Up My Own Ass

After much deliberation, the Country Music Association has decided that the show must go on. Despite the tragedy of Barack Obama’s victory in last week’s presidential election, the CMA Awards will go on as planned on November 12.

American Idol minx Carrie Underwood, and a piece of paisley fabric apparently, will host the awards that will take place probably in Nashville or some similar place.

The show will be highlighted by numerous moments of silence and an appearance from Lord and Lady Antebellum of Jesusland.

Meanwhile, after threatening to move to Canada, of all places, during the Bush administration, Democrats are now planning to rename America “Utopia” after the Great Barack Obama’s presidential miracle.

“Do you believe?” fans ask each other rhetorically while high-fiving and organizing communities.

Experts say that during the Obama administration food will taste better, air will be sweeter, and unicorns and mermaids will dance in the streets. Already on the president’s agenda: world peace, curing cancer, and helping the Cubs win the World Series next year.

There is utter joy in Obamanation. Some might call it gittiness. Bliss. Euphoria. Gaiety. Glee. Jollity. Jubilation. I love online thesauruses!

The following are actual statuses posted by some of my writer friends on Facebook. The names have been changed to protect the usually intelligent, but occasionally daffy:

*Sillygoose McGetoutoftown is giving Zeek (the 9-year-old) Wednesday’s front page to hang in his room.

*Tedium Sleeperhold is looking forward to our president-elect’s press conference today like he looks forward to Christmas and glazed donuts.

*Tickle Me Mussolini gets all warm and tingly when she hears the words “President Obama.”

*Waa-Waa O’Crybaby cried at Obama’s words. Thank God for Obama.

*Bob Smith is WOOOOHOOOO WOOOOHOOOO WOOOHOOO.

*George “the Animal” Steele One of the best moments of my life was telling my son this morning about the newly elected president.

In the words of some of the characters on that stupid Grey’s Anatomy show, “Seriously?”

“Seriously!?!”

Then you even have all the cute ones who put Hussein in between their name, even though it’s completely against Facebook policy. I guess all of our middle names are Hussein now. That’s what the ‘H’ in Jesus H. Christ stands for.

I’d like to believe that Barack Obama walks on water, but I can’t help but think that these delirious little children are going to be disappointed when they find out the man is merely a politician. Just a dude who successfully used the Senate as a springboard to becoming Commander in Chief. No different than any other.

Is the taste left in the mouths of the “Bush is Hitler” types from that administration so bad that many of us are clinging to the Barack as savior dream? I never liked or voted for Bush, and I don’t want to understate the importance of the first half-Kenyan president. I mean, we’ve still only had one of those nasty Catholics in the White House. This is like when a non-Kenyan wins the Boston Marathon. But, jeezy creezy, let’s keep our perspective here. Christmas? The tinglies? Tears and donuts? “One of the best moments of my life?”

Let’s gain our composure. We are not Dorothy going from the tornado to Munchkinland. We are not living in a magical fantasy world. This man is a president. Like Carter, Garfield and Zachary Taylor. All the ones we make fun of now. Sure, he beat a war hero and an Alaskan hayseed, and now we have the “End of an Error,” and all that other horseshit, but let’s snap out of it.

I don’t care much for these highs and lows, good guys and bad guys, in American politics.

It’s like the Honky Tonk Man had the belt for eight years and now the Ultimate Warrior beat him for it and everyone’s throwing chairs into the ring in mad, mob-like celebration.

Might as well have Kool and the Gang follow Obama around and play that stupid song. We need 90s motivational speaker extraordinaire Susan Powter now more than ever to demand that we “Stop the insanity!”

Or not. What do I care? Now that I’ve finished with four wonderful 80s and 90s references, celebrate in smug happiness and joy all you want.

This is not an article about Cameron Diaz.  I just couldn’t really post any of the images that Google was suggesting for the word “chode.”  I decided that since I think Cameron Diaz is the nastiest, skankiest, infection-filled twat in current pop culture, I would use HER image as the tie-in photo, but I digress.

Let’s play musical chodes!

Okay, here’s the object of the game:  to think of as many song titles that have the word “heart” in them as you can, and replace that word with “chode.”  (The word “clunge” is also a permissible substitution)

Here are some examples:

1.  My Chode Will Go On

2.  I’ve Got a Hole In My Chode That Goes All the Way to China

3.  Young Chodes, Run Free

4.  Tearin’ Up My Chode

5.  Harden My Chode

You get the idea.  This game was born of an overnight shift at AOL, back in the DAY.  It may not sound like much, but as of this post, you will not be able to get it out of your head, and you will refer to it EVERY TIME you hear a song title or lyric that has the word “heart.”

