Stuck in neutral

You know what joke will simply not take off no matter how many times I try it? Talking to somebody wearing one of those yellow Livestrong bracelets and saying, "So, you're against cancer? That's awesome."

Something's off

Watching TV last night, I came across one of the typical proposition ads you see leading up to an election. This ad was telling us to vote against Proposition 68 or some number, which would I believe would either allow card clubs and parlors to expand, or increase taxes on Indian casinos.

(Which brings up a whole other issue. I mean, we kick Indians off their land and 200 years later "allow" them to open casinos to make some money for themselves. We even said, "You guys have suffered enough. Don't worry about taxes. Keep most of it for yourselves." Maybe assuming they wouldn't even get the gaming palaces off the ground. Then, when we find out that Indian casinos are cash cows - shocker! - we demand taxes and fees and stuff from them. It's almost as if 18th century pioneers gave the Indians syphilitic blankets, then, when the Indians figured out some way to cure polio and scurvy with the infected blankets, the pioneers demanded the blankets back.)

Anyway, what really stuck out was after this guy told us to vote against or for whatever this was (Could that statement possibly be more American, by the way? So vague on electoral details!), he ran down a list of the proposition's endorsers.

- The Fraternal Order of Police
- American Firefighters Union
- Group For Prop 68
- Governor Schwarzeneggar

Just seeing it there in print really drives it home. Governor. Schwarzeneggar.

By the way, you know who is definitely FOR casino expansion? The Gambler.

She's better than you!

Next time you're stuck in traffic, you'll have yet another reason to wish you were Mischa Barton. Oh sure, she's stuck in traffic too, but she can stay busy by looking at the proofs from her latest photo shoot. You see, Mischa doesn't drive herself anywhere. Too common man for her.

"There's something about not being the quintessential Hollywood person who has to drive to every meeting themselves," "The O.C." star Mischa Barton says in next month's issue of Jane magazine. "You're in your own little area more. Somebody drives me to work - either my mom or an assistant. Or my boyfriend"

I'm really hoping Mischa starts getting uppity on the O.C. set this season, and Schwartz decides to just kill her off and be done with it. She can accidentally OD on Absolut and pills, then fall into the pool. Then we can see Benny Mac cry and look stage left, which he considers to be "acting." Then he'll get in a fight at the funeral, knocking over Marissa's casket. The Cohens will think that's the final, final, final straw and send him back to Chino for a week as a punishment. Then they'll realize Chino sucks and bring him back to Newport.

Red Wine Jeff! (It Only Takes One Glass)

After traveling on business with the Buckle and the Kinger, it came to our attention that the Kinger gets really drunk on red wine. One glass is enough for fun and two makes things really wild. So, of course, Buckle and I wrote a song about it.

There is a man, his name is King
And don't you know, merlot's his thing
It makes him feel all warm inside
One glass down and he's ready to ride

Red Wine Jeff!
He loves his spas and saunas!
Red Wine Jeff!
C'mon, you know you wanna!

If he's had one glass, he'll always go for two
Once that one's down, who knows just what he'll do
If you're young and cute, he just might share a glass
But get real drunk, cause he's gonna loosen up your ass

Red Wine Jeff!
He loves his spas and saunas!
Red Wine Jeff!
C'mon, you know you wanna!

He staggers around and says he's doing fine
Pour one more glass, he says it's mine, mine mine
He just can't hold that strong grape juice
Get some in and he has to turn it loose

Once a week, he wants a good rub down
When it comes to men he likes skin of brown
Never had a need for no underwear
Drinks red wine and just don't care

Red Wine Jeff!
He loves his spas and saunas!
Red Wine Jeff!
C'mon you know you wanna!
Red Wine Jeff!

C'mon

So, after Kerry criticized Iyad Allawi for giving a duplicate of President Bush's overly optimistic speech about the state of Iraq, Bush came out and retorted on Kerry's comments. Bush actually said you can't be president if you undercut an ally. Germany? France? Canada? Those ring any bells?

Then, Cheney had the gall to criticize Kerry for showing a lack of respect to Allawai, our CIA-paid puppet master in Iraq. Yes, that's the same Cheney that told Patrick Leahy to "fuck off" on the Senate floor. Yes, that's the same Cheney that says Al Qaeda wants Kerry to win. So, really, I guess he actually is an expert on what constitutes a lack of respect.

