House of Wachs

I HAD A NAP

Today's hero is an unlikely one here in the House of Wachs.

President Willie. Here's a video of him falling asleep during a speech by one of the King Offspring. 

Hey, somebody had to snore it! 

Martin was the one who sacrificed his life for a good idea. Coretta is gone, the last person to be able to have some legitimate claim to the struggle. But those kids of his....

Basking in the reflected martyrdom we give them and they repay us with self-serving and uninspiring meanderings.

Good job, President BJ, napping through that freeloader's dreck! I feel your sleepiness. Just the mention of the King Family gives me a warm sense of ennui as my eyes glaze.

Now if you could just see your way clear to derailing that Marxist sociopath you call a wife one more time with your genital antics, that'd be swell.

Today's goat is La Daintyan Tomlinson, running back for the San Diego Lady Chargers, currently the front runner for the NFL's Kirsten Dunst Award.

The real LT is Lawrence Taylor; a man so tough that NFL offenses started investing millions of dollars in the left tackle position due to his ferocious play; a man so clairvoyant that he broke Joe Thiesmann's leg in anticipation of the day Joe would become an insufferable TV host.

Tomlinson as LT, my knee. More like Lay-tee.

Phillip Rivers, had knee surgery before the AFC title game. Played.

Antonio Gates, dislocated toe. Played.

La Daintyan had a sore knee. Stopped playing after 4 touches. No surgery needed.

"You tell me what running back has played with a sprained MCL and been effective. You might go out there and try to limp around and play, but it's not going to happen." said the defensive offensive back.

You mean, of the running backs who wear earrings like Vicki Lawrence on Mama's Family? You got me there.

Was there no cortisone available? Shoot that thing up and get out there. It's not Week 6 of the regular season. Do something!

I guess the knee was so badly hurt that he would have risked severe injury if he stood on the sideline helping his teammates read defenses and such. Better to sit and pout with your tinted helmet on so no one will see you cry.

The Lady Chargers have a problem. Lay-Tee can play. But this is the second year in a row that he's acted like Celine Dion on her period after a big game. Physical ability means nothing if the mental game is off.

You'll recall last year, after the Patriots mocked Shawne Merry Man's dance, the classic quote from La Daintyan was:

"When you go to the middle of our field and you start doing the dance that Shawne Merriman is known for, that's disrespectful."

If I ran the Chargers I would leak a bogus rumor to the press that we've talked to several teams about trading her Majesty. Teams such as the Falcons. That ought to be a wake-up call. Have Natrone Means come into the office during mini-camp this spring. At least he got them into the Bowl.

Then again, it's probably the management that needs the wake-up call the most. Do you think Marty Schottenheimer would have let LT sit much less pout? He's gone. I guess they like it soft in San Diego. It makes a championship fisting more bearable.

Stay prissy, San Diego!

PROTECT YOUR NUT

A colleague emailed me these propheticesque words yesterday:

McCain beats Hillary 53% to 47% in the general election. His victory will come down to Independents who perceive him as a truth-teller compared to the legacy of the Clintons.

I like Romney but the Repubs, when given a choice, will always give it to the next guy in line- and it doesn't hurt that the next guy in line ain't a Mormon.

I fear two things this year. McCain getting the GOP nomination. This will lead to a Hillary Clinton victory in my view. 

So actually, I'm only afraid of one thing. A Clinton victory. At least I've cut my worries by 50%, and it's not even February.

I've already taken some steps to protect myself  in case of such a dire occurence that a known rapist uses his straw wife to get a 3rd term, and none of them include moving to Europe as those cowardly weasels on the left promised back in 2000 and still haven't done, much to virtually everyone's annoyance in America.

I'm going to blackmail my brother, a top surgeon, who has stated to me that he intends to vote this mess into office and even campaign for her/him. I believe his group is Surgeons Against Salaries.

I know a lot about my brother. I have a lot of dirt on him going back to the time when we were 8 and 7, and he came up with the plan to poison the neighborhood retard, a 10 year old who told us he was friends with Hitler. The tard/bully promised that one call would have us both dead by morning.

The point is, I've got a lot of dirt on my brother and I may have to use it to secure free, off-the-grid healthcare for me and my family in perpetuity. I suggest you start keeping tabs on your favorite physician immediately. Hire a PI now, or wait in a year-long line for your prostate bleeding problems later. It's up to you. Economics don't bend to politics.

I'm also looking into being a pot dealer to secure some cash to send off shore. I wouldn't want be a cocaine dealer because they are more violent and ruthless given the nature of the commodity they are peddling. Pot dealers are probably a more friendly bunch given the tranquilizing properties of their product. Still, I'm only in the listening tour stages of my research into this venture.

Then again, I just may rob drug dealers like Omar on The Wire. He makes a pretty good living and can afford to go to the Carribean for vacations, although I would go with a woman.

Now would be a great time to head over to Buford Highway to establish an alternative identity from the many ID providers that have been helping the American-Mexican community for so many years. It comes in handy when you need to drive to work everyday instead of the alternate days that come with an environmentally safe administration.

Another thing that puzzles me is what is it about Mormonism that makes people think America won't vote for one for president. I don't see anything controversial about them.