It is both a blessing and a curse.  Enjoy!

… be sure to read Part 1 and Part 2.

Like Casey Kasem and every stupid magazine and Internet site on the planet, we’ve been doing a little countdown here. A Top 15, because I shant be contained by the number 10, and 20 is just too crazy. I mean, who am I? Dr. Demento?

But now we’ve reached the Top 5. The ladies I forgot all about once I met my wife. The ones who marked my insanity from the ages of 12 all the way up to 27. The greats, the beauties, the Top 5 birds on my own ridiculous all-time list. And they are…

5. Melissa Reeves

Thanks to my mom, I was raised on the soap opera Days of Our Lives. Summers were always about The Price is Right, the noon news and lunch, followed by a young Tom Bergeron and his local program People Are Talking, then Days, or DOOL, as uber fans call it. I was probably but a wee lad of 11 when I began seriously getting into the show, and that was precisely the year that Melissa Brennan, later Melissa Reeves, debuted on the show at age 18.

There were other dolls on this famous serial: Mary Beth Evans as Kayla Brady; Tracy Middendorf, and then Christie Clark as Carrie Brady; heartthrob quarterback Tom Brady. And Stefano DiMera? A sexier villain there never was!

But who cared about these seemingly countless other characters when there was young (or to me old, but not like some of the others on this list) Jennifer Horton. I remember being in college and scheduling my classes around DOOL, like so many other schoolgirls did.

Then, in 1995, tragedy struck when Melissa abruptly left the show and was replaced by some woman named Stephanie Cameron. “Whore!” I screamed. Who the hell was SHE to play the part of Jennifer Horton Devereuax? I toiled for five years watching this pretender play the part only my Missy could play. Joy and bliss ruled once again in 2000 when Melissa returned. By the time she left the show again in 2006, I had long since stopped watching this horse shit.

4. Devon/Devin

While Tiffany Mynx was my first love in the world of the pornographic features, Devon was the ultimate starlet. Who cares if a gal has had her tits and most of her face done? Hot is hot, and Devon, the former Vivid girl (you might call her a “porn star”), is hot.

Born Kristie Maria Lisa in Allentown, PA (made famous by Billy Joel with that wonderful tune, appropriately titled “Allentown”) on March 28, 1977, this former Penthouse pet got her start in the world of pornography in 1998. When I saw her on the ole Howard Stern Show, back when I listened to and watched that crap, I fell in love. So, of course, I had to have all her films, this fine young actress. That’s right. I purchased pornography once upon a time. Film with titles such as Where the Boys Aren’t 13, Asstroids, and Pussy Grinders.

Devon, now 31, left Vivid apparently in 2006 and now works for Shane’s World. Good girl. Keep it up!

3. Jennifer Love Hewitt

I have a very good friend who places this gal somewhere between Janet Reno and Lassie in the looks department. He enjoys e-mailing me photos of Ms. Hewitt with penises cleverly Photoshopped on her, along with other nasty items. The bastard.

Wikipedia refers to Love as “an American actress and singer-songwriter.” Yeah, she’s Joni Frigging Mitchell. This young Waco, TX gal got her start on the ingenious television program Kids Incorporated. “K! I! D! S!”

After a few unsuccessful television programs and an adorable little film called Little Miss Millions, she hit it big by landing the role of Sarah Reeves on the tragicomedy Party of Five. She also starred in the abysmal POF spin-off Time of Your Life. This was a horrendous show, but it featured both Hewitt and Jennifer Garner as roommates, so you bet I was watching every damn episode. Problem was, it was basically about nothing, which is fine for comedies like Seinfeld, but the definition of drama is that something has to happen!

Love’s film career went from I Know What You Did Last Summer to a bunch of movies no one has ever heard of, but lucky for her this Ghost Whisperer show is something of a hit. And just look at that Maxim photo, eh?

2. Juliana Hatfield

There were many 90s alternative rock goddesses in my life: from Veruca Salt’s Nina Gordon and Louise Post to Letters to Cleo’s Kay Hanley to Garbage’s Shirley Manson. But none of them could compare to the incomparable singer-songwriter Juliana Hatfield.

