The first hint that this guy is a few tacos short of a platter? He owns a button with the local weatherman’s face on it.

The first couple of years I attended college, I lived in the dorms. This made for some interesting times, especially since I lived in what was considered an “engineering” dorm, or more simply put, it’s where they stored the dorks on campus. But my friends and I didn’t exactly fit into this mold. A perfect example: In a physics lab, we were supposed to determine the resistance of a component in a black box by conducting some experiments. Several of the people that lived in my floor were in this lab, and they’d been going at it since 1:00 PM and it was now approaching 3:00 when my friend and I rolled in, two hours late and fresh from happy hour, unscrewed the black box and looked inside. “Hey, lookit that! 6 ohms! Let’s write that down and get back to drinking!” Continue reading

Tsutomu Yamaguchi is a lucky man. His employer, Mitsubishi Heavy Industries, sent him on a business trip on August 6th, 1945, to a city that had been little affected by the war raging all across the globe: Hiroshima. Normally, you wouldn’t be considered lucky if your business trip included a weather forecast of “Windy and hot, with a high of 45,000 degrees”, but Mr. Yamaguchi actually survived the blast, suffering “only” ruptured eardrums, temporary blindness, and severe burns to 25% of his body. He spent the night in an air raid shelter and left the next day to return home. To Nagasaki. Once again, Mr. Yamaguchi survived getting nuked, this time with no further injury, but the city’s decimation meant he couldn’t get medical supplies for the first atomic bomb blast he survived in the last three days, and he spent over a week with a dangerously high fever. He recovered, and lived to the age of 93 years old, finally dying in 2010. Continue reading

My well documented fondness for alcohol, especially beer, goes back to when I was two and my father got up from his seat while watching a Cubs game to answer the front door. He came back a couple of minutes later to see me standing there, feet spread wide as if to brace myself for what was to come, a can of Hamm’s in my hand, the bottom pointing straight at the ceiling. I was chugging it. My mom wanted to call poison control immediately. My dad assured her that there wasn’t that much left, and besides, it was only beer. After watching me for an hour, my parents gladly came to the decision that they did not have to take me to the hospital where any future plans of winning Parents of the Year would have been forever dashed: “Our two year old is drunk.” Continue reading

We had a rather boring Sunday at the Dogs on Drugs household today. It was raining and in the mid-40’s, and so since outdoor activities weren’t an option we decided to hit up Target for a few odds and ends, and then the grocery store. So for well over two hours, I sounded like this. “Put that down! Don’t touch! Don’t touch! You are so touching! Stop it! Come here! Get off the floor! Hands in your pockets! You are not just looking, goddamit, you are punching holes in that ground beef with your grubby little thumbs! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? DID SOMEONE GIVE YOU GUYS FUCKING SPEED? SETTLE THE FUCK DOWN!” Continue reading

Screeeeeeam for ribs!

They just don’t make commercials like this any more, because everyone responsible has been committed.

Feel free to represent if you remember this classic Chicago commercial, or post a horrible local ad of your own if you don’t.

I read this morning that Lindsay Lohan hit a man with her car and drove away. The headline made me laugh because it was literally the least surprising headline about Lindsay Lohan anyone could possibly come up with. Frankly, I wouldn’t be too surprised if tomorrow morning I read the headline, “Lindsay Lohan Visits Vatican, Fingers Pope, Huffs Gas With Snooki”. What would surprise me would be the headline, “Lindsay Lohan Gets Bachelor’s Degree”, or “Lindsay Lohan Discovers Higgs Boson”, or even “Lindsay Lohan Counts To Ten”. That bitch is a fucking train wreck. Continue reading

The problem with being an opinionative person is that no one asks you for opinions any more. And why would they? Anyone who knows you knows that it’s only a matter of time before you tell them how you feel about, say, Grape Nuts cereal, and so they can save their breath until you look up from the breakfast table one day and declare that Grape Nuts taste like a homeless guy just shit some kitty litter into a bowl full of gravel. Continue reading

Every March, I roll up my sleeves, get to work, and really put a fucking hurting on my family. I mean, I fucking whomp on ’em. Take no prisoners, give no quarter, and mercy is for the weak, that’s what I say. When I get through destroying my family, they will wish that they had never been born. I’m speaking, of course, about our family NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament pool. This is serious fucking business. Continue reading

My wife and I celebrated her cousin’s birthday on Saturday night by getting totally sideways at the Talking Stick Resort which is an Indian Casino with absolutely insane rules. For instance, they let you bring whatever booze you want down to the pool, which is nice because like all Indian casinos, they charge seven bucks for a beer. But they will not let you bring a beer from your hotel room down to the casino floor, even if it is one that they sold you. Also, they stop serving alcohol at 2:00 AM, which is total bullshit from my point of view, and completely idiotic from theirs. Think of all the moronic bets you’re passing up on, Talking Stick! “Put it all on red-36. Yes, even the children!” Continue reading