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

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.

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

“Now I’m going to show you something, and I don’t want you to ever forget it.” Yeah, I bet, you freaky looking perv.

Chances are that you’ve got a killer in your household, something directly responsible for over 1.2 million deaths worldwide every year. It is so dangerous, in fact, that you have to obtain a special license to use it. It is expensive to purchase, expensive to operate, and expensive to maintain. In addition to all of that, it is poisonous, contributing to pollution so severe that it claims an additional 1.3 million lives every year. If you even turn it on in a closed room, it will kill you within minutes. I’m referring to, of course, automobiles, specifically the one I had to take in with a blown master cylinder this morning. Fucking cars. Continue reading

Now this is how you troll a religious talk show.

I grew up on my mother’s cooking, and as my mother is French-Quebecois, I was not exposed to spices of any kind until I was well into my teens. Seriously, my mother cooks the blandest food known to mankind. English food seems daring and risky by comparison. It’s not her fault, she just cooks the food she happened to grow up on. Of course, as she became Americanized, she became a little adventurous. I remember being excited when she announced that she had found a recipe for chili and was going to make it for dinner. Chili! It sounded so exotic! Then I sat down to dinner and my mom served it to me. On a plate. Continue reading

What could be more wholesome for kids than some old fashioned claymation? Here is a clip from the Adventures of Mark Twain, because, hey, kids gotta learn about Satanism sometime!

Pretty amusing until he calls the guy a “vat of John Tesh”. That’s going too far.