From beautiful Duxbury, Mass, the lovely Miss Hatfield got her start with the indie rock band Blake Babies. They produced some fantastic albums such as “Earwig” and “Sunburn,” but soon Juliana went solo, like George Michael and Squeaky Fromme. In 1992 she released “Hey Babe,” then followed it up with “Become What You Are” which produced the hit singles, “My Sister” and “Spin the Bottle.” And Jules was a star! Like Madonna or Lizzie Borden!

I first saw Hatfield on Conan O’Brien, swooned like a little girl, and told my girlfriend I was leaving her, to which she replied she was not my girlfriend, but my History professor and my paper on the American Revolution was long overdue.

Anyway, after these two still-awesome solo albums, Juliana steadily started to fall downhill musically, in my opinion. Nonetheless, in 2000, on her tour of every Newbury Comics store in New England, I met this lovely gal - twice in one day, like a stalker, and managed to spit out the words, “Hi,” and “Thanks.” What wit! What charm!

Over time I’ve collected about 30 CDs, a half dozen bootleg videos, several posters, T-shirts, and live concert memories of Juliana. But, due to the terms of the restraining order, I was forced to move from Massachusetts to Arizona, which makes little sense to me, as she does most of her work these days in Los Angeles.

1. Calista Flockhart

Here she is, ladies and gentlemen! You might know her as the anorexic stick figure married to old man Han Solo and currently playing Laura Ingraham on some show with Sally Field. But when this boy saw the movie The Birdcage, amid all the laughing I was doing, I again fell completely in love. For the part of Barbara Keeley was being played by the most beautiful woman I had seen up to that time. “And what a lovely name!” I said when I watched the credits. And then, the following September, Ally McBeal premiered. Holy shit! I skipped WRESTLING on Monday nights to watch that beautiful program. Not since the days of Kate & Allie did I do that!

To give you an idea of how crazy in love I was, I wrote a wonderful short story, titled, “Calista Flockhart and the MySpace Hoax.” The part about Calista in the story - that was me. I was that insane. I once bought a T-shirt on eBay with Flockhart’s picture on it. I should have been put in a straight jacket.

Eventually Ms. Flockhart got thinner and thinner, and Ally started sucking, and now I couldn’t give a shit about her and don’t watch that awful siblings show she’s in. But back then, my God was I smitten!

So there you have it. Point at me and laugh.

This past Thursday Scarlett Johansson attended…

… attended a Michael J. MAMMARY GLANDS Fox foundation benefit for AIDS, ugly children, turkey sandwiches, gardening convention, Parkinson’s disease.

Scarlett “Big Red” Giant CHEST PLAYGROUND wore a dress to the event, although for the first half of the night no one noticed. It wasn’t until 11:30 that anyone noticed she had even arrived, finally looking up long enough to her face to identify her.

When reporters asked Fox what he thought about Johansson attending his event in support of finding a disease for Parkinson’s, Fox had this to say:

moooooooooooooooooooooooooo *heavy panting*

and then promptly got up and did the old-town soft-shoe for everyone, proving once again that with the proper motivation, your mind can cure anything.

When word got out of the breakthrough Fox had at his own benefit due to MOON CANNONS Johansson’s motivating presence, invitations were shot out to the Hollywood starlet to everything from “Save the Whales” to “Save my Pants… with Your Hands!”. Albeit that the last invitation was from me, but I’m trying to save stuff just as important as Fox.

Let’s face it, when you have these:

people are going to want to ask you to save stuff… save lots of stuff… save stuff that might not even need saving, maybe just… “mild attention”… save stuff that you tucked away for safe keeping even… stuff that was tucked away in your pockets maybe…

<Does anyone see where I’m going with this?>

… save important stuff that some folks might have forgotten about…

<HINT: I’m alluding to my pants and all that they contain.>

… save something that maybe isn’t appropriate to leave out while shopping or helping out at a soup kitchen, but non-the-less still needs attention from time to time…

<HINT: My penis… I’m talking about my penis.>

… save som… oh, looks like I gave it away already. Ahh well, then you get the idea.

Thanks The Superficial!

In a move that I can only assume was done to try and compete with me on a direct level of awesome, UK teenager George Garratt has legally changed his name to:

Captain Fantastic Faster Than Superman Spiderman Batman Wolverine The Hulk And The Flash Combined.

Yep… that whole thing is his name, people just call him “Captain” now apparently… which is more awesome than my name. Even if I changed my name legally to “Captain” my family and friends would probably just end up calling me “duck-shit” or “hymen-face”.