A Mormon president wouldn't be all hopped up on caffeine like all the others. What's wrong with that? Maybe he'll get more rest and have time to relax and think about the issues more clearly instead of being twitchy from colas and coffee.

I'm voting for Romney in the primary because he's white. Why not?  I think America is ready for a really white president, and Mormons are the whitest of white people.

Romney. He's my wigger!*

_{*Until a Jewish candidate comes along.}

WACHS' MEDIA MEDITATIONS

Channel 46 here in the ATL is really dumb. How hard is it to get ratings when they have this magnificent creature of gOD on their staff? I'm referring to Dagmar Midcap, pictured above, with the glorious cans made of soft she-leather. She's clearly Canadian or Australian.

You wanna know why it's hard to get ratings with her, and why they are always last in the news race, sometimes behind syndicated reruns of Archie Bunker's Place? She's currently utilized as the EARLY MORNING weather gal. A time of day when few can really study her. Shame.

The caption on this said that she MAY be moving to evening news weather. Hell, she should be doing the whole newscast by herself. Sports, weather, traffic, murders...the whole she-bang. Katie Couric does it, and she doesn't even have the looks to distract viewers from her many inaccuracies and gaping gaps of actual news knowledge. She's a downright toothy moron!

I want to be assassinated by those cans.

Herschel Walker reveals in new book he has multiple personalities

"That's all news to me," former Georgia coach Vince Dooley said in Friday editions of The Atlanta Journal-Constitution. "All I know is whatever personality he had when he had the football was the one I liked."

"I'm probably one of his closest friends and that's news to me," said Frank Ros, who was captain of Georgia's 1980 national championship team. "I knew he was working on a book but I just thought it was about football. He does 100 things at once and always has projects going on, but that blows me away."

The reason for the confusion is that Tony Dorsett, who thinks he's Herschel, wrote the book.

I know everyone in Atlanta is staking out this blog and checking it every few minutes for some confirmation about rumors they've heard about me and my career in show business. Well, your patience has paid off!

I just received a letter from my masters at SuperDeluxe.com and Turner Entertainment Group informing me that What's Your Story, America's #1 satirical sub 3-minute news show on broadband video sites in America, is renewed for another 10 big episodes due to my kick-ass attitude!!!

After a couple of week break, the next show will be Friday, the 8th day of February. YEAH!!!!!

WHAT'S YOUR STORY #10

KIND NEWS NUGS

I have witnessed this countless times. Someone on TV, or at a gathering, will refer to black Africans--people living in Africa, never set foot on our soil--as African-Americans.

On a parallel correctness track, there are all those people who have looked at me like I'm an idiot when I've referred to white people from Africa who live here now as African-Americans.

Here's a variation on that old nugget. In Maryland, the governor has proposed a special driver's license for illegals. From the report:

Undocumented immigrants would not be able to use their license to board airplanes, enter federal buildings, or cross borders.

Ummm...wouldn't having a driver's license make them documented immigrants? Undocumented has now completely replaced illegal in the English language for Impractical-Americans from every country.

Oh, it's also a dipshit idea. We'll make it so you can drive amongst us in a vehicle made of ladders, but don't do something dangerous like go back to Mexico or enter government buildings. Oh, OK.

Mark this day on your calendars. January 15th, 2008. The day a local sports team has done something correct and pleasing for the first time since 1998.

The Braves' AAA team is moving from Richmond to Gwinnett County for the 2009 season. It makes too much sense. I won't believe it until I see the stadium rise from Sugarloaf Parkway.

AAA baseball was where I caught my first professional foul ball on a 30 degree April night in Rochester in the 1980s. In fact, I got two that night. There were only 27 people there, and I think everyone else got three, so it wasn't the thrill I'd thought it'd be. Still, I have never caught one in a major league park.

Minor league baseball is affordable and intimate. The security hangups are few. You see the talked about stars of the next few years, and, in this case, don't have to live in a shitty town where eating at Chipotle is exotic. Best of all, Braves fans don't have to drive 28 miles in tremendously frustrating traffic and low level APD flunkies with their ever-changing rules on parking, and then walk through poverty's laboratory to get to the game.

Good job, Braves. It makes up for the hell you helped make of my life while working for Clear Channel.

I heard a commercial on the radio for Lifelock. I'm not familiar with the product, but it's supposed to protect you against identity theft, according to the ad. Rush Limbaugh even endorses it and says it guarantees your identity will be safe from predators or you get $1 million if Lifelock fails you.

It sounds good, but here's the catch as I see it. Who gets the $1 million dollars? Wachs or the person who's pretending to be Wachs? Because if my identity is breached, there's nowhere I can deposit the check. Do they hand you a suitcase full of bills?

Here's Bill Clinton giving a speech surrounded by teen girls. Well, they keep giving pills to Britney. What could go wrong?

Did he let an SBD or did he mind rape her?

"It's hot in here," he says. So take off all your clothes. Everybody's thinking it. Smooth.

Then he turns around and asks the teens if THEY have any questions about middle class tax cuts. It just so happens that's what Jeri with the cute top and shiny dirty blonde hair is thinking about these days. Bill cares. It's getting REAL hot in here. And if you can't stand it, GET OUT!

