You might know Michael Bay as the producer of the Transformers movies which, if you’ve never seen them, is the cinematic equivalent of watching a lawnmower fight in a dynamite storm. Just super-brainless crap, with a body count in the opening credits. So naturally, the Samsung corporation asked Michael Bay to come to speak a few words at the 2014 CES, because if there’s one thing you want your company to be associated with, it’s movies that make professional wrestling seem highbrow. Continue reading

The smartest thing my parents did when they bought their dream house in 1974 was to dedicate a single room in the basement to their three sons. “Here,” they said, “if you’re going to do anything bad in the house, do it in this room. You’re free to do whatever you want in here.” And they meant it, too. We wrote on the walls, broke light fixtures, and left that room looking like a tornado had hit the Mattel corporation, and they never said a word. Not even when my older brother, during a furiously contested game of indoor basketball, threw me through the drywall and into an entirely different room. I’m sure there were limits to the immunity they had granted us. I mean, it’s not like we could start doing needle drugs and hookers down there (we had a different room for that), but any of your garden-variety male offspring destructiveness was accepted with a shrug, just as long as it never left that room. Continue reading

I had a wonderful Thanksgiving weekend and over the course of it I discovered many things to be thankful for, the most important being my children. I had a wonderful time with them, and even though my days were incredibly busy, I got to relax each night, surfing the web as they slept soundly, dreaming of damaging major appliances before they’re fully paid for. Surfing the web, incidentally, is even more enjoyable now that I classify it as “job-related research” for tax purposes. Getting a $7 million tax refund may not be common, or even legal, but it’s certainly a hell of a lot more fun than being law-abiding. Continue reading

I’ve got a weird week in front of me: I’m working tonight, I’ve got my son’s baseball game to attend tomorrow night, Halloween is Thursday night, daughter’s choir concert on Friday night, cooking, cleaning, blah, blah, blah, nobody cares, Greg. But it does mean that I have less time to think about what I write on this gigantic collection of dick jokes that I call a blog. So instead of a well-thought out post with a point and other niceties (such as sentences with word order correct), you’re more likely to get a strange, stream-of-consciousness post with little or no socially redeeming qualities. Kind of like MTV. Continue reading

I was at work today, calmly minding my own business when an alert on my news feed interrupted me in the rudest way possible: “Hall & Oates nominated for Rock and Roll Hall of Fame”. What a kick in the fucking teeth. I mean, why don’t you just break all the bad news at once, why don’t you? “Planet Doomed: Last Days of Earth to Feature Million Degree Temperatures, Glee Marathon”. Fuck. Continue reading

One day in the distant future, my grandchildren will ask me, “Grandpa, where were you when you heard the news?” And I will, of course, ignore them because I will be too busy watching three-way insertion porn on Fox. Yes, that’s the future of Fox. Don’t act surprised. (But because it is Fox, it will be conservative insertion porn, with no migrant workers or welfare mothers involved.) Continue reading

If, despite all the therapy and post-traumatic stress medication, you still remember a post that I wrote in January, you’ll no doubt remember that I pronounced Olathe, Kansas the murder capital of the United States. This shocking fact is 100% true and well documented, which is doubly surprising considering the fact that I made it up. Still, that wasn’t going to prevent me from trying to make a buck or two, and so I offered the Olathe Bureau of Tourism a deal: Pay me a lot of money, and I’ll stop fucking up your tourism by saying things like, “7 out of every 10 hotel beds in Olathe, Kansas are infested with HIV-positive bedbugs.” Continue reading

I have a new rule in my life: If I find myself in a commercial establishment that refuses to put paper towels in their restroom, I will immediately burn that establishment to the fucking ground because, seriously, if you can’t splurge on paper towels to dry my hands with, you suck more ass than Clay Aiken on vacation. Continue reading

Does anyone out there know anything about the Daily Mail? I ask because the days are long since gone when you could trust the press to do something as crazy and outlandish as tell you the actual news without slanting it to meet some obscenely rich person’s hidden agenda. Take media mogul Rupert Murdoch, for instance. Murdoch owns FOX News, which has been accused of having a conservative bias to further its owner’s hidden agenda, which is that he advocates raping babies. (Please note that I used the same amount of fact checking on that previous sentence that FOX News used in its coverage leading up to the invasion of Iraq.) Continue reading

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