Apparently it seems like “Captain” here has a bit of a crazy streak, so this was no surprise to his parents:

I decided on a superheroes theme and whenever my friends offered up suggestions to me, I added them

…

My family have begun to expect these sorts of things from me, and although my friends thought it was ridiculous most people do call me Captain and it’s been a great conversation starter.

I may not have been surprised by it if my kid did this, but I’d still make him clean out the lawnmower while it was running *humph*

Thanks BBC!

… be sure to read Part 1.

As I pushed our belongings down the halls of St. Joseph’s Hospital, I inexplicably pretended I was in the film Splash, me being Tom Hanks or Eugene Levy trying to sneak Daryl Hannah out.

Mind you, this was when I was actually preparing for my wife Amy and I to bring our new li’l baby home. What is wrong with me? I thought. This was not 48 hours after I was shouting at an in-labor Amy, “You’re gonna be okay!” like Harvey Keitel does to Tim Roth in Reservoir Dogs after he was shot. I also couldn’t get a certain passage from Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life out of my head:

Hospital Administrator: And what are you doing this morning?
Obstetrician: It’s a birth.
Hospital Administrator: Ah. And what sort of thing is that?
Dr. Spenser: Well, that’s where we take a new baby out of a lady’s tummy.
Hospital Administrator: Wonderful what we can do nowadays.

But Amy and I had our baby boy and I continued to think of the girls I might have wedded and had children with if my life as a celebrity stalker had ever truly taken shape.

That said, here are numbers 10 through 6 on our countdown.

10. Dinah Manoff

Yes, at one time, when I was in high school, I was madly in love with the daughter of legendary actress Lee Grant and one of the stars of the hit situation comedy Empty Nest.

While many favored lesbian and nutjob Kristy McNichol, it was sweet Dinah for me. I actually had a bunch of episodes of this miserable sitcom on tape for a while to enjoy over and over again. Anyone know the theme song? No? Good.

Dinah made many other TV appearances, including starring with Nell Carter in the 1992 TV movie, “Maid for Each Other.”

Get it?

They were maids…

9. Christine McVie

In another instance of passionate love for a woman older than my mother, I was a huge Fleetwood Mac fan at one point. But to hell with Stevie Nicks. I had it bad for John McVie’s ex-wife.

As a young high school boy, I didn’t as much go for the 1970s Christine. Present-day, menopausal McVie was what I wanted, as she sang like an angel on hit songs like “Little Lies” and “Everywhere.” She can collect social security now. I’ll bet you thought this list was gonna be hot, huh?

8. Debra “Madusa” Miceli

In the late 80s a beautiful, yet kick ass, lady appeared on the pro wrestling scene. Her name was Madusa Miceli and when the American Wrestling Association couldn’t contain her, she went to Ted Turner‘s World Championship Wrestling, ’cause that’s what super bad ass Italian babes do.

In WCW she went only as Madusa and won a famous bikini contest against Missy Hyatt due to the “heel” judging of Jesse “the Body” Ventura. She jumped to the WWF in 1993, taking the name Alundra Blayze, then went back to WCW, even throwing the WWF Women’s Title in the trash on live television. Today, she’s one up on former wrestling valets Sensational Sherri and Miss Elizabeth in that Madusa is still alive.

7. Valerie Bertinelli

Former Mrs. Eddie Van Halen, now a shill for Jennie Craig, Valerie was the beautiful and non-drugged out daughter on One Day at a Time. I would follow her like a dog through her horrible late 80s sitcom Syndey, which also starred Daniel Baldwin and a young Matthew Perry, and the equally bad early 90s comedy Cafe American.

Picture The Mary Tyler Moore Show in France, only completely shitty and unwatchable. By far my favorite Valerie film was the 1981 Comedy/Drama The Princess and the Cabbie, about a young woman (Valerie) who works to overcome her dyslexia with the help of a good-hearted cab driver (Robert Desiderio). She was absolutely adorable in that silly-ass flick, which also featured a pre-Cheers Shelley Long. Wolfgang’s mom has got it goin’ on.

6. Audrey Hepburn

This Academy-award winning Anglo-Dutch actress overcame growing up under Nazi rule to become one of the greats in all of motion pictures. The star of such films as Roman Holiday, Sabrina, and Breakfast at Tiffany’s, in her later years she was a UNICEF Goodwill Ambassador and still pretty darn hot (Hey, if I had it for 40-year-olds, why not 60?).

