A few weeks ago, I made fun of Kenny Loggins, the Urkel of Rock and Roll. He richly deserved this, of course, as anyone who actually sat through “Whenever I Call You Friend” can attest. In fact, he won an accompanying poll which pitted him against eight (count ’em, eight!) of the lamest acts imaginable. It says something about you when you out-lame Boz Skaggs, or at least it should. Not that I want anything bad to happen to Kenny Loggins, but when he passes on his headstone should read “Kenny Loggins, lamer than Boz Skaggs” and it should dispense coupons to visitors for 1% off of their next meal at Sizzler. Continue reading

I’m busy tonight because I’m making chili, which is our traditional meal for Halloween. Yeah, who am I fucking kidding, the traditional meal in our household is six pounds of semi-melted candy. But we make the chili anyway, and my wife and I eat it, even if the kids don’t. My killer chili recipe calls for 7 weird ass peppers, beer, coffee (really), 8 pounds of chuck roast, three million other ingredients and is so complicated that you need to have a PhD in physics to do it correctly. Plus, it takes 8 hours to cook. Think I’m going to do that the night before? If you said, “Fuck and No!” then you win a prize: A bowl of turkey chili, which only takes about 90 minutes. Continue reading

Anyone who knows me knows that I’ve got a thing for fucking with people semi-anonymously. Whether it’s over the phone, via email, or via offensive skywriting, if I feel that someone needs to be fucked with you can rest assured that I will do it. One time, in high school, a friend and I spent an entire afternoon getting baked and writing Dear Abby letters that were serious enough to be published, but silly enough that they provided our friends entertainment in the Chicago Tribune for months. That’s how I roll. Continue reading

I noticed today that I had an awful lot of internet traffic the last couple of days. Five times as much, in fact, which was baffling because usually I have to violate some pretty major laws in order to get that much attention, and as far as I know I haven’t done anything like that in over a week. So I headed over to my Google Analytics site to see what’s what, and discovered that over 73% of my traffic the last couple of days was generated from a Google search on the phrase “God of the internet”. Really. All I can say is that it is about fucking time I got some goddamn recognition around here. You may now all bow before me. Go ahead, I’ll wait. Continue reading

When I was in college, some foolish company thought that they were really clever and decided to give me a credit card with a $500 limit. I immediately maxed it out on booze and rounds on a local par-3 golf course (where my friends and I often drank the booze). It was terrific fun, almost as fun as fucking with the credit card company when they began calling and demanding that I actually pay them. I would tell them that Greg was dead, he died in a tragic blimp accident, no he didn’t have any relatives, he was an orphan, etc. Sometimes my roommates would just hold the phone up and laugh at the poor bastard on the other end. “Hahaha, you stupid fucks! You give a credit card to a college student with outrageous rates and you expect him to pay you back? Morons! Hahahaha!!!” Continue reading

Do you remember the TV show Alice? Of course you don’t. That show is fucking ancient, and so it is only remembered by crusty old fucks like me who also remember doing the Lindy Hop and what it was like to get fellated by Amelia Earhart (the woman knew how to give a hummer, I’ll give her that). So let me give you a rundown: Some bitch with a kid decides to move to LA to become a singer because she’s a fucking idiot, but her car breaks down in Phoenix and she winds up working for 9 fucking years in a shit-hole diner with a cook who has more back hair then Ed Asner. Continue reading

I vividly remember asking my mom about death when I was a child. She told me the usual things parents say in that situation: Death is natural, everyone dies, that’s the way nature works, etc. Parents say these things to reassure their children because they know that if they’re honest with them, their kids would probably hurl themselves under the next school bus they see. “Holy shit, death is fucking scary! I knew this guy who was just walking down the street when, WHAM! A pit bull ran up and tore his nuts off. Bled out before anyone could even call 911.” You shouldn’t say this to your children. I know this now. (Sorry, honey! Daddy loves you!) Continue reading

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