Monday, June 30, 2008

Cult of Personality

I had my first run in with the FLDS this weekend. At the golf course. Seriously.

What else would you call a group of 24 people with no women anywhere in sight with lots of teenage kids who are suspiciously the same age? Oh, and all had slicked back hair with big ears and weak chins. And dressed completely in long pants and long sleeve shirts. Who had clearly never played golf before ever.

They even carried their bags. I don't mean carried like schlepped around. I mean carried in both arms like it was a sack of potatoes and not slung over their shoulder like you should.

And carried enormous jugs of water. I talking 2 gallon Coleman water coolers like they were going on some expedition to the Sahara. Of course if I were going to golf in long pants and a long sleeve shirt, I might bring a little extra refreshment as well.

I did overhear a couple of the kids talking about computer memory as it relates to being able to compile your family tree.

I'm just glad there was neither a raid nor gunplay during the round. I wish this lil anecdote had a better ending. But it was just golfing behind some folks that were a little different. Oh, and I cursed as often and as loudly as possible whenever I missed a putt. Also, they wouldn't gamble with us. I was hoping I could win another wife or two. Because with those weak chins they could use some good Midwestern breeding stock.

Thursday, June 26, 2008

Ricky Don't Lose That Number

True Work Adventures

Me: *answering phone*

Wife: (in husky voice) What are you wearing?

Me: You know you're on speaker phone.

Wife: Dammit.

Eavesdropping Kubemates: *laughter*

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Ain't No Mountains High Enough

In Germany, an American woman hiking in the Alps was stranded for three days when she fell off a ledge. Despite five helicopters and 80 emergency workers searching for her, Jessica Bruinsma wasn't rescued until she took matters into her own hands. How did she finally get rescued? Simple. She took off her bra.

Seriously, Ms. Bruinsma attached her sports bra to a cable used to move timber on the mountain. When the cable was finally operated, her bra rode the cable down the mountain where it was spotted by an alert lumberjack. Ms. Bruinsma would have been rescued sooner, but the lumberjacks were wolf-whistling and cat calling at the cable for several hours before they realized the cable would not, in fact, be showing them any more skin.

Just think if she'd have been wearing a Cleavacious bra. She'd have had lumberjacks, the German Air Force and the Greater Swiss Mountain Dog Rescue Squad there to help her.

The moral of the story: If you take your bra off, a man will soon be there to help you out of any situation. We're extremely helpful that way.

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Summertime Blues

As we've finally had the solstice and concluded the longest day of the year, it's only appropriate that we revisit the genius of Heywood Banks and his hit "I Love Summer." If Heywood is ever in your nape of the woods, do yourself a favor and go see him live.

I don't know about the rest of you kids, but out here in the desert, it's mid 90's all this week. A big hunk 'o sugar like me just melts in weather like this. Check local listings.

I Love Summer

Sneezing from the pollen,
The chain caught my shoestring
Hit the center bar on my bicycle
And almost lost my bearings.

I love Summer
Good old Summer time
Got sunburned on the soles of my feet
And sand where the sun don't shine.

Sunburned at the beach
In pain the whole darn night
So much skin peeled off my back
You could make a set of Samsonite.

I love Summer
Good old Summer time
Got sunburned on the soles of my feet
Lotta sand where the sun don't shine.

Putting on a cold, wet bathing suit
Mosquitoes and bees and tetanus shot in the derriere
Something's crawling at the foot of my sleeping bag
Flaming marshmallows in my hair (drop and roll)

Caught a baseball with my face
Potato salad in the sun
Salmonella steps up the the plate
Listeria gets the run

Oh I love Summer
Good old Summer time
Got sunburned on the soles of my feet
And sand where the sun don't shine
I got sunburned at the back of my throat
And sand behind my eyes.

Monday, June 23, 2008

A Horse With No Name

Reason #568 to love Utah
We still have the Pony Express. And that horse's name is actually Thumper, but I couldn't think of any other horse songs. Except Wildfire and I didn't want to subject anyone to having that in their head all day.
Yup, if you were lucky enough to be driving around town yesterday, you might have actually seen this guy riding his horse down the street delivering the mail.
I just hope someone cleans up the bike lane before the commute this morning. Because you don't want to be trying to brake your 10 speed on that. It might have been nice to be able to use something like to find out the exact horsey route just in case you had important errands to run and didn't want to get backed up behind a Bronco, a Pinto and an Appaloosa.
Please remember, pedestrians, bikes and horse have the right of way at all crosswalks.
I actually think my internet provider is so slow, that when I attach a file to an email, this guy rides out of a barn with a file folder in this satchel.