Where did Nurse Chelsea take the girl, and what are they doing with the Chelster in the campaign? She's not allowed to speak to anyone, but she's always around.

Depending on their perception of how they are polling with the American public, I think the Clintons have something up their sleeve, and will use her as a key prop in some unconscionable stunt that will place the nation's pity on that poor, grieving, close knit family, the Clintons, and make them king and queen once again. Chelsea will be the South Park Kenny.

Don't ask me what exactly is going to happen. It's just a hunch. Maybe they'll release Hinckley for a few days to take some pot shots at her and highlight the flaws in the 2nd amendment. Maybe she'll slip on some meat and hit her head to point out the flaws of free market health care. Maybe they'll just stick her on a MARTA train that breaks down for hours with no A/C in a scary neighborhood to point out the need for more public transport funding. I don't know. But she's there for a reason.

Good night and great news.

I HAVE ANOTHER STATEMENT TO MAKE

As many loyal readers from the Atlanta area are aware, it's been a crazy week here at The House of Wachs.

There have been endless amounts of speculation as to what is going on with my broadcasting career, and quite frankly, I'm a little weary of it all. Not that I don't appreciate it. It's just that all the phone calls and emails have been distracting from my life's mission to entertain good, hard-working Americans such as you staring at the screen and interacting with that thing in your hand.

I don't have the stomach for the gamesmanship that's been going on, quite frankly. The cat and mouse with the media. The "punking" as one scribe recently put it with an unnecessary apostrophe added for good measure. Therefore, I've decided to make an announcement here regarding all the speculation.

"What's Your Story?" is now featured on CNN.com!

Ain't that crazy? Who would've thought that a right-wing Jew like Wachs would ever make it to CNN's website making ultra-right wing comments?

That's the funny thing about the future. Ya never know what's going to happen.

THE UPSIDE TO DUI

Just got back from a mission in St. Maarten, where George Stein and I go once a year to teach Judaism to the poverty stricken natives. If you're ever there, and see kids walking around in their copyright infringing ghetto wear and yarmulkes...that's our work. George and I are committed to getting the island's first synagogue up and running by next Yom Kippur. Please. Donate.

We stayed, of course, in George's modest home on the French Side.

Where crazy-eyed French-speaking guard cats prowl the premises and take no prisoners.

I bought this print for my wife out of love, and guilt that she wasn't on the trip.

Let me first acknowledge that it's a really lousy painting. It doesn't lift an emotional finger whatsoever. It's a painting with utterly no passion. Devoid of any inspirational markers. Revealing of no influences or perspectives.  It's not even good enough to be a children's picture despite the inherently low standards of children.

That's a wave in the middle. Not a seagull. They don't have seagulls down there, which is a bit of a shame since I like chucking rocks at them. But the beach is not rocky, but powdery, so it's just as well.

I paid $36 bucks for it because it happens to be a painting of an island on which I got it on with my wife during our honeymoon.

I persuaded her to go to the titty beach, which is so romantic and not creepy, coercing your new bride to go look at flabby old nude couples from Europe show off their raisins.

Well, I got aroused anyway. It wasn't the nudity, because much of it was the unfortunate kind. It was the idea of being able to run around completely nude in front of people and no one cared or laughed. It's as close to being invisible as one can get. It got me really excited.

Since nudity and not porno was allowed on the beach, we waved down a boat driven by a native with a giant package. For a small fee, he ferried us to the island in the picture above, about a minute away, where we went behind a rock ( on the right hand side) and got it on. Man, that was great.

Over the years, I never thought my wife could possibly have enjoyed it as much as me because it really is a man's pirate fantasy, and because I kept slamming her hip into the rock with every thrust, so she must have been banged into that rock about 4 times! Ouch!

My suspicions were confirmed, I'm sad to report upon my arrival. My wife hates the painting. I felt so terrible. And she made a wonderful warm bowl of cabbage soup for me, too for my arrival back into the colder weather of reality. She promised to hang it in our beach house when we get one, which is not looking all that good right now.

I might ask my Dad if I can put it in his beachfront mausoleum. That's class. Putting a print of where you first boned your wife in your parent's home.

Another busy week of What's Your Story? coming up, so I'm gonna go and look busy and sift through the week's parade of newsism, now.

WHAT'S YOUR STORY? #9

VERMIN SUPREME

Congratulations to former Atlanta radio competitors, (whom we beat, natch) Frederick Toettcher & Richard Shertenlieb, now of WBCN/Boston, who pulled off this viral prank.

It’s a tribute to the Clinton credibility that millions of Americans instantly assumed it was a set-up by the Clintons to make her look like a victim.

So I also blame that radio show for helping her win in NH. OK, I can’t prove causation, but the correlation is strong.

Not to worry. She’s still unelectable in modern America, and given that NH has a higher percentage of “independents” i.e. crackpot libertarians and left-wing enviromentalretards than forthcoming states, there won’t be many more breaths of air during the months-long waterboarding torture America will continue to give the hated duo. The Iguana with Marfans was only down 2 points.

