Many Ways The Wind Blows

Ay ay ay! Odile no es bueno!

For the second time in ten days, we’ve got a hurricane blowing through town. In Phoenix. In the middle of the desert. What the fuck? Not that I’m complaining, mind you. It’s September, and while the rest of the country has moved on from summer, our daily temperatures are still in the “ball-searing” range, so an overcast day in the low 90’s is a welcome change. We walk around outside, remark on the weather to friends and coworkers, and then we take advantage of the lull to apply another layer of ablative material to our underwear, because by the time the week is over we’ll be back to burning our genitalia on car seats again. Read more »

Rock & Fucking Roll!

This is the line waiting to get in...

A long time ago, I wrote about possible bands that I would like to have play at the first annual Dogs on Drugs Party/Excuse to Abuse Dangerous Drugs in Public. Nudist Priest, Mini-Kiss, and Fat Benetar were all considered, as well as BabyMetal, a Japanese girlpop trio who wants to teach your tweener girls how to motherfucking rawk! But for whatever reason, it never happened. Nudist Priest broke up, one of the dudes in Mini-Kiss died, and as for BabyMetal it turns out that they’re weird in Japan about grown and intoxicated men offering their pubescent girls cash in exchange for coming back to America with them. This, coming from a country that sells used panties in vending machines. (I also learned that they have a different kind of mace in Japan that’s incredibly painful.) So the party didn’t take place. Read more »

Pretty Fly For Some White Guys

Caucasian Heaven

My kids and I played a game of Bounce or Fly after dinner tonight, and each time my eight year old son took his turn kicking, he’d offer me a high five. Jesus, I can’t remember the last time I was involved in something so forced and awkward. The two of us might be the whitest people on the face of the planet. We’re “Shopping At The Gap” White. “Fluffernutter On Wonder Bread” White. How white are we? We’re “Tiger Woods” White. Read more »

Norbert

Norbert, the nerd of hurricanes.

One of the things that I didn’t expect when I moved to Arizona is that from time to time I would have to deal with hurricanes. Hurricane Norbert blew through town yesterday, and let me tell you something: Phoenix is wetter than Rosie O’Donnell in a women’s prison right now. Read more »

And Now, A Word From Sting

Euro-Suckerland!

Hello, my name is Gordon Sumner, or as you have come to know me from my many albums and movies, Sting. I’ve received a fair amount of criticism in the press recently for my decision to charge people 200 Euros a day for the right to gather the harvest on my palatial Tuscan estate, Il Palagio. I understand that at first glance this seems to be the sort of thing you’d expect from your stereotypically self-obsessed and out of touch celebrity, so I wanted to take this opportunity to educate the public because I’m very excited about Il Palagio, and I think that once you understand what it is that we are trying to accomplish, you will be too. Read more »

A Very Loud Conversation

This story is Jeff Goldblum approved

When my youngest son was born, a nurse in the maternity ward did a really odd thing. “Ooh! Someone made a stinky!” she exclaimed, and with expert efficiency, changed my son’s diaper and then weighed it. “Well! You’ve got to be happy about that, dad!” she said to me before rushing out of the room. I’m unsure what she thought it was that would make me happy, the fact that she left, or the fact that a random stranger just weighed my son’s shit. Read more »

Crotch Fruit

A typical, crab-infested produce section

You ever have someone point out something unsettling to you and the very instant you hear it you know that it will stay with you for the rest of your life? That happened to me recently, and I’ve made it my mission in life to scar as many other people with it as possible, and so now you have to read about crotch fruit. You’re welcome. Read more »

Silly Shit That Happened While I Was Gone

Hey, toddlers gotta learn about cockfighting somewhere...

I’ve received more than one inquiry as to where, exactly, I have been the last couple of weeks. “Greg,” these inquiries typically begin, “it should go without saying that if you expect to be paid, you need to actually show up to work on a daily basis. Other things that should go without saying include the fact that you need to be sober, you need to be wearing pants, and that cockfighting is not only frowned upon by HR, but is a violation of federal law.” Jeez, host one drunken, pantsless cockfight at a day care facility and you’re branded for life. Read more »

Doing Something Right

Long time commenter and even longer time friend B’Homey sent me a link recently, which I made the mistake of watching at the office with the sound somewhat turned up. I should know better than that, especially since all the people that sit within 50 feet of me now have HR on speed dial ever since The Incident. (I still don’t think it’s fair that I took the rap for that. It’s not like it was me having a screaming orgasm in that video, and how in the hell was I supposed to know that the woman having the orgasm with all of those longshoremen was the boss’s daughter-in-law?)

So you have been warned. This is totally, 100% safe to watch, but totally, 100% unsafe to listen to without headphones. (This isn’t hosted via YouTube, so it may not be obvious. Click to watch.)

Follow That Car!

Begynnelse til slutt!

When I first moved to the Phoenix area, I devised a unique way of learning my way around town. These days learning a new town isn’t that difficult. You simply ask your smartphone where to go, and it guides you there, turn by turn. I’m pretty sure that this is all part of a sinister plot and one day we will all find ourselves being told to turn left into a giant lava-filled hole, but frankly I’m ok with that just as long as I never have to fold up a fucking road map again. Read more »

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