You can also track this swell historical re-enactment online. How cool would it be for some Indian Casino to ambush one of the riders? And remember, if they make it, so what?

Friday, June 20, 2008

And Then He Kissed Me

I'm continuously amazed how many people use one term in particular to find this little blog 'o stoopidity on a fairly regular basis.

Signs He Like Me remains at the top of the charts. Which really kind of worries me. First, I wrote that long, long ago. Second, I can't believe that the women-folk aren't able to tell if a guy likes her.

I've long considered the woman to the brains of most relationships. So if she doesn't know what's going on, that's not a good sign. Whether you've read it correctly or not.

No wonder all these people are having trouble finding that certain person who is their density. That person they want to drive crazy the rest of their lives. That person who they want to hate them in 6 to 8 months. That person they want to give half their stuff to.

So I'm starting this valuable service. Since people somehow can't figure out if others like them, I'll do it.

Just send me a dollar and I'll use a proprietary, highly scientific method involving involuntary muscular responses, the lunar phase, body language, and 17 other personality traits to make a determination. Oh, and I'll need their email address for this highly customized form.

Don't try this at home. Only a certified, professional relationship expert can do this type of highly scientific analysis. And if you're still not fully satisfied with this amazing service, I can also ask if he likes you likes you.

You can't get any more scientific than that.

Thursday, June 19, 2008

Backfield In Motion

I swear on the tender limbs of sweetbabyjebus that whatever business is in the building across the street is out playing Dodgeball right now.

They even have cones and a ref.

Our office is looking out the window and just hoping someone gets hurt. They maybe we can sub in.

My money is on Average Joe's.

I wonder if you can file a worker's comp claim for a dodgeball related incident?

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

Brandy You're a Fine Girl

I don't care if they're just ripping off an idea that Brandy Chastain originally had.

They still can't trick me into watching football soccer even if they're doing it topless. That's still not enough to get me to watch.

Yes, continuing the cycle of the objectification of the female breast, Austria's Topless Women's Soccer Team beat Germany's Topless Women's Soccer Team 10-5. Hey, if actual soccer had that much scoring, maybe America would watch.

And the crowd was mostly male. You don't say? Men gathered in a group to look at women's breasts. How long has this been going on?

Apparently the players wore only thongs and had their jerseys painted on. That's not a bad gig for all you aspiring artists out there. Sure beats selling your crappy paintings at some hotel on the weekend.

If I had been in charge of the event...who am I kidding? If I'd have been in charge, there wouldn't have been a soccer game. But I'd have had them wear jockstraps instead of thongs. First, funnier. Second, they need some shoes. It's all about the safety. Some poor girl, a 29 year old bank employee broke her toe nail. And in the typical shoddy reporting we've come to associate with Reuters, they fail to give the name of the bank. How else are we supposed to approach Doris Fastenmeir (isn't German a lovely language?) and see if she'd be open to other "creative" opportunities. Like robbing her bank.

Got ya, didn't I? See that's a Zag. You thought I was going one way and I went the other. It wasn't a boobie joke at all. Don't you feel ashamed now? You'd better send a letter of apology to Doris and tell her how sorry you are.

Quote of the story: "I was supposed to hold the balls but I really have no idea how to do that," said German keeper Jana Bach."

Thanks, Reuters. It's not enough that you fail to provide any pictures (and trust me, we know photogs were volunteering to go cover this story), but you've got to go with a quote that has both a double entendre about balls and making the goalie out to be dumb. Nicely played. Because there's no way she could be gullible enough to be topless in a soccer game and smart. Don't worry Jana, I'm sure there's some nice German man who will teach you the finer points of goaltending and show you how to hold the balls. Maybe you can even bend his Beckham a time or two? Okay, now Reuters has me doing it.

