Mmm... Fresh Coffee...

So in case you hadn't heard, I'm a big believer in the tried-and-true theory of "you finished off that pot of coffee, you make another friggin' pot." When I say "theory," of course, I mean a solidly-supported set of basic understandings, based on years of research and observation, and not subject to discussion by people who believe in magic. So back the hell off.

Where was I?

Oh yeah -- the coffee. What the shit?!



This is even worse than the office humidity situation...

Whey My Wizzas At?

Yeah, I know: dorkdorkdorkdorkdork. Your mama.

Fish Out Of Water!

According to Science People Who Know Things, the big African Wildebeest migrations are underway. These are apparently the longest and biggest and probably smelliest migrations anywhere -- thousands and thousands of these dumb beasts wander around looking for food and water.

Sometimes, unfortunately, they find the water.

The Olympics Are Over.

Just go back to your everyday lives in the Police State. That is all.

Is That A Threat?

I think I have the basis to sue Blockbuster for harrassment. Or intimidating threats. Or something like that.

Support The Olympics, Bitches!

What's this I hear about people bad-mouthing China's presentation of the 2008 Olympic Games? I for one will not have it, people! That's anti-goodness, when you impugn the integrity of the host nation for a beloved event like the Summer Games. Shame on all of you.

For example, yesterday the Beijing organizers were good enough to not only have a Women's Beach Volleyball Gold Medal Match with 4 lovely, strapping athletes, but then then added a bikini-clad dance team. And then made it rain all over all of them. Dear Sweet Love in the Morning, I've never been so proud to be an American.

Or to have a big TV.

Trade-Offs.

Life is, at times, a matter of tough choices. (It's not completely a matter of choice, no matter what some would tell you, because that wouldn't account for things like disease and poverty and the fact that shit rolls downhill.) But there are certain trade-offs that we make. For example, I'm not going to stop having Yuenglings at Happy Hour, even though it makes it harder to tote my flabby ass around the neighborhood without frequent stops for weeping. Where was I going with this, I wonder. Oh yes: I'm incredibly physically fit.

Dirty Commie Bastards.

Hey, did you hear that the Chinese cheat and lie? It's true.

Umm... UNJUSTIFIED MORAL OUTRAGE! UNJUSTIFIED MORAL OUTRAGE!

Still and all: Dirty Commie Bastards.

Awww, Jeez, Not Another One of the Good Guys...

Don't worry, it wasn't. Just another douchebag military strongman who hitched his wagon to wrongheaded U.S. policy at the expense of his own people and national security. (See also: Shah Reza Pahlavi, Augusto Pinochet, Ferdinand Marcos...) This one is actually stepping down while not being an international flight risk, and, in a truly bizarre twist of fate, we *might* not even grant him asylum. I know, the world's a funny place sometimes...

Now if we could get our own illegitimate military-backed whack-job to step down... or even do something about the illegitimate military-backed whack-job looking to take his place...

Okay, Pay Attention:

Look, I'm not saying that nothing you believe can be true, I'm just saying that the world is most assuredly not 6000 years old. And the layers of the Grand Canyon were not stocked with frickin' trilobites just to keep us guessing. The world is ancient, folks. Soak it all in.



PS: I'd like to make it clear that I'm not saying that Mark Buerhle believes in the 6000-year-old-earth theory. I'm just saying that he plays in a league where he doesn't have to bat for himself. And that's bullshit.

Fucking Shaft.

Seriously, enough is enough. Enough of the cool people dying. Here's twenty bucks. CASH. Bring me the head of Rick Santorum.

Art Is Cool. No, Literally.

Free museums nationwide have been getting lots and lots more bodies through the door this year -- mostly bodies looking for those really cool... couches. Used to be we went to city pools. Now we go to museums.

PS: We didn't really go to city pools. Those places are gross.

It's Not Just Me, Right?

I mean, basically everybody's dying this year, right? If it weren't for the subject of this particular RIP, I'd say it's like the Black Plague all over again. But that would sound insensitive. In this case, unintentionally so.