The “indies” is why McCain won in the GOP. Here’s a chart from the AJC:

(Sorry, but my formatting skills are subpar this evening)

NAME           VOTE TOTAL    VOTE %

John McCain    73,122             37%

Mitt Romney    62,719           32%

Mike Huckabee 21,665           11%

Rudy Giuliani    17,067             9%

Ron Paul          15,149             8%

Total Write-Ins    3,274               2%

Fred Thompson    2,375               1%

Duncan Hunter       983                   0%

Stephen Marchuk       320                0%

Alan Keyes       177                         0%

Albert Howard       173                     0%

Daniel Gilbert       110                     0%

Cornelius O’ Connor       100            0%

Jack Shepard         69                        0%

Tom Tancredo         59                      0%

Hugh Cort         38                              0%

John Cox         34                              0%

Vern Wuensche         33                    0%

Vermin Supreme   30                0%

James Mitchell         22                     0%

Mark Klein         18                           0%

Mark Fendig         11                        0%

There’s, like, no one in this state. I’ve seen bigger turnouts for the John’s Creek Commissioner of Wild Game.

Fred Thompson lost to write-ins. I guess that’s what happens when you make a heartburn face throughout your campaign.

And Vermin Supreme got more votes than three guys. 

Back to What’s Your Story (#9) taping tomorrow. The producers are putting immense pressure on me to lose weight and get more hairpieces. I’ve been binging and purging like a demon lately, so I’m good there, but there’s little time in my schedule to do big wig shopping, so help a brother out if you could.

If you can pitch in a hairpiece for me, I’d appreciate it. Maybe an auntie recently perished. Maybe you’ve been to Monica Pearson’s house. Maybe it’s an unwanted Christmas gift. Whatever you’ve got in the way of hairpieces or wigs, send it to:

Scott Kirby

c/o SuperDeluxe.com

1065 Williams St.

Atlanta, GA 30309

Then, look for your wig on the show. Great!

CHANGE OF FOOLS

"I want to make change, but I've already made change. I will continue to make change. I'm not just running on a promise of change. I'm running on 35 years of change. I'm running on having taken on the drug companies and the health insurance companies, taking on the oil companies. So, you know, I think it is clear that what we need is somebody who can deliver change. And we don't need to be raising the false hopes of our country about what can be delivered. The best way to know what change I will produce is to look at the changes that I've already made."--Hillary Clinton, Jan. 5, 2008

WTF is this woman talking about?

No one knows. No one.

So voters scratch their sacks and yawn while she clumsily recites her focus-group branding words.

It's like listening to these radio stations that name themselves after a guy.

"Fred FM is different from the other stations."

"How so?"

"It's named FRED!"

One of the fundamental reasons, other than ugly and mean, that this woman will have her pointy hat handed to her in NH, and beyond, for the next few delightful weeks, is that she is a cringe-inducing communicator of ideas.

Well, keep crying Sweet Cheese Buns. Maybe that'll work. Put ice on it. 

"I have so many opportunities for this nation."

You?

For..us?

Oh, I see. Because opportunity comes from government? Gotcha.

Maybe she's not such a bad communicator after all.

MIRROR, MIRROR

If Iowa has any say, we're headed for another Jimmy Carter-style era here in the colonies. Obama v. Huckabee. More inflation, more energy problems, more taxes, more government and more god.

But here's the cheery news--until there's more bad news. Iowans don't have any say.

Iowans are too white. If America lets them lead the way to the White House, then World War 2 becomes meaningless.

Iowans think Obama is a real black man. They think Miami Vice is great. They smoke a lot, and they eat at Applebee's. No, wait. That's misleading. They aspire to eat at Applebee's. 

What happens in Vegas never stays in Vegas. They've been exporting gambling and porn for years. What happens in Iowa, DOES stay in Iowa. No one wants to be like them. Even Nebraskans.

Here's the thing with Iowans. This is the only attention they'll get for another 4 years. If you got that little attention, say your family only celebrated 1 out of every 4 of your birthdays, you'd do something stupid, too.

Huckabee is toast after we're done with the JV states where Chuck Norris is still an A-lister.

On the Democrat side, Obama has a great chance. He's different from the other Dems.

Obama on terrorism? He'd be the first black president!

Obama on taxes? He'd the first black president!

Obama on illegal immigration? He'd be the first black president!

Obama on....first black president....

Maybe that's enough to win these days. We've had gay winners on Survivor. Perhaps we're ready. Hell, if someone could guarantee that his presidency would finally shut up all the people who whine about how racist America is, and they could finally go concentrate on earning for a living, I might even toss my vote into his cause.

But most likely, I'm voting for Reagan this time. He may be dead, but I like his philosophy.

FORWARD THINKING

I want to make it clear that I did not make the classic mistake of celebrating 2008. I merely kissed 2007 goodbye. There's a huge difference.

Here's me last year.

Look at that. FOOL! Celebrating a year that hadn't begun and would prove to suck. Well, no more. I am never again going to celebrate a year I haven't lived yet starting with this one. As far as I'm concerned, the jury is out on 2008. No. The jury hasn't even been seated yet.

And for those of you who stubbornly cling to the idea of celebrating a year at it's beginning, think about this. What if you die this year? You've already gone on record as having endorsed this year as a good one. Dumb. Really dumb.