Go put your shirts on, ladies and go play a real sport. Like softball or field hockey or basketball. You know, something we'd really like to watch and not one that ends in a zero zero...I'm sorry... a nil nil tie and then gets settled by penalty kicks. Can't we just go straight to the penalty kicks and hooligan rioting and wrap this up before happy hour?

Now I've got to go to the draft party for my Fantasy Topless WNBA league....

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Just Another Brick in the Wall








Friday, June 13, 2008

Meaty Beaty Big And Bouncy

Reason #421 to Love Utah

Our festivals. For testicles.

Yes, in Woodruff, Utah it was the 8th Annual Testicle Festival. Specifically from bull bits. Rocky Mountain Oysters. Swinging beef.

My favorite part of the story:

"Some people have trouble with them," says Lori Cornia, a festival volunteer, adding that it is no different than eating other beef parts such as the tongue, heart or liver."

No offense, Lori, but those are the parts we call "disgusting." That's why we avoid them. Like the plague. And hackneyed cliches. Now I've never had testes in my mouth because I don't swing that way and I'm not that flexible. So I won't judge all the interns from out of state that the Utah Division of Wildlife Resources sent out to the festival. I'm sure it's not just some elaborate prank that we play on the rubes from Wisconsin and New York City.

But some 250 pounds of lamb fries were purchased from a Salt Lake meat packing plant for the festival. So we need to thank these nutty folks who consumed all those deep fried, succulent scroti. Because if they hadn't eaten them, you know those were going in to hot dogs.

Personally, if you're going to have a Testicle Festival, I think it ought to be held at Ball State University.

Thursday, June 12, 2008

Once Bit Twice Shy or Stop In the Name of Love

I don't know what's going on in Sweden, but there are going to be a lot of men planning their trips soon if this gets the right kind of publicity.

In Stockholm, a woman is being held for raping a man. I'm not making this up. And while rape is a crime of violence, what this man went through doesn't sound violent in the least.

Let's examine this story in a little more detail....

A 41 year old woman and a 30 year old man met in a bar on Monday night.

Let's just start with that. First, cougar prowl. Rrraw. Go, kitty, go. Second, they're out at the bar on a Monday night. As it's not football season, some school-night shenanigans are clearly going on. And here's the first hint of some sloppy journalism. What's the name of the bar? Everyone is going to want to go there.

The two were hungry and under the influence of alcohol as they made their way home from the bar.

Well, duh. We call that Plan A. And she's getting a home game.

After the man came up to her place, the woman began to make sexual advances toward the man, which he resisted.

While the man isn't identified in the story, I think we can all pretty much agree it's Richard Simmons. "Don't. Stop. Let's not ruin this friendship. I have to go work on my diet pill reviews for my blog. Please, don't be so handsy. I'm not that kind of man. No means no, lady."

After the man refused to have sex with the woman, she then performed oral sex on him against his will.

Now because of the typical shoddy journalism reflected in mass media, we don't know what these folks were wearing. I'm guessing he must have been wearing those tearaway pants the guys on the bench at NBA games use. Because there are several very important steps that have to occur before oral sex is performed on you against your will. Unfortunately, I can't tell you what exactly those are. But this woman, this giver, after having her advances refused, still was able to talk the man into oral sex. Though her part of the conversation was probably pretty muffled. And she must have been fairly convincing as he needs an, ummm, "enthusiasm" shall we say for the act or else it's like pushing rope up a hill. I hope you get my drift. Because this has never happened before. It's not you.

Here's the kicker:

The man called police the next morning to report that he was raped.

Why would he wait until the next day? Might he have been sleepy and needed a nap. Hmmm, what could have caused that? Do you think he slept over or picked up his tearaway pants and ran out the door? Loser. I'm sure he's not doing this for any sort of publicity or notoriety. He just wants to protect other young men who hang out in bars on Monday nights from the forcible advances of older women.

The woman is being held by police while they are deciding whether to press charges. I'm guessing they're holding her very tightly. Maybe even with their hands in her hair. And they keep asking her if she wants a drink. You wouldn't want a dangerous criminal like this to be on the loose.

Now I gotta hit Orbitz and find out how much a plane ticket to Stockholm is.