By the way, if you think it's weird that a CIA ally is being installed as the leader of Iraq, don't worry. It worked out perfectly fine when we did it with Saddam Hussein years back.

Britney Federline

While the press is busy sorting out whether Britney actually married Kevin Federline or not this weekend, and why the happy couple hasn't filed a marriage license yet, they captured this insightful quote from the former backup dancer.

"No piece of paper can capture what I feel." Then after, a thoughtful pause, I'm guessing he added, "Except for a $100 bill."

Wha?

Driving around recently, I flipped over to R&B Jamz 5000 or whatever the station is called. I was sorta half-listening to the computer-generated song when the singer started talking. And that’s when I heard this: “Girl, this is the hardest thing I ever had to do. Tell the woman I love I’m having a baby with a woman I hardly know. This ain’t about my career? This ain’t about me. This is about us.” What the heck kind of upside down love song is this? And what did his lady say when she first heard this song? “Ooh! You wrote a song for me?! That’s so sweet! Wait…what is this song about?”

I mean, write what you know, I guess, but man. I would love to meet the couple out there that hears this song on the radio and says, “This is our jam!”

Ow!

Playing rec hockey last night, I got slashed on the thumb. Hard. And it hurt. Today, the top of my thumbnail is black and blue.

I want to track down the guy that did it and say, "Look! Look at what you've done! This is going to slightly hurt all week! Shame on you!"

And then hopefully he'd say, "Aw man, I'm sorry. Let's go out for bacon double cheeseburgers, on me."

That might make me feel a little better.

Awesome

"Don't want a sticker, eh? Think you're too cool for 'em? Well...HOW ABOUT YOU TAKE 20 STICKERS, BITCH!"

Pretty pictures

Over at American Elf, this guy James Kolchalka illustrates this really great daily strip. It's about his life and such. Basically a visual blog. And the new strip is free, so I always check up on it.

It's not riotously funny, but it's really pleasant and optimistic and usually makes you smile. It's kinda like Ziggy for hipsters.

Ouch

Watching MNF, I saw a promo for a new episode of Extreme Makeover. It went like this:

"We'll build a brand new home for this widower and his eight kids..."

Eight! I didn't know women could die of a loose vag.

No

Seriously, can we just end this quality beer ad battle between Coors Light, Bud Light and Miller Lite? If you guys want to argue about which beer can get you the drunkest the cheapest, or which beer makes sorority chicks put out more, or which beer is easier to see through, or which beer leads to better high fives in a football stadium, fine. But if we're going to start argue quality and brewing methods and such, it'll get a touch ridiculous. Miller Lite tastes better than Bud Light! What? They both taste like shit! Where's the argument here?

Speaking of which, sort of, the main scoreboard at the Eagles' home stadium is buffeted by two ads. One for Levitra and one for Budweiser. God bless America.

Blue collar

Flipping around the channels tonight, I came across Blue Collar TV. At first, I thought I was dropped into a wayback machine or something. A Bush is in the White House, we have a crushing national debt, we're fighting in Iraq and Jeff Foxworthy is popular. Next thing you know, all the rap guys will be wearing sports jerseys in their videos and...oh. I might as well just buy a pair of Cross Colours jeans now and get it over with.

My favorite part of the whole show was when my wife, addled with a migraine and hopped up on medicine watched the following brief exchange:

INT. COURTHOUSE - DAY
Three brothers are on trial. A fourth brother runs into the courtroom.

Brother One: I got bad news! The cable's out!

Brother Two: The cable's out?!

Brother Three: The Talladega 500 is this weekend.

The wife, barely able to speak, said, "They're going to go to jail to watch the race." Sure enough. Maybe if she was from Tennessee, this would've been more of a cliffhanger.

By the way, if you're wondering, Blue Collar TV is like Hee Haw, but not as difficult to follow. For instance, every time one of the stars comes on stage, the audience goes "Whooooo!" like a TRL crowd. You have to love Republican base entertainment. Maybe if Bush gets four more years and Putin keeps strong arming Russia, Chevy Chase can finally get Spies Like Us 2: Glassnose off the back burner at Paramount.

Just one

Have you EVER met anybody that has once said, "You know, I think Jim Belushi is really funny." I mean, I know somebody is out there that likes him. People are watching that show.

