When I was young, we used to watch the Miss America Pageant on TV. Not because we liked it, mind you, but because I’m older than shit and when I grew up we only had six channels of “entertainment”. Let me tell you something: when there’s a dearth of competition like that, there is very little incentive to provide quality programming. I mean, the highlight of the week was Mork & Mindy, and if you were lucky there would be a Battle of the Network Stars on so you could once and for all settle the question: Who would win a kayak race, Jamie Farr or Charo? Continue reading

No post today. It was my youngest son’s 4th birthday, and what with getting up early to let him open presents, a full work day, fucking Peter Piper Pizza, and then cake, I just ran out of time. And when I run out of time, what happens? All together now: “We have to watch traumatizing videos!” Very good, class. Now fucking pay attention:

I tried going to the bank today and was really confused when I pulled on the door and it didn’t open. I went across the street to a convenience store to see if they sold money orders (which is why I was going to the bank in the first place), and when I explained why I was there and that the bank was closed for Columbus Day, the guy at the register said, “Really? That’s still a thing?” which expressed my opinion perfectly. Continue reading

While driving my daughter to an appointment this week, she informed me that someone in her school had been suspended. “What happened was she went into the office for something, and they smelled something on her and opened up her backpack. They found a bag of marijuana and a pipe.” My daughter is twelve. Jesus. At least my wife and I have some experience in this area (ahem), and know what to look for. As I mentioned earlier this week, my parents were totally clueless when it came to drugs. My father was born in 1928 in rural Ontario, and my mom was schooled in a Roman Catholic convent: Drugs were simply not a feature of their environment growing up. To them, drugs were something hippies and gang members abused, not something their long haired, tie-dyed son sitting in the next room, laughing his ass off to Monty Python would be involved with. Continue reading

I am fucking wiped. I started the day needing a jump start because the battery in my Jeep is fucked. This is normal for Arizona. Car batteries usually last no more than two years because of the extreme heat. So you pay twice as much for a car battery for a warranty, it lasts a little under two years, and you get a new one for free. Which is the same in the end as if you just bought a battery when you needed one without a warranty. It makes no sense, like pretty much the entire automotive industry. Continue reading

I heard a Kenny Loggins song today because the radio station that plays in the common areas at my office is run by fucking sadists. Seriously, they play absolute shit even though research has shown a direct correlation between the number of times Fox On The Run plays and the number of people who show up at local emergency rooms with hot pokers jammed in their ears. Continue reading

I might, just because this is probably the most honest car dealership ad I’ve ever seen in my life.

It’s Wednesday night, and I don’t feel like doing shit. This is bad news for my family if the house happens to catch on fire, but good news for you, the reader, because it means I’ll post wacky videos instead of telling you at great length how drunk I used to get in college (very). So without further ado, I give you this crazy bitch:

I’ll be honest with you, I was totally unaware that dick will make you slap somebody. I’ve had a dick my entire life, and I’ve only been slapped once. (I was in a bar and reacted to a Def Leppard song being played by yelling “Def Lefty!”, pulling my left arm out of its shirt sleeve and pretending to play the drums. A girl at the next table jumped up, slapped me, and informed me that her brother had only one arm. I bet that shit never happens to Def Leppard’s drummer.) Continue reading

A while back, I made a strong case for being named the Secretary of Transportation and fuck the current guy, Ray LaHood. That guy probably ass-fucks coma patients for a hobby. Ha ha! I’m just kidding! Of course a person such as Ray LaHood doesn’t fuck coma patients! He’s the head of an important department, a member of the President’s Cabinet, and hob-nobs with Department of Justice people, all of whom could probably arrange to have me set a record for longest prison sentence handed out for committing an act of libel. Ray LaHood is a saint and I’m sure that whatever ass-fucking he does is entirely within legal limits. Continue reading

I rented a safe deposit bank at the bank today, and if there’s a legal way to feel like more of a total badass, I haven’t heard about it. I felt like I was dropping off money to pay for a contract hit, and I think we can all agree that being involved in a contract hit in any fashion is fucking awesome. (Ok, fine, it’s not that fun to be on the receiving end of one, even if it would be nice to know that you meant so much to someone that they tried to have you offed.) Continue reading