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

Adventures in Public Mastication

An exchange between the Wife and I while we were out Sunday morning acquiring sustenance:

“Should we go to the Gay Pride Parade?”

“It’s today?”


“A Sunday?”

“You know we’re not gay despite your love of musical theater.”

“But we’re allies.”

“How do you know it’s today?”

“I overheard our waitress reference it while explaining her outfit to another table.”

“That’s just an excuse to wear purple spandex with green leggings.”

“Do you think the Utah Gay Pride Parade will suck?”

“We saw the San Francisco Gay Pride Parade and it was awesome.”

“But that was San Fran.”

“Yeah, but in Utah it’s only once a year to go nuts. In Saracisco, that’s just Tuesday.”

"Will the parade go by the churches downtown?"

"If I were in charge, it would go by precisely as church was letting out."

"Especially the float with the Priests on it."

Legging-bedecked waitress comes to check on us and touches me on the back whilst making her inquiry.

“I saw that.”

“Moths to the flame.”

“She must dig you.”

“And wants to take me to the parade in a strictly platonic way.”

“If she really dug you, she’d get you some free bacon.”

“I’d share it with you.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s keeping all that bacon for herself.”

Monday, June 09, 2008

Skyrockets in Flight

First it was rice. Now it's fireworks.

If you think the global consortium that controls our minds by allowing us to consume in excess isn't monkeying with us now, you're just in denial.
You're going to have to get your ooohs and aaaahs on the sly this July 4th. Or on the web. Maybe you can get a best buy on lame sparklers or snakes. Is there any crummier firework than the snake? Oooh, ash. Wow.
For one summer I actually worked in a fireworks factory loading semi-trucks. If that doesn't encourage you to finish school, nothing will. That was also the Summer that two fireworks factories blew up. Hey, the union says we get smoke breaks, so we're taking our smoke breaks. Shut it, safety boy. That Summer my parents had one of the best fireworks displays our neighborhood ever had from all the leftover stuff I leveraged from my employer. And I only set one shrubbery on fire.
Utah has two, count them, two big fireworks displays. First is July 4th. Second is Pioneer Day on July 24th. It's when the State was founded after Brigham Young said, "Screw it, we're stopping here. I don't care if there isn't a Stuckey's, my dogs are barking." So that's technically another reason to love Utah even if it is just a tangent. Someone mark that down. And it gives us double the chance that someone will do something crazy with them. Bonus carnage, yes!
You'd just better appreciate those sparklers when they're $4 a gallon, young man. Maybe if you'd have earned those sparklers instead of just having them handed to you, you'd have taken better care of them. Back in my day we used to get sparklers for free. By the gross.
Does anyone else have "state line" fireworks? It always seemed like the best fireworks weren't in your state but you had to drive to the state line and then smuggle them back into your home state. And by smuggling, I mean putting them in the trunk. And these were often fireworks places that were more than just those crummy shacks they put up mid-June. These were real buildings that operated year round. Yeah, I've got the think the holiday season is a little slow for fireworks in the Midwest, but they were open.
For Michigan, Indiana was the sweet siren's call of illicit explosives. I don't know what kind of anarchy goes on in Indiana the rest of the year, but they've gone laissez faire in their approach to fireworks regulation. And if you're within 2 hours of their border, you're sneaking in to buy M80's, bottle rockets and other high profile projectiles.
Now I gotta get to the Nevada border and see what kind of explosives I can smuggle back into God's country.

Friday, June 06, 2008

Look at Me, I'm Sandra Dee

You're probably going to want to go ahead and mark your calendars for this one. Sandra Day O'Connor, yes, that Sandra Day O'Connor, is pimping a video game. I'll let your head catch up here. Yes, a former member of the Supremes is touting a video game to teach kids how courts work.

Sandy Baby said she's involved in the sure to be fabulous projects to show people that judges aren't godless activists. That's right. A lot of them are god-fearing activists. That makes it completely different. Just because some judges choose not to follow the law and instead make up the law and decide who will be the President, that shouldn't make people cynical.

You'll want to go ahead and bookmark the site. Because you're going to want to be playing Sandra's Day in Court as soon as its available. Luckily I know a little something about the interpipes and those darn webby sites so I was able to crack open some of that htemily code and find out all about the game.