The same can be saidof Colin Quinn. I've never heard anybody ever say, "Man, that guy just kills me."

Precious

The following exchange really just happened. I was in the living room. The wife was in the kitchen.

The Wife: (reading newly-posted rec league hockey schedule) Which team are you?

Me: Look at the highlighted parts.

The Wife: But which team are you?

Me: The Stonecutters. Why?

The Wife: You don't have a game this week.

Me: You're not reading it right.

(pause)

The Wife: Oh. There's another side. I didn't see it.

Me: I told you to look at the highlighted part.

The Wife: I couldn't see it. The light's not on.

I can't wait to be Left Behind

Strolling through my local Bristol Farms one evening, I spied a book rack holding The Secret of Ararat, the latest book from the author of the Left Behind series. For those who don't know, this is a series of books about the end of civilization, when all Christians will be in really great shape and the rest of us are boned. The series goes into more detail than that, but basically, if you're flying across the country when the end comes, you'd better hope your pilot is a heathen, or else he'll be sucked up into heaven and nobody will be left to fly the plane. Next stop: hell.

Knowing that this series of books has sold millions and millions of copies to the superstitious and gullible, I opened up to a random page to see what the fuss was all about. Sample dialogue:

Confused friend of girl who was bad but is now earmarked for heaven: "Wait. You don't love your father?"

GWWBBINEFH: "No. I could never impress him. In college, I started experimenting with drugs. But then I realize my other father, Jesus Christ loved me. And everything was okay."

Confused friend of girl: "So you love Jesus Christ too?"

Such natural dialogue! Man, I really thought a book about people mysteriously vanishing up into heaven would've been written above a sixth grade level. Maybe God told him to keep it simple.

But you know who I bet loves this book? Kirk Cameron.

The Franz

So I've been listening to the Franz Ferdinand disc for a few months now and I'm really digging it. I can listen to it over and over. The only thing is, the entire album sounds like a collection of gay dancehall hits.

Maybe I'm just reading too much into lyrics like, "Here's what I am, I am a man, so come and dance with me, Michael...Beautiful boys on the beautiful dance floor, Michael you're dancing like a beautiful dance whore."

I just figured it out!

Bush and his supporters slyly claim that God wants Bush to be the President during these times.

But things weren't so good in the polls. So God sends not one, not two, but three hurricanes to Florida, a key battleground state, the summer before the election, giving Bush multiple photo ops lifting bags of ice and hugging people whose trailer roof is now two miles away.

Why no earthquakes in California before the election? Because it's a Kerry state!

Man, God sure is smart.

Duh-bya

An article in Slate yesterday discussed Bush's God fetish and weighed whether or not he really felt like he was appointed by God to be President. The story included this anecdote.

Apparently, one day Georgie and mom Barbara were sitting in church when the preacher told a story about Moses being called to service by God. It seems that Barbara thought this was a perfect opportunity to influence her do-nothing, shockingly uncurious, opporunity-blowing son. A man who was born into incredible wealth and connections, yet seemed perfectly happy to live his life doing nothing but drinking and watching sports. So mom turned to son and said, "He was talking to you." As if the preacher took requests before the sermon.

According to the article, "Stephen Mansfield, author of The Faith of George W. Bush, goes on to say: 'Not long after, Bush called James Robison (a prominent minister) and told him, 'I've heard the call. I believe God wants me to run for President.' ' "

I usually get the feeling that during his private moments, Bush hums classic rock songs to himself rather than deliberating foreign policy or great books or what Italy might be like in the fall. But even then, the fact that one line from his mother would shock him out of his stupor is still shocking. Of course, that might explain why he believed everything he was told about Iraq and Hussein. Bush's brain is like a dry erase board. You can just put whatever the hell you want on it.

By the way, for you midwestern Republicans who think Bush is just a regular old guy, let's imagine for a second you have a complete fuck up of a son. At best, if you put some inspiration in him, he can become assistant manager at Best Buy. Bush can become President without even wanting to. He's nothing like you.

What's wrong with Hollywood

They just announced that the final piece of the Dukes of Hazzard puzzle has been placed. Jessica Simpson will star as Daisy, opposite a Bo and Luke of Seann William Scott and Johnny Knoxville.

So, basically, you have a girl who can't act starring opposite one guy nobody likes and another guy that got his start punching himself in the nuts. This all in a project that nobody was really clamoring for.