We went to see some friends in Charleston, SC. I've some cool pictures to post as soon as I can dig the SD card out of the seat cushions in my car.

Their house was on a beautiful private island accessible only by boat to residents and their confirmed guests. Transport on the island is by golf cart or feet. The gimmick here is the closeness and harmony with the environment. Strict building codes and absolutely no retail.

That means, of course, you have to pretty much storyboard your next couple of days before you take a 12-mile boat ride back to civilization just to get to your car. And it's not like you get a discount for regressing so. In fact, all the residents and home owners paid quite the hefty premium for the remoteness and oneness of it all. Environmentalism is so cumbersome, inefficient, almost masochistic. You work your ass off for years to earn all this money and then blow it on a spread where you can watch birds and grass and trees like you can anywhere, but just less comfortably. I don't see it. All that cash to pretend you're a shipwreck survivor.

I like nature, but it's kind of boring after awhile. That's why they have cable channels. They sift through all the nature out there for the good stuff to film and show on TV. That way, you get some nature in ya, and can get some work done. That was the tacit bargain struck centuries ago between the rural and city people. Some of us will need to work in buildings with our minds.

Then I get home and glance at the WSJ which is reeling about the $100 a barrel oil, and how the US economy is in turmoil over this. Yeah, no kidding. Being environmentally friendly is hideously, obscenely expensive. The return on investment is poor. I've read several analyses that say roughly the same thing. We have enough oil in the ground obtainable at current technology to last 100 years at $1 a gallon. Plenty of time for Mother Necessity to help us discover new human sustaining technologies. So let's cut that shit out in '08.

Some good news on the '08 front. Hillary Clinton loses the first round pretty badly. Third place behind John Fagwards and Barack O Carter. You just know she's screaming at someone tonight and making Bill look more and more like a hero for cheating on her. I won't be the first or last with my analysis on this matter, but arguably the clearest. She lost because she's ugly and mean. Nothing anyone can do at this point to change this. She's certainly in it for the long haul because of her money, connections, and willingness to murder, but America will not vote for her. Nice.

On the other hand, if the GOP keeps handing I Hate Huckabee victories in the early going, your pal Wachs may be forced to take a hard look at Ms. Cynthia McKinney with the Green Party. At least with her, she'll do something to get herself impeached, and we can start fresh. Who's her running mate? Bobby Petrino? I'm in.

What else to catch up on? Oh, yeah. I got yelled at by a wedding DJ last week for watching the Patriots/Giants game instead of participating on the dance floor. Look, jackleg. You spin the MP3s and let me worry how to entertain myself. Weddings are for women and their friends. I participated plenty, but weddings end for me when dessert is served.

Even my wife, despite her frenzy to escape her roots and marry into my family fortune, soberly understood the implications for her special day and worked with me in scheduling our wedding for a day when no major sporting events would distract from our union of love. Unfortunately, the SF earthquake of '89 delayed the World Series to our day, but at least we made an effort and that Series sucked and no one cared when it returned.

Beyond that though,  what kind of man tells other men, who are GUESTS, and are ENJOYING THEMSELVES, watching one of the most MEMORABLE FOOTBALL GAMES OF THE DECADE, to stop? John Kerry risked all of his political cred demanding this game be put on three networks as the Constitution says, so we're almost obligated to watch. This DJ must be paid per boogie...or he's a fem.

Saw two movies that have Oscar buzz all over them. Juno was a pleasant disappointment. It came within a pregnant teen's belly hair of being unbearable with dialogue that made "Clerks" seem natural. The soundtrack has convinced me that, from now on,  the word "indie" is to be used as an insult for people who are consciously quirky. Then I saw "No Country For Old Men" which is a good movie with a shitty ending. You will love it and then you will hate it as I did.

Tiffany Fallon was just fired from Celebrity Apprentice. That hurts. I know she still wants me and my brother,  Dr. Mike, in a threesome with me watching from a closet. Now I can't watch her every week. I feel like NBC has done something terribly wrong, and I've emailed them to bring her back and set Omarosa on fire as she deserves. I'd love to see Trump say to her, "You're on fire!"

I swear, as soon as I find a foolproof alibi for the night when Rascal Flatts' bus goes over a cliff due to the brake lines being cut, she will be my next wife. I almost had her several years ago, after I photoshopped a penis on her picture and showed it to Keith Brooking, who believed it was real and immediately broke up with her. But by the time I saw her again, she had already hooked up with the band.

Tiffany was the was the first to get fired, too. Double pain. She failed to make a lot of money selling hot dogs apparently, and Trump admonished her, being a Playmate of the Year and all,  for not calling up Hugh Hefner and asking for $10,000 for a hot dog.

"He's my good friend," says Trump. "He would have done it for charity, my good friend would have. He would have given you $100,000, I'll bet my good friend would have. Did you know I'm good friends with an aging pornographer? You should have called him. He's a friend."

Well, as a friend, you probably know that Hef doesn't give a Tiffany Fallon $100,000 for a charity hot dog unless it's his weiner being wrapped in her buns out of charity for him being 90 and snorting Viagra.