I saw Bernie Mac on the "Kings of Comedy" tour, closing night in Greensboro, NC. I don't even know what it was about his delivery, but it was so dynamically RIGHT THERE IN PERSON that whether stand-up, television, or movie, I always felt like he was speaking directly to me. Especially that thing he said about my mom. When he jabbed me in the chest.

Sigh.

Ahhh... Soak It Up...

This always reminds me of the way vacationing white women always get the super-island braids when they go to Jamaica and the like. Of course, they have that done in the Sandals Hair Salon. You have to stay safe, after all...



Also, to be fair, this is MUCH cleaner than what our Olympic athletes are paddling around in right about now...

Olympic Sponsorship Deal.

A photo story from NBC regarding the hand signals used by beach volleyball players was kind enough to pick up on my sponsorship deal with... ummm... that girl in the bikini. Hey -- you want in-depth professional sports coverage? Talk the guys at NBC with all the close-up hi-res photos of girls in skimpy bikinis. At least I'm up-front about what kind of perv I am. I mean, what kind of sports coverage I offer.



(Another thing -- I hate it when she covers up my logo!)

So, It's Really Crowded, Right?

Speaking of Chinese Aquatics: Hey! What's the deal with those Chinese pools? They're crowded, see? It's like those Chinese pools are so crowded... [wait for it... wait for it...] that ummm...

Yeah. Crowded. Is basically what we're saying here.

You'll Probably Need A Lot More Hefty Bags.

China -- scourge of all that is good and decent in the world -- managed to buy the 2008 Summer Olympics, based on the agreement that it would be cleaned up and essentially democratic. In the meantime, the place looks like if you set Houston on fire using the spare parts of Los Angeles, protestor-arrests and dissident-executings are going off at a record pace, and reporters there to cover the Games have discovered that (GASP!) the Intrawebs seem to be all censor-fied. Which we've known for years. Too bad we're not real journalists; we could have told them that.

Oh yeah, and the lakes where they'll have the aquatics events are completely covered in a layer of nasty algaefied slime. Yummy. Let the Games begin!



And what other Humor Blog is giving you pre-Olympics Two-For-One Bonus Fun? None worth mentioning, probably...

No, That's Not Jon-Erik Hexum.

Hey, come on lady -- we got you strong and fast and fresh, and he was even here before the morning's light. What's your prob?

Doctor Hathaway? Are You Wearing Makeup?

Ladies and Gentlemen: I present the Tom Cruise carelessly-tussled look. And makeup effects provided by the Wagner Power Painter, apparently.

Bullshit.

After Larry Munson and my own family members (sometimes even in that order), the most recognizable voice from my early years was probably Skip Caray. He started in the radio sports biz with his more-famous father Harry broadcasting Missouri games, got the gig working with the St. Louis Hawks, and followed them to Atlanta in 1968. In 1976, he took over the radio broadcasts for the Braves, and went national with the advent of WTBS becoming a superstation. And he kept up with that gig, even lately in a reduced role, until Sunday, when he died in his sleep.

Shit.

If you're a baseball fan, then I recommend taking in the next game out in the back yard, over the miracle of Radio-Waves, with a cold beer, and an appreciation for the people who bring these things to life. Thanks, Skip.

The Passion Of The Chimp.

There's so much suffering in the world today. I blame Dane Cook.

It's Not The Heat...

Bonus Weekend Post -- "The Humidity In My Office: A Lament"

It Must Be Because He's A Big Hollywood Star.

Susie Feldman is the wife of the less-fucked-up-Corey on the show "The Two Coreys," about how BFFs Corey Feldman and Corey Haim are working their way back into the limelight. And taking that limelight straight to DVD. In happier news, she agreed to take off all her clothes and pose for Playboy -- supposedly for free -- in order to secure said show some publicity. Also supposedly, she was promised the cover, only to be bumped when WTA semi-tennis-player Ashley Harkelroad signed on.

So, for those keeping score: movie goes straight to DVD, show is a joke, Corey Haim lives in your house, you got paid nothing for photo shoot and didn't get the cover, and at the end of the day, you're still married to Edgar Frog. No wonder she's crying. Well, that, and she's probably cold.