need to be jealous - it's not how you think. I too am short, hairy, goofy looking, brown-eyed, and love to wear colorful ribbons in public. And yes, like this pug, I am paradoxically hideous and adorable at the same time. I just don't have a tongue like that.

Mine is defiitely a little fatter and longer.


Steven Hawking says we’re in trouble. And when Steven fucking Hawking says we’re in trouble, we’re really in trouble.

Who is Steven Hawking? WHO is Steven HAWKING? You did NOT just ask me that. He’s the ultimate brain – a brilliant mind, and a man whose health has been steadily deteriorating over the years due to ALS (Lou Gehrig’s Disease). He’s now a quadriplegic who no longer has the ability to speak. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a lot to say about what’s going on in the world.

First the credentials. Hawking is perhaps the world’s most renowned theoretical physicist, and a man you would not want to challenge to mathematical duel. He would stomp all over you with complex equations and bury you under a truckload of digits – all correct to the last decimal point. Some have even suggested Steven Hawking approaches me intellectually. A stretch, to be sure, but the comparison should give you a pretty good idea of the mental powerhouse we’re dealing with here. Wait – did I say he approached ME intellectually? I’m sorry. I meant Sir Isaac Newton. Sorry, I always get the two of us mixed up. Newton had a better wig – I have the much heavier testicles. Sorry, Newton – gravity says so!

Anyhow, Steven Hawking – a fucking master of science, math, physics, and one of the great mental powerhouses of our time – is now on record as saying we’re in trouble. It all started last week when he warned that global warning posed an imminent threat to the health and safety of everyone on the planet. To drive this point home he made the assertion that, to survive, the human race would have to colonize elsewhere in space. He suggested an eventual colony on Mars by way of a base on the moon.

Then, just this week, he publicly stated at a conference in China that he’s “very worried about global warming.” He went on to say that he’s worried the Earth “might end up like Venus, at 250 degrees centigrade and raining sulfuric acid.”

If this doesn’t sound like science fiction to you, you need to read more science fiction. Of course, Hawking isn’t hawking fiction here. He’s pitching science. He’s legitimately concerned with the numbers, and the numbers foretell of an irreversible warming trend with apocalyptic consequences. Can you even imagine a handful of humans on a moon colony, clinging to survival, watching the earth boil from a safe distance - inhabitable? This is where the top scientific minds of our time are taking us.

I know a lot of people will have a hard time taking tips from a man who can no longer dress himself (and I’m talking about me here, not Steven Hawking), but we really need to consider taking action on this – and now. I’m not suggesting we, as individuals, need to curb our individual energy consumption. This isn't your patent go-ride-a-bike speech. While that would be a start, small-scale changes liek that aren’t going to make a whole lot of difference in the grand scheme unless we take on the policies directing energy consumption on a much larger scale. Let's face facts: money buys influence, and oil money has a stranglehold on U.S. policymaking at the highest level. Our fuel consumption standards are among the worst in the world. Our consumption per capita as a people is dramatically higher than anywhere else in the world. And instead of joining the world in an effort to curb harmful emissions, we abandon Kyoto to protect a reckless agenda of selfish consumerism and gluttonous consumption.

There are immediate ways to address the problem – but we need decision-makers in high places willing and able to take dramatic steps toward preserving our common future. Our mission, should we choose to accept it, is to promote global health through advancing the election of representation dedicated to restoring it.

Your vote isn’t just your voice anymore – it’s your thermostat. And when Steven Hawking says it's time to turn the heat down, we probably ought to listen. Hopefully we'll have better luck than the Dallas Mavericks.

Wednesday, June 21, 2006


Dustin Diamond needs your help! The actor who played Screech on the teen television sensation “Saved by the Bell” hopes he his house will be Saved by the Internet.

True story. Apparently, the bank is trying to foreclose on his $250,000 house (which in today’s ridiculous housing market won’t get you more than an air conditioned outhouse in most areas) and he’s desperate to hang onto it. So he’s driving people to his web site where people can buy t-shirts that say they helped Screech keep his house. Except that Screech is spelled “Screeech” on the shirts for copyright purposes.

So if you’ve got more money than you know what to do with, there’s something to do with it. Of course, you can also send any extra cash you have laying around to me by clicking on my PayPal link.

Quit laughing…I’m totally serious.

I mean it!