So Trumpy fired her for being too shy and sweet and being too grossed out by Hugh Hefner. All the things that give me a boner, he hates, that Trump. He could never be my good friend.

Much more later, friends.

THAT'S RIGHT!!!

What ever became of Slim Mackerel?

Slim, a.k.a. Steve Markle, is a musician and filmmaker in Toronto who recently emailed me to wish a blessed 2008, and that he enjoys the "What's Your Story" episodes, which resume January 11th.

He sent me a link to some of his latest works:

TWEENER WEEK

OK. OK! I've gotten about 2 emails asking what I'm doing during the holiday tweener times, so while I have some spare moments, I thought I'd put up an update.

YESTERDAY:

-I figured out the Bluetooth in my car. Then I called people for the novelty of it.

-I unclogged two drains in my bathroom with Liquid-Plumr. I don't agree with the spelling or the use of the hyphen, but it sure works well. Just don't get any on you.

-I went to Super H to look at the weird Korean foods. I bought an apple, a yogurt, and some rice cakes.

-I called my bank to get another check register sent to me.

"It'll just take a minute to pull up your records."   Why does it take a minute to pull up my records? Don't they have computers? Is there a line to use the computer? Is it an old XT?

-I watched "The TV Set" because it's from the guys who made "Walk Hard" and "Freaks and Geeks." It proved they are human.

TODAY

-I got more face surgery today. Last week's went so well, I decided to get more. Right now I am a little high from anti-pain meds, and I've made a nice pillow fort in my bed from which to blog at y'all. I'm pretending that I'm a Pakistan person reporting on the Bhutto murder from under a table in a sanctuary that has Wi-Fi.

-I started to watch The Brothers Solomon starring Will Forte. It made me feel as if I could write a Hollywood script, too. Then a friend called to make me watch C-Span. They were having a debate called "Lesser Known Candidates Debate" where they had on candidates who were not as well known. It made me feel as if I could run for president, too.

There's no video up yet, but they may repeat it. It was held in a library in New Hampshire, and the candidates came across not so much as wackos, but average, unpolished soap boxers who, owing to the fact that they dominated the internet message boards where they hung out, felt they had a shot of taking it to the next level, which naturally is the presidency. Of the ones that made sense, they all either had a speech impediment or hair style that made them unelectable.

-I updated my Garmin GPS map. I've been getting lost with it lately.

-I'm eating Rice Chex now. They are good. 

TOMORROW

-I'm going to speak to my agent about a few things.

-Eat pills

-Lie down and watch "Chuck and Larry Get Married."

PAX WACHS

My annual Christmas flu has come and gone leaving me 7 pounds lighter, and I am now ready for a day of world peace. Merry Christmas to everyone, even people I hate. If you are not sure, or just lonely, you can call me this holiday season by clicking on the button to the left, to the left. Everything you wish to say in a button to the left. At only $2 a minute, this is quite a bargain. At my peak, I was getting $6.

It was a short and inexpensive illness owing to my incredible array of preventive techniques including proper diet, rest, exercise, and refraining from going bareback with street people. In this day and age of escalating medical costs, one would be wise to follow the regimen of Wachs.

Still, managing risk gets you only so far in a country where politicians do their level best to keep it Cuban on the medical front. Genetics makes the odds of living without a hiccup until a sudden and peaceful sleep death at 100 virtually impossible, so it would be nice to live in a place where you don't have to pay $1300 a month for the privilege of paying $50 to check to see if you're dying when something crops up.

Right before the flu, I danced for a day with cancer. I use sun block and hats and even wigs on occasion to keep the deadly UV monster from my dome, yet the sexy freckle checker I keep on retainer still found it necessary to do some preventive refurbishing of my head to stop a runaway mole from burrowing it's way into my nodes  and nads. While everything is well now, it will cost me an arm, and possibly a leg to keep my head. Where's the return on investment? There is none.

I understand that medicine can never be anything more than a way to die slower, but I do not think that the cost today is in line with the actual value of the service. A little numbing agent, a syringe, a clean knife, and a young helper to blot the bleeding. What does that cost the provider? Probably 6 bucks. Multiply that times 10 for profit margin like they do in a restaurant and, BAM! $60 later, healthy as a horse.

But then comes the cost of the professional victim industry and their volumes of mandate, regulation, and patronage that put $60 procedures in the $600 range, and that's if your brother is a doctor. I don't know who is going to be elected in November, but it doesn't seem to matter. Medicine itself is already on the black market, and is not leaving in this life.

What I suggest, if you value your life, is to learn to lie, cheat, and steal like a major leaguer to insure you have a safety net in place when the other safety nets fail. This is your only shot on the planet, guys and gals. Squeeze the life out of life. Tomorrow could be your day. You gotta get the good stuff if you don't want to be a sucker watching soaps in a hospice one day.

Make friends with an epileptic and take him to a pharmacy. While he's having a seizure, you could pop on a mask and jump the abandoned counter. Grab all the meds starting with the letter "H" so as not to waste time deciding. You're sure to have something for future illnesses.

During my medical recoveries, I was watching a show about Europeans and Russians on Discover, or History, or some middlebrow cable channel, to kill time between the meds I had the foresight to steal from my parents when they came to visit last month. I don't remember what the show was about due to flu-induced ennui but I did note how different Eurasian skulls are from ours here in America.

