Some time back, I advocated firing David Lee Roth into the interior of the sun. That was wrong, and I would like to take this time to apologize to David Lee Roth for that post. Mr. Lee Roth, I formally apologize. Not because you don’t deserve to be shot directly into the heart of the sun, because quite clearly you do. If I mated Fran Drescher with 47 bagpipes and had the offspring host American Idol with a 90 minute cameo by Creed, it would still somehow be less annoying than anything that you have ever done in your life. No, I’d like to apologize because your seat on that rocket rightfully belongs to Miley Cyrus. Continue reading

Today, at the office, in a stunning display of athleticism and physical prowess that would have made my 4 year old proud, I managed to spill an entire bowl of chicken soup on myself, soaking my clothes from my shoulder down to my knee. I was eating lunch at my desk when this happened, so I’m officially calling it a failed attempt at multi-tasking. Unfortunately, the soup was no longer hot so I don’t get to sit at home, surfing the internet and sending prank emails to elected officials while I collect on the stupidest worker compensation claim of all time. Dammit. Continue reading

I took my boys to some archaeological ruins this weekend, the theory being that if the place was already ruined, I wouldn’t have to worry about my kids fucking it up. As it turns out, archaeological ruins are incredibly delicate, which makes sense because that’s probably how they got ruined in the first place. We were in the parking lot when I stopped and read a very important sign to the boys. “Hey, guys, look at this sign: ‘No standing’ on the walls of the ruins.” Anyone who has young boys knows that I read these words to two giggling boys who were tightrope-walking the ruins, kicking priceless clods of history onto the dirt below. Continue reading

My 7 year old son has always been oddly interested in college, specifically about where he is going to live when he attends. “I can still live with you, right?”, he asks, with a hint of panic in his voice. I try to explain to him that by the time he turns 18, he will be absolutely dying to move out on his own but he’s not buying it. “Who will make me waffles?” Continue reading

You ever have one of those days when you realize that pretty much every aspect of your life has really good parts balanced against really shitty parts? That’s how I felt today. I was like Woody Allen on Ecstasy: I didn’t know how to feel. And for whatever reason, I couldn’t stop thinking about that and totally blew off thinking about what to write about for this very post. (Long time readers know that this means that there will be a monumentally fucked up/bizarro video following shortly, and they are right.) Continue reading

Another day, another headline about gunplay in an elementary school. In this case, it was an AK-47 wielding man who fired off a bunch of rounds because, yeah, that makes total sense. “God damn Obama! My taxes are too fucking high! I can’t get a job! And the Bilderberg Group secretly controls women, so I can’t get a hand job! I’ma murder me some motherfuckin’ toddlers!” Seriously, what the fucking fuck, people? I can’t say that there’s a preferred group of people to shoot in a maniacal rampage, but I’m pretty fucking certain children aren’t in that group. Get a fucking grip, or barring that, just go play with a toaster in the bathtub, asshole. Continue reading

One of the great things about the internet is that it gives you access to strange headlines from around the world. I grew up in a rural suburb of Chicago, so I was limited to the headlines from my local newspaper (“Nothing is happening”), Chicago’s newspaper (“Voter turnout high in cemeteries”), and occasionally we’d get a glimpse of Milwaukee’s newspaper (“Sausage Good!”). Now, with the advent of the internet, I can learn, with one click of a mouse, that people are avoiding forced marriages by jamming cutlery in their underwear: Spoon in underwear saving youths from forced marriage. Continue reading

I was putting some gas in my Jeep this afternoon, when a man at the next pump approached and asked me for directions to a well known road in the area. We then proceeded to get into an argument after I provided him with simple, easy to understand directions and he insisted that I was wrong. I even pulled up the directions on my iPhone, and he still insisted that I was wrong. “You’re no help at all,” he said as he turned away. “Thanks a lot.” Continue reading

Are you lonely? Is there an empty void in your life that can only be filled by enslaving small woodland creatures? Have multiple lobotomies left you incapable of performing even the most basic of pet maintenance tasks? Have you been consuming lead paint chips like fucking Doritos your entire life? If you answered “Yes” to any of those questions, you’re probably going to want to start masturbating furiously because I have the answer to all of your problems: The Perfect Polly Pet!

Now, I know what you’re thinking: You’re thinking, “But Greg, I’ve been burned by pet substitutes before!” Hahaha, you asshole! How fucking stupid can you be? Wait, don’t answer that question because I could give a shit what you have to say: You’re not even a pet owner! Continue reading

The staff at my doctor’s office has terrible bedside manners. They’re not quite at the point where they poke at open wounds with unwashed hands and laugh, but certainly they could brush up on a few basic healthcare provider tips. If Hippocrates said “First, do no harm,” I’m pretty sure he followed it up with something like, “Sixth, don’t freak your patients out for shits and grins.” And then he fondled a ten year old, because the ancient Greeks were a bunch of serious deves. Continue reading