As a closing, I’d like to share with you an example of my infatuations with both Hepburn and our number 13 gal, Sylvia Plath. This is from a fictional Christmas piece I penned a while back:

…When we got Mom back in the house she broke down. Rebecca and I started crying too. She told everyone her marriage was over and that they should all just leave. No one wanted to go; they wanted to help her. But Mom was adamant and the family soon started exiting until a familiar face entered the house. It was my grandfather, who looked quite well, despite being dead for twelve years. Everyone was delighted especially to see that he had brought a date, as he simply glowed walking in arm-in-arm with Audrey Hepburn, and not the elderly, charitable Ms. Hepburn, but the elegant, early fifties Audrey. Grandpa always did like them young, from his parties with Roman Polanski to his kidnapping of the Lindbergh baby. This was his first date since Grandma Sylvia Plathed herself Easter Sunday twenty years before…

Until Part 3…

Whether its Cheryl Tiegs, Lillian Gish or Sharon Tate after the murders, every young boy has a handful of starlets he’s pretty keen on, dames with stems for miles or huge gazoongas.

He may write this gal a fan letter; he may write her a poem. He may Rebecca Schaeffer her right on her own front porch. Who knows? Life is silly.

In honor of lists, and the ladies who once served as my own Farrah Fawcett posteresque pseudo-fantasies dating back to my little league days, I’ve compiled a list of 15 such broads. Whether it was the twins from the series Double Trouble, teen singing sensation Debbie Gibson, or DIRECTV pitch girl Heather O’Rourke, they all meant something.

Wow. Three dead celebrity references in one intro. Am I that much of a morbid hack? Anyway…

15.  Steffi Graf/Oksana Baiul

Isn’t it lame when the first one’s a tie so they can sneak another entry in? Well, we’ll now call this the Sweet 16.

The former here probably sounds a little like bestiality, and the latter like I’m a pedophile, but my oh-so-brief stints as fans of their respective sports was due to these lovely gals. Graf, the half-brother of late Police Academy star David Graf, cleaned up nicely back in the day, and Baiul was an adorable 16-year-old Ukraine chick who made everyone forget about Tonya Harding and Nancy Kerrigan at the 1994 Winter Olympics. This makes her only three and a half years younger than me. So shut up.

By the time Anna Kournikova and Maria Sharpova showed up, I couldn’t have cared less about tennis. As for figure skating, that Sasha Cohen is a cute one, especially in that Borat movie.

Where are they now? - No idea.

14.  Ellen DeGeneres

This was to a much lesser extent than any of the others on this list. But, just as I do today with the likes of Sarah Silverman, Tina Fey and Nikki Glaser, I loved funny women who are also a bit cute. Creepy as it sounds, I was probably the first Ellen fan. This was when she was on a FOX sitcom called Open House and had her first half-hour HBO One Night Stand. She was kind of attractive back then. She was! And very funny. Seriously!

Where are they now? - Read a magazine, for Pete’s sake

13.  Sylvia Plath

Okay, now we’re getting somewhere. Poetess, author, and a verb for shoving your head in an oven, Sylvia, born in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, was every boy’s dream: smart, beautiful, and out of her freaking mind.

Yes, in my dark period I was obsessed with Ms. Plath. Some might say I still am. Her awesome, and only, novel “The Bell Jar” was made into a movie in the late 70s, and the lovely Gwenyth Paltrow played her in a biopic, aptly titled Sylvia. She’s number 13 because women married to Ted Hughes found out just how unlucky he was, as Ted’s second wife also killed herself in 1968.

Where are they now? - Still dead

12.  Elizabeth Montgomery

Tell me Jeannie was sexier and I’ll tear your arm off.

Star of one of the greatest situation comedies of all time, Bewitched, Lizzie was every man’s dream: smart, sexy, and a frigging witch. A young Liz made numerous TV appearances prior to this classic, including “Alfred Hitchcock Presents,” “The Untouchables,” and “The Twilight Zone.” She would later star as Lizzie Borden in “The Legend of Lizzie Borden.”

Where are they now? - Also still dead

11.  Dian Parkinson

When I was a mere pre-teen I would watch “The Price is Right” every day during school vacation. Mommy thought it was because I loved Plinko or watching a yodeling mountaineer fall off a cliff.

No, it was Dian.

