Dear Ravens.

Did you like that? DID YOU LIKE THAT?!

Like my man Rip would tell you:

GET YOU SOME OF THAT!

The Year John McCain Jumped The Shark.

No one gets to use the term "Maverick" any more, unless either:

1. Referring to the Tom Cruise character in "Top Gun,"

2. Referring to the James Garner TV Western,

3. Speaking entirely ironically.

More Of The Same... More Of The Same...

Hey, it's a lazy week here, and if it's working for John "Did I Mention That I Was In A POW Camp? Because I Was" McCain, it'll work for me. I'm a Maverick! Whooo!

"Maverick." Right.

"But... he's a Maverick, see..." Thus the mantra of Sarah Palin's desperately stupid time-wasting fake answer when pressed by Katie Couric (!) to explain how a candidate who had spent his entire career pushing for deregulation was suddenly a regulatory champion. Sides with Bush on over 90% of all votes for the last 8 years? Changed his stance on every meaningful issue in order to court the GOP/Fundamentalist base? Named a running mate with no qualifications, just to re-assure said Fundamentalists? Adopted not only the same campaign strategies, but the same campaign personnel that he decried as "evil" and "intolerant" just two campaigns ago?

Right. Maverick.

Thanks, But No Thanks.

What's that? Would I care to chip in a couple extra thousand dollars so that the taxpayers can buy up the bad debt in the financial market Crap-a-thon? You say it would work out to roughly $4000 per taxpayer, is all?

No thanks: I already gave at the office:

Hey... That Looks Familiar.

Some call it laziness. I call it Green Web Comics -- see how I recycle the content? And even the text is made from biodegradable soy-based pixels.

Hey. You don't judge me.

Mmm... That's Good Accountability...

So the same geniuses who fought and scratched and mocked and bludgeoned their way to completely deregulating the banking and investment industries have now given us... well, maybe the single biggest self-inflicted ass-rape of all time. But not to worry, because... look! In the sky! It's SUPER AMERICAN TAXPAYER!

Hey! Anyone for some more upper-class and corporate tax cuts, while we're at it?

Ahhh... The Colors Of Fall...

The season when everyone breaks out their finest collegiate colors, even the ones that make them look like radioactive pumpkins. Well... the splattered guts of radioactive pumpkins.

Yuck.

Only If You Jump Without A Parachute.

So, yeah. Wall Street. Too big to fail, and now the latest bailout is going to come in to the tune of close to a trillion bucks. But it's okay -- we got rid of those pesky requirements that there be some kind of transparent bookkeeping... or corporate accountability... or, Heaven Forbid, a cap on executive salaries. So, while you and me are footing the bill on our salaries, there will be no cap on the salaries or Golden Parachutes for those who ran the sector into the toilet and now get to bail.

I say we offer them all Golden Showers, instead. And lots and lots of cockpunching, of course.

Dear Heisman Voters (#2):

It's A "Post" About "Politics."

First, John McCain admitted that he wasn't an expert on economics. Fair enough. But after saying some dumb things about economics, he was pressed on that admission, which he then denied. Vehemently.

And yet, every quotation from his piehole is like a footnote to that earlier one. So he'll be concentrating on foreign policy. As long as he can figure out where Spain is, that is...

AAAAAAAAAAAGH MY LEGS!

OK, so explain this to me: birds are basically dinosaurs that still walk (and fly) the earth, they're chock-full of disease, they're single-minded eating and shitting machines... and then we sit down at our nice patio tables and toss them bits of bread... encouraging them... letting them get closer...

Hey. We were practically begging for it. Just tuppence a bag. And your flesh.

Sarah Palin Week, Part 5

Sarah Palin Week, Part 4

Sarah Palin Week, Part 3

Rick Wright, RIP.

Rick Wright, keyboardist for Pink Floyd, died. That totally blows. He survived the Syd Barret insanity, the commercial highs of Wish You Were Here - Dark Side of the Moon - The Wall, got fired and had to play on contract for The Wall tour, and came back after Roger Waters' ugly split from the band. And in the middle of that, he wrote my single favorite Floyd tune, "The Great Gig in the Sky," from Dark Side. This is the live version from Versailles, 1988.