Their bones seem to knit heavier in the brow area and there's a flatness or ovality to the rest of the thing, while here in the US we tend to be more even-skulled and squarish.

Self selection, evolutionary, or environmental? The brain in my attractive American skull does not know for sure. I do know that Attractive-Americans of all colors tend to migrate to places where the attractiveness can easily monetize itself in legitimate ways such as acting, spokesmodeling, and banking, and this leads to the others getting left behind in harsher climates to focus on activities suited to their look such as boxing, diesel fuel preparation, and local politics.

Having flu ADD, I continued perusing the program guide, and happened upon a Hannah Montana episode running on the Disney Channel. I've heard a lot about this young lady, who is taking America by storm and is not pregnant yet, but I had never taken the time to see an episode to determine what the fuss is about. I was shocked to see a young woman who, to my sensibilities, was nothing more than a carny child.

I felt bad when I heard reports that local parents were sold counterfeit tickets at hundreds of dollars a pop to see this garish hillbilly girl with the cigarette lungs, and were left holding the bag at the door of the arena. After spending 2 minutes of TV time with Miss Montana, I must recant my sympathy. Those parents deserved to be fleeced for even thinking of paying any money for this spectacle of Greater Appalachia. Put a Mr. Yuk sticker on her!

Meanwhile, the problems compound for America's Fallen Sweetheart, Jamie-Lynn Spears and her followers. Another product of safe sex and single motherhood, Alicia Keys has developed a strategy to cope with the mounting problem of America's wanton love-making teens. She wants Jamie-Lynn to be a spokesperson for safe mounting! That should fix things. Another complete screw up given the bully pulpit.

After turpentine guzzler Kitty Dukakis did wonders for America's substance abuse problems a generation ago, and the Olsen Twins blazed a trail to a sandwich for many Auschwitized females, it's only right to make a 16 year old with a tramp stamp on her birth certificate the point guard for the bob and slob offense. And toward whom is her message geared? Why naturally, the handful of socially stunted children who watch Nickelodeon past 13. That's quite a fast crowd. Well done!

Here's how it works in the real world. It's quite simple. Safe sex is not an option for people whose age ends in the word "teen." My daughter is 16 now. Years ago, I told her that if she were to get pregnant before she got married, I would kill her, the baby, and the father...and his family. End of story. Now, of course I wouldn't, but I might. Thus far, she is not pregnant. If this method fails I will be the first in line to buy the new Nickelodeon contraceptive Sponge Bob for her, if I can get the money from my government provided health care to do it.

As with the lot of you, I'm going to hibernate for the rest of the holidays with minimal postings if any. Recent events suggest that 2008 may have a shot at being a good year, and I look forward to sharing news with you when fantasy time ends in January's dewy first days.

A pax on all your houses!

WHAT'S YOUR STORY? #8

ZOEY 102

Boyfriend of pregnant teen Jamie Lynn Spears could face statutory rape charges.

"It's your dick in a box!"

There they are. The puppy lovers in the doghouse. I'd name the kid Jesus, with it being the most controversial pregnancy since.

This dude will never be able to get it up anytime soon. He'll have flashbacks like he was in a Vietnamese Prisoner of Sex Camp. He may be the Tony Conigliaro of sex.

Why wasn't this the cover of NOT OK! Magazine?

I had a discussion with a doody head today who's outraged, not that Jamie Lynn was pregnant, but that people would be outraged by Jamie Lynn being pregnant.

"Big deal. Why don't they go after drug dealers?" They don't anymore? Sweet.

If that's the position any of you chuckleheads are thinking about taking in your quest to be the go to guy in the office for opinions on popular culture, here's the upside. Most people will think you are spelunking minors yourself. Not all. Just most. Careful there, Maverick.

And since when did people who advocate a laissez faire approach to statutory rape suddenly become anti-drug warriors?

Say no to drugs, but yes to Ashley. Do I have that right? 

OOPS! AGAIN

Britney Spears' 16-year old sister is knocked up. Words fail. Let me gather myself.

Lynne Spears, already grandmother to Britney's young sons, says: "I didn't believe it because Jamie Lynn's always been so conscientious. She's never late for her curfew."

How about her period? Any opinion on that?

There's your problem source right there. The mom who is under the impression that kids won't screw before 10pm. Then she wonders why her daughters treat their parts like a Greek diner.

OK, enough. I'm saving the rest of my comments for this week's year-end episode of What's Your Story taping tomorrow and streaming on Friday.

"So if you shave your head, I have to get pregnant?"

SKIN DEEP

Here's Michael Jackson in a Vegas bookstore with what looks to be office supplies all over his fucked up face.

My god. Will his father just apologize to him already for calling him ugly when he was little? I'm trying to keep down a meal over here.

OK, then. Michael. How about trying this website I found? Barnesandnoble.com. Thanks.

Also thanks to legendary conservative Rush Limbaugh for acknowledging my contribution to the culture.

Rush was pondering what this widely disseminated photo of Hillary Clinton would mean for her chances in the elections.

His conclusion: Not good. The American people don't vote for old and ugly. Interesting theory.