  • Under their robes, judges have no pants.
  • Players have choice of lawyer avatars: sharks, weasels or rats.
  • Game halts everytime an ambulance goes by.
  • Latin terms used not just to confuse laymen but because it's "so cool."
  • Gavels can also be used for cracking walnuts.
  • The Scales of Justice should not be used to weigh weed.
  • A donation to the Judge's Retirement Fund ensures the next objection goes your way.
  • Free speech cases are cool because we get to use curses and watch dirty movies.
  • The Supreme Court doesn't actually play any music by the Supremes.
  • "Dissing" comes from the word "Dissent" which is Latin for "You're a tool."
  • Any time the term Penal Code is used in court, Clarence Thomas giggles.
  • Appellate briefs do not involve underwears.
  • Not all bailiffs are named "Rusty."
  • The Court Stenographer does not appreciate any double entendres using the term dictation.
  • Scientific Opinion Witnesses do not like being referred to as "Whores."
  • Once on the stand, Police should refrain from gunplay.
  • When being sworn in, do not answer the oath with "As far as you know."
  • Judge Judy is not on the Supreme Court. Yet.
  • Crossing your fingers during testimony does not excuse perjury.
  • Catching the Prosecuting Attorney in illicit activity with his Legal Secretary gets an innocent client and a bonus score.

Man I can't wait for this to come out. It'll be almost as good as Law and Order Health Code Violations. I'm out of order? This whole blog is out of order!

Have a good weekend, kids.

Thursday, June 05, 2008

Black Dog

My dog, Guinness the Wonder Dog, has begun to criticize my driving.

It happened this morning on the way in to work. Oh, yeah, he's got a job. Apperently he applied for some jobs in Philadelphia and it turns out they have a Utah affiliate. What his job? He licks himself on a webcam. Hey, I think it's sick and wrong too, but if people are going to subscribe to, who am I to judge?

Anyhoo, we're on the way in to work and I hit a pothole. Hard. And the Hound stands up from where he'd been sleeping and looks at me. Yeah, I know.

He doesn't like sticking his head out the window and pretending to fly in the morning. He prefers to take a little cat nap to save up his energy for all that licking.

So the look. It wasn't the head cocked WTF luck. It was the full bore, dead stare, stop it look. The same look you get before the bath. The "Hey, fucko, I'm napping here." It had fingers, I know which one he'd have been showing to me.

I still think he's just pissed about this. I was trying to keep snow off his paws. It lasted about 2 minutes. Who knew dogs had such long memories? Jeez.

Wednesday, June 04, 2008

Reason #459 to Love Utah

Yet another reason to lurve Utah. We gots wild cougars! And not just the ones down at BYU.

I've seen them in the suburbs. Cruising by the high schools in their minivans and throwing candy at the boys' lacrosse teams. It's scary when they stalk their prey and then finally charge.

Then they usually take a young man captive and he never escapes. Right, Ashton? Look at those fangs. Man, that's scary.

The best thing about this whole story is you know that couple is never going to yell at their dog for barking again.

Tuesday, June 03, 2008

Top Ten Things You Don't Want To Hear At Your Prom

I got nothing today, kids. I stayed up too late watching the Dead Things gack up a lead to the Pigpens, so I'm stealing leveraging from Uncle Dave. Suck it, Gonchar. I hope the Pens need medical alert bracelets reading WARNING NO TEETH. At least I'm not bitter about the overtime loss at home.

Anyhoo, here's it is.


10) "This year's theme -- Midnight at Gitmo."

9. "For tonight I'm not the cafeteria lady, I'm just Kate."

8. "They were out of corsages, so I got you a mustache comb."

7. "Hope you don't mind the costume, but I have Iron Man fever!"

6. "Sorry I'm late. I was at lamaze class."

5. "Help... bow tie... too tight... can't breathe!"

4. "We're cancelling the rest of the prom to give you a taste of the bitter disappointment you'll experience in your adult life."

3. "I spent $400 on the tuxedo, $600 for the limo and $800 for the gasoline. You're putting out all right."

2. "Your carnation really brings out the red in your acne."

1. "Congratulations, Glen -- you're prom queen."