A full six years older than my own mother, Dian was the sexy “Price is Right” goer who went on to appear in Playboy and sue Bob Barker for sexual harrassment, prompting many a hack comedian to go to the “spayed or neutered” joke.

Where are they now? - Who cares?

If this list isn’t complete shite so far, stay tuned for Parts 2 and 3, and the Top 10 coming soon…

The picture in the previous post made me remember one of my favorite things that I once found circulating the internet.  Maybe it came from PETA, I’m not sure, but here it is for everyone to fondly recall:

I like monkeys.

The pet store was selling them for five cents a piece.  I thought that
odd since they were normally a couple thousand each.  I decided not to
look a gift horse in the mouth.  I bought 200.  I like monkeys.

I took my 200 monkeys home.  I have a big car.  I let one drive.  His
name was Sigmund.  He was retarded.  In fact, none of them were really
bright.  They kept punching themselves in their genitals.  I laughed.
Then they punched my genitals.  I stopped laughing.

I herded them into my room.  They didn’t adapt very well to their new
environment.  They would screech, hurl themselves off of the couch at
high speeds and slam into the wall.  Although humorous at first, the
spectacle lost its novelty halfway into its third hour.

Two hours later I found out why all the monkeys were so inexpensive:
they all died.  No apparent reason.  They all just sorta’ dropped dead.
Kinda’ like when you buy a goldfish and it dies five hours later.  Damn
cheap monkeys.

I didn’t know what to do.  There were 200 dead monkeys lying all over my
room, on the bed, in the dresser, hanging from my bookcase. It looked
like I had 200 throw rugs.

I tried to flush one down the toilet.  It didn’t work.  It got stuck.
Then I had one dead, wet monkey and 199 dead, dry monkeys.

I tried pretending that they were just stuffed animals.  That worked for
a while, that is until they began to decompose.  It started to smell real
bad.

I had to pee but there was a dead monkey in the toilet and I didn’t want
to call the plumber.  I was embarrassed.

I tried to slow down the decomposition by freezing them.  Unfortunately
there was only enough room for two monkeys at a time so I had to change
them every 30 seconds.  I also had to eat all the food in the freezer so
it didn’t all go bad.

I tried burning them.  Little did I know my bed was flammable.  I had to
extinguish the fire.

Then I had one dead, wet monkey in my toilet, two dead, frozen monkeys in
my freezer, and 197 dead, charred monkeys in a pile on my bed.  The odor
wasn’t improving.

I became agitated at my inability to dispose of my monkeys and to use the
bathroom.  I severely beat one of my monkeys.  I felt better.

I tried throwing them way but the garbage man said that the city wasn’t
allowed to dispose of charred primates.  I told him that I had a wet
one.  He couldn’t take that one either.  I didn’t bother asking about the
frozen ones.

I finally arrived at a solution.  I gave them out as Christmas gifts.  My
friends didn’t know quite what to say.  They pretended that they like
them but I could tell they were lying.  Ingrates.  So I punched them in
the genitals.

I like monkeys

So, I write sometimes for this website that shall not be named, for this editor who shall not be named, right?

I try to contribute to said Editor things that I find amusing that I come across in my daily porn searches facebook stalkings hours I devote to looking for ways to donate money to adorable orphaned children and baby seals and be a good wife and mother while I cook the seven course meal and chill the beer.

Usually, said Editor is pretty on the ball with his sense of humor. But sometimes, just sometimes, he shows his true colors as a boss. You know, slow-witted with no sense of humor poor communication and just all around doesn’t get it awesome.

Well I originally wanted to post this picture and it was going to say:

“Before You Cast Your Faith-Based Vote”

I’m just sayin…. God sends little messages everywhere.

…And it was going to be awesome. But now, literally 13 EMAILS later…this is the debacle that ensued from such a simple (and *I* thought…extremely straightforward) funny picture.

(These are the actual emails)

Editor at 4:46pm

G, I didn’t get the “faith base vote” picture, I saw the ring, but it was on his right hand, and other than that I wasn’t sure what was funny about it?

G at 8:15pm <thinking to self “Oh shit, Editor despite all the boobsboobsboobs on the site is actually a devout Catholic”>

uh oh… hope I didn’t step on political toes with you…
the joke was check out behind his head

G at 8:16pm <only mildly freaking out, wondering how deep the Pope-loving rabbit hole goes>

err not political toes, I guess they’d be religious ones.
Sorry if I did.