Sarah Palin Week, Part 2

Welcome To Sarah Palin Week!

C'mon, Sarah. Bring that shit on. Thinks she's the one that killed the "Bridge to Nowhere"? Thinks it's reasonable to pursue the banning of books from libraries based on her own personal squeamishness, and then seeks to fire the librarian who won't make it happen? Thinks she's a more knowledgable person about the facts of life than, oh, geneticists, OB-GYNs, teachers? Thinks she's a fucking poster girl for friends of special needs children while she fights tooth and nail against the research that could make their lives bearable? Lady, I would shred you in an in-person debate while drunk and blindfolded; I hope Joe Biden leaves no evidence you were ever there.



So. Where was I? Oh, yeah: Welcome to Sarah Palin Week!

Bonus Weekend Post for Hannah Rushmore!

Let Us Pray.

I'm not going to lie. I'm pretty friggin' smart. Megan told me so.

I'm also not going to lie when I tell you I have no idea what the shit is going on in Georgia (the sub-Russian one, not the one where I grew up, although that one often confuses me as well) -- after the beat-down last month, they seem to be turning to a Teletubby-based religion.

Dude, I'm just going by what I read. Or rather, what I see in fun, out-of-context pictures.

Ewww... Revisited...

Hey, looks like the Chinese managed to clean up all their waterways in record time in order to accomodate the Olympic aquatic events. I wonder where they put it all?

When in doubt? Outsource to India.

Get Used To It.

Every day, nay, even more often, I read stupid shit from barely-evolved dipshits that makes my political convictions, particularly vis-a-vis the upcoming Presidential election, clearer and firmer. Like transparent aluminum. That's how firm and clear things are.

Naturally, I'll share more as we get closer, and all six of you will no doubt be swayed by my dazzling rhetoric, well-thought-out logic, and pretty pictures. Plus my vulgarity -- never underestimate the power of my vulgarity.

Why is Sarah Palin on the ticket? Because she's in favor of drilling anything that will stand still longer than 2 seconds, and because she's hot. End of story. Now, on to more substantive issues, John.

Got any? Didn't think so.

[Insert Sound Of Open-Mouthed Awestruck Silence]

They're about to start firing up the Super Hadron Collider at CERN, somewhere under the French-Swiss border. Blah, blah, blah -- this thing is amazingly cool, has a perimeter tunnel of 17 miles, and is gonna either blow shit up real good in a controlled environment... or an uncontrolled environment.

Either way.

Cool...

Dear Heisman Voters:

I'm just saying: let's start the consideration.

In Dick Morris' Defense... He *Is* A Dick.

Maybe my most favoritest Daily Show moment in memory. Sometimes, when the ducks line up just right... and they stand so very still... and you and your shotgun are so very close...

Dude, That Don't Make No Sense.

Phenomenal food and music and culture and nightlife and geography and living history, all just 90 miles away from us. Not that we can legally go visit there. Why? I'd love for some dipshit to explain it to me sometime.

In the meantime, our travel boycott has made all the difference in the world in their lives. No, really. That's my serious look. Pfffff.

Ewww.

Yeah, yeah, I know. You come here expecting a certain elevated level of crudity, and sometimes what you get instead are vulgar pedophilia jokes involving the Catholic Church.

Well, to be fair:

1. If you look closely, you can see that the priest is actually Russian Orthodox.

2. You knew how you were dressed when you came to this party. Don't act like you didn't want it.

Don't Worry, The Nasty War Is Over.

If you're wondering why we're so easily able to concentrate on our smashingly-successful war in Iraq, even though all the bad guys ran directly into Afghanistan and stayed there? Don't worry. Big John McCain says that war is over. Pay no attention to the men behind the rocks...

Excuse Me, But What The Fuck?

Jerry Reed died today. Multi-Grammy winning songwriter and *absolutely phenomenal* musician, he was also one of my all-time favorite movie characters, Cledus "Snowman" Snow, the truck-driving sidekick to Burt Reynolds' Bandit. A recent group re-watching of "Smokey and the Bandit" was awesome, as was learning and playing "Westbound and Down" with friends.

Later on, good buddy.

Hey, Remember That Drought?

Yeah, me neither.

oy...

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.