But Starsky and Hutch was a hit! And people like to laugh at Jessica Simpson! Right, because she's an idiot, not because she has impeccable comic timing.

That, friends, is what is wrong with Hollywood.

Dear Lord...(Part II)

After catching three touchdowns yesterday, Terrell Owens told an interview he was thankful God put him in a such a beautiful situation in Philadelphia.

So...I guess the moral is is that if you complain about not getting the ball enough, God will reward you.

Also, this may explain Kurt Warner's sudden downfall into terribleness. Apparently, God can only help out one NFL player at a time, so Kurt, you're on your own again.

Dear Lord... (Part I)

Yesterday, President Bush and some other wise folks advised the people of Florida to start praying that their homes will withstand Hurricane Ivan. Not to get too meta here, but...they're supposed to pray to God to send the hurriance (that he created, we can only assume) to smash somebody else's house, preferably one in Lousiana? I think I get religion now!

Interestingly, this is the same way people prepared for hurricanes 200 years ago. We've come a long way, baby.

Vegas is...

Observations and other observances from a short weekend in Vegas...

- I want to the meet the person who is blown away by impressionists. I saw one ad for a group named The Scintas, and judging from the photos, they sing songs and act incredibly wacky. Also, one of them, maybe Tito, does a George Burns impersonation. George Burns! He's been dead for 10 years! Why not just do FDR while you're at it? And is an Elvis impersonation really an accomplishment any more? People don't even want to see the real Joan Rivers. Why would anybody pay to see somebody sort of act and look like her?

- On that same note, if you went to see Danny Gans, and then proceeded to describe him as "really talented", you are an idiot.

- I love watching chicks visit Vegas and break out that really short skirt and tight top they can't wear to the office happy hour Friday evenings. "Finally, I can look like I really want to fuck without people judging me!"

- The other best thing is seeing the pack of seven dudes walking around like they are having the single most awesome/intense/amazing/cool Vegas weekend in recorded history. "This place was nothing before we got here!"

No need to quit now

Oh, I almost forgot! At the same barbecue, my friend's grandma was in attendance. She's about 74, and took up smoking at the age of 68 or so. At that point, why not, I guess.

Anyway, this poor old woman was so frail, that she couldn't even flick her ashes off. She just sat there, letting it dangle until one of the grandkids came over and tapped her cigarette to knock the long ash off.

It was probably one of the top seven things I've ever personally witnessed.

Babies aplenty

We went back home to Pittsburgh last weekend for a wedding. Weddings are no longer fun for us because we're at that weird age where we don't dance at weddings because we're not 24 anymore and we're not 56 yet. So basically, we just sit there and watch other people have fun while trying to come up with a good answer to "So, what have you been up to?"

Anyway, on Sunday we went to a barbecue and a few old acquaintances brought their babies. And baby carriers. And baby formula. And baby toys. And three changes of baby clothes. And a big canvas sack to carry it all. The parents of the youngest ones mainly held their squirmy offspring in their laps while answering, "Nah, I can't. The baby." to every question that came their way. "Want to play volleyball?" "Want to get a beer?" "Want to enjoy your life?"

But the real gems were the 2-3 year olds who seemed to be fascinated by dirt and falling down. My favorite kid was eating this cookie topped with red icing. Maybe not eating. Mostly smearing it on his chin. It seriously looked like the kid got into a can of paint. Mom made no effort to wipe it off, leading me to believe this wasn't a unique event.

On the drive back to the hotel I remarked, "Man, I don't know why anybody would go through that." This did not go over well with The Wife.

Football!

Somehow you just don't get fired up for a new NFL season when your team will probably go 9-7 at best this year.

Unless the Steelers' offensive line, pass defense and running game experience a miraculous resurgence this season, I'm going to spend a lot of Sunday afternoons mostly pissed off and full of spinach dip.

Cheney rules!

Vote for us or we'll be attacked by terrorists again!

Says the guy who was in office when...we were attacked by terrorists.

Uh...well...it's like this. If you make more than $300,000 a year or own a a strip mining company, you should vote for Bush. If not, they don't have your interests in mind.

Fun with stereotyping

I can't explain why, but Asians over 35 years old have no ass. It simply doesn't exist. They tuck their shirt into pants that drop straight to the floor with no excursions. It's the damnedest thing.