Here's a HOW column from 1/23/07:

Here's why Hillary Clinton will not become president.

She's ugly. Good night! She could promise to repeal the income tax tomorrow and still wouldn't cut it. She's just not attractive. There's no way around it.

Margeret Thatcher was ugly too, but people in England thought she was a male or at the very least, Alistair Cooke, which lent a regal credibility to her. Hillary Jefferson Cunton reminds everyone of the unselected leisure-suited witch in their life, be it recovering alcoholic lesbian spinster aunt or poodle haired real estate agent. She is easily the worst representative of the word female one could credibly put in front of the voting public.  Her penis envy shows on her puffy, weary, Soviet face in every single picture.  When she smiles, it can never mask the companionship of the wide eyes of surprise, the tell-tale sign of an enraged person who must over-emote to hide the smoldering within.

Sure, there are other reasons that invalidate this dumpy, water-logged totalitarian's grab for power.

She's a she. The American public does not want a leader who is prone to emotional outbursts and fits of irrationality.

Her voice.  A public already weary of George Bush's fumbledumble way of speaking will not put up with a shrill woman who says "Ya know" more times than your average NBA center.

But ugly is really all you need to score this one.

That's why I'm thinking my vote in '08 is gonna have to go to this man:

Barack Albino! The clear choice.

Happy birthday to Dr. Mike, who is 45 today. If you're in the Colorado area, and you need a new liver, give him a ring.

AN IGNORANT WORK OF BREATHTAKING GENIUS

There are times when I just have to sit and catch my breath, freshly snatched from my bosom by the sheer genius I've just exhibited.

I am a college dropout, and that's a flattering way of describing my education. In reality, I dropped out in 8th grade. Mentally. I attended 4 more years, and received a diploma, but that's due to low standards and not high achievement.

So there's my daughter, wailing about how she is doomed to a life of dead end jobs and bad men because she can't figure out her advanced trigogeoalchemy for her finals, and her only lifelines are as ignorant as stumps when it comes to anything more advanced than square roots.

"Perhaps I can help," said Daddy in a manner suggesting that I've given Halliburton oil drilling advice in the past.

I might as well have asked her if she would consider rubbing fungus cream on my feet.

"YOU DON'T KNOW THIS!" she screamed. "HOW ARE YOU GOING TO HELP ME? GO AWAY!"

"Lar, just..." said my wife. That's code for "you're a moron who doesn't know shit and will only worsen the problem so transport yourself several hundred feet, if not miles, from this room."

Well, the odds were clearly against Wachs, I must say. If I had any hope of doing the things I enjoy doing upstairs in peace today, then I had to solve this problem fast.

I went upstairs to listen to "Holding Out For a Hero."

Came back down.

"Sometimes I go nuts like that when the checkbook won't balance."

The kid looked at me like I had just urinated on the floor.

"What ya gotta do is go back to the beginning of the problem and check the assumptions on all your functions or operations or whatever. Then you'll find the answer."

"YOU KNOW WHAT? JUST GO AWAY. THAT IS NOT HELPING ME AND I'VE GOT TO DO THIS!!!!!! GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!"

OK. Sounds good. Back up the steps.

Top of the steps and I hear:

"...ooooohhh. I'm such a tard. It was staring me in the face. Why'd I do that?"

Yep.

WHAT'S YOUR STORY? #7

SWOOPTY

Here's Al Sharpton urging a congregation not to tip at restaurants.

The FBI swooped in on his swoopy head and raided him for financial documents, yesterday.

This should get interesting. It looks to me from my black helicopter that this may be much ado about nothing. Just maybe a message from the Clintons to keep his folk on their side of the line. The opposing pressure from the Obama camp to not be a traitor to the skin tone must be pretty great, too. Al Sharpton may pop like a ripe fruit.

This is going to be the best 2008 ever!

I'd be surprised if the FB  raid resulted in this sovereign fiefdom with hair being hauled to prison. But it's about time someone in the government at least acknowledged that he's a lowlife.

If he were white, he'd have finished his 20 year sentence 8 days ago.

Just gettin' around to it. Thanks, Sheriff. That Sharpton is hard to find. Very elusive.

He'll be dead soon from heart failure, but thanks for thinking about justice. 'Preciate ya.

RETRINO

Here's Jamaal Anderson. The Falcons' top pick from Arkansas said he was telling Razorbacks supporters that Bobby Petrino is 'disloyal.'

Did you bother telling them that you are a busted 1st round pick? And we'd like to send you back with him? Piece of shit, sir? 

This picture, done by a professional football player named Lawyer, should actually read "''COWHER!" but it won't ever.

The common thread in these pictures is the man who hired them all, Mr. Blank. OY!

The Falcons are the Clear Channel of football. Such greed and hubris mixing into one unbearable serving of void.

Getting a new coach is easy, finding a new owner is tough. I'm not saying Arthur Blank can't learn and mature on the job as he approaches his 70s. It took the Irsays only 35 years to figure it out.

That a guy would quit the Hollywood of Sports to get a crack at moving to West Inbreed University says a lot about the guy who hired him.

Then there was the case of the Boy Who Liked To Play With Dogs, and the other coach who