G at 8:17pm <definitely freaking out as she decides to not find that funny, you have to be fire and brimstone and whip yourself every night for your sins and now he’s going to have the hand of God smite her>

we can skip that one, I don’t want to piss anyone off. Now that I think about it, if the COUNTY FAIR can offend people…

Editor at 8:05am

G, no offense taken, I just didn’t get the joke. I don’t know who that guy is behind the pope and I’m guessing that’s the lynchpin for the funny picture? Who is he/why is it funny?

P.S.> I’m not religious or particularly political. I think Zeigeist: The Movie would be a good indication of what my take on the world is.

G at 9:12am

lol oh Editor. Normally I think you’re pretty sharp. HE’S GOT HORNS!!!!!

HE’S GOT!!! HORNS!!!!

the guy behind him, his shirt collar makes it look like he has HORNS!!! Not to mention the evil look on his face.
sheesh!

Editor at 9:14am

oh wow… <fills up bathtub so he can drown himself in it>

Soooo…forget my original posting; if not because it was too controversial, definitely because I can never look at it the same. But, I suppose it’s still funny, in its own special way.

Kind of like a Pope with horns.

LOL@McCain has put together some of the better LOL-cat-style mockups of shots from the debates online… and I enjoyed a good portion of them (not because of a preference for or against McCain, just cause they were pretty damn funny).

Actually a lot of the best ones were about Palin, here’s a sampling, but be sure to check out the full page:

I don’t normally pimp shows or even particular episodes of shows… but this particular episode of Family Guy (from Sunday, November 2nd, 2008) is just awesome. You should watch it:

Update #1: If you are like me and really liked that song in the background while Peter is defending himself to Louis in the train station and then Chris claps and says “Yay, movie references”, it’s called “Power to Believe” and it’s by The Dream Academy which is from the Planes, Trains and Automobiles movie soundtrack.

Although I got the song… and I’ll admit, the non-vocal version that was behind what Peter was saying was a lot better than the one on the sound track… I don’t really like the interruption of the vocals.

… and even if it *does*, that doesn’t mean it *should*.

My roommate was trying to make the case for chicken and waffles the other day. If you haven’t heard of this combination, you’re not the first. But it’s true, some people eat chicken and waffles - yes, together - and those who like it, swear by it.

My contention isn’t so much with her food coupling (don’t knock it til you try it and all that hippie nonsense), but with her logic. “You like chicken, you like waffles,” she said. “You like chicken and waffles!”

No, roommate. No.

Take for example, this story. Granted, I like mice. And I like hot dog buns. But do you want to tell me that’s still a logical argument?

Ok then. Didn’t think so.

Break it Down Blog did a piece early this year called “There Are No Ugly Women” and then pointed at 9 before-and-after shots of contestants from the show The Swan.

The results are incredible.

Every woman that started off as “unhelp-able” in my limited capacity to judge this type of stuff, ended up looking at least “beautiful” and at most “hot” by the time the show was done with them.

This brings me to the recent snaps of European super model Kate Moss at Halloween:

It is pretty incredible what some makeup, a cute outfit and a damn good photographer can do for you. Consider a typical Kate Moss shot:

… quite a bit of difference some airbrushing can make, no?

So next time you look in the mirror and get critical of yourself, cut yourself some slack… no one looks like this*

* I do sometimes, but don’t beat yourself up… it is abnormal how good-looking I am. I’ve actually killed elderly people that have caught a sideways glance at me without proper preparation.

It’s Monday again, and in the spirit of Motivational Posters, we are here to help you out:

It’s already been a long week and it’s only Sunday.

I just got off the phone with a woman who wants to book a cruise and swears up and down that she sailed out of Nashville last year on her vacation and she wants to speak with my supervisor because I am being “unhelpful and ignorant” because I won’t book her out of Nashville to sail to the Caribbean… like she did last year.

Just to clarify the conundrum here for folks that aren’t from the US, Nashville, TN is located just east of the center of the US, it’s no where near any coast so “sailing out of Nashville” is impossible… unless by “sail” she meant “fly a plane”:

And well she did it last year, so why won’t I just help her proper and book her out of Nashville again. I don’t know about you, but I need some nonsense that doesn’t make sense on purpose.

Monkeys! Monkeys always help.

And sharks from China…

I’m feeling better already.

John McCain Accidentally Left on the Campaign Bus Overnight

Cindy McCain Claims She’s “Just Like Any Other Female Human”

Thanks goes to Preston Lee for sending these in.