More than one person asked me if I had really placed the Boz Scaggs Tested – Boz Scaggs Approved logo on a gas pump yesterday, or if I just Photoshopped it on there. No, I really put it on a gas pump, and to prove to myself that it wasn’t another one of my Robitussin and paint thinner-based hallucinations, I drove by to see if it was still there today. Twice. In the morning it was right where I’d left it, but when I came home from work it had been thoughtfully realigned and moved to a corner of the display, where it works a lot better, stylistically speaking. It is one classy looking gas pump. Continue reading

My daughter and I were looking at upcoming concerts the other night, in a vain attempt to find a show worth seeing that we would both enjoy. My daughter’s tastes run to boy bands and pop music, whereas my taste in music is primarily centered around bands that actually know the difference a quarter note and an asshole. But I exposed my daughter to an awful lot of classic rock when she was younger, and it has definitely had an impact on her. If the Beatles tour any time soon, for instance, she is fucking there. Continue reading

Finally, after an exhaustive search, I’ve found the perfect production company to take on my ambitious idea: To make the Dogs on Drugs movie! I still have a few niggling details to work out; Peter Cetera and Kenny Loggins’ people are holding out for more money (I think – How much does “all the tea in China” cost, anyway?) and Steven Spielberg reacted very negatively when I told him that I basically planned to “punch up” the script for Schindler’s List (seriously, that was like the worst comedy I’ve ever seen. WTF?) But I’m sure those are all problems that can be overcome with a new round of funding or, barring that, the judicious application of mind-altering drugs. The important takeaway here is that I’ve finally found my production team: The people with the technical savvy to pull this thing off.

I am really fucking excited!

I came to realize today that I really hate receipts. It’s not uncommon for me to be struck with realizations like this throughout the course of a day. “Hey! I’m at a funeral!” I’ll realize with a start. “And everyone’s looking at me! And I’m not wearing pants! Again!” You know, the normal kind of realization that occurs when you’re fond of mainlining tequila and antifreeze. Continue reading

I read a study the other day in which scientists claim to have proven that rats experience regret, which is a surprising outcome that left me awestruck with wonder. Specifically, I wondered what kind of fucking drugs these scientists were on, and was awestruck by the realization that there is apparently enough money in the world that these guys were funded instead of hounded out of the scientific community (a process that I imagine involves the forcible removal of a pocket protector and/or the ceremonial breaking of a slide rule). Continue reading

In the time that I’ve been alive on the planet, I’ve experienced an almost mind boggling amount of great rock music. The Beatles were still a band when I was born, even if they were lugging around that crazy, shrieking Japanese chick everywhere they went. Led Zeppelin came and went. The Rolling Stones… Well, they were here at the beginning, and they will outlast us all. After the nukes rain down and end this little dog and pony show that we call humanity, Mick and Keith will still manage to wheel their dried up, withered husks onstage and play Start Me Up to an audience of radioactive cockroaches and Twinkies. Continue reading

My daughter graduated from junior high school last week, which was kind of weird for me. Oh, and, my youngest son graduated pre-K as well, which is kind of ridiculous if you think about it. My kids have graduated pre-K, kindergarten, elementary school, and junior high, with high school and college graduation ceremonies in their future. It’s overdone and it waters down the meaning of graduation when you do it over and over like that. “Congratulations! You graduated recess!” Big fucking deal. The ceremonies are cheesy, and hokey, and forced, and all the kids are just kind of standing around up there doing nothing, and wow, look how big they are! I remember when they were so small that I could hold them in the crook of one arm, and how they depended on me for even the most basic things, and… and… and… Excuse me! I HAVE SOMETHING IN MY EYE! Continue reading

Yes! It is the first week of summer! It’s time to get outside, get a great tan, and get fucking LAID. And we all know that the best way to get laid is to come up with a rock solid pickup line. (Still mailing it in, folks.)

Summer vacation is here for my kids, and that can only mean one thing: Freestyle rap battles! Yeah, you read that right. Freestyle rap battles! That’s how I motherfucking roll, yo! (In case you can’t tell, I’m mailing it in this week.)

It has long been known that the laws of physics, while limiting in some ways, often offer avenues to bypass these same limits. We may not be able to travel faster than the speed of light, but we can OD on cocaine, Red Bull, and jimsonweed and it certainly feels like we’re running faster than the speed of light. That cop that was chasing us? That donut-scarfing tub of authority is long gone. We are free to fly around the universe unfettered, at least until we run out of blow, or possibly wake up to realize that we hallucinated the entire thing in a novelty photo-booth at the mall. (It’s been known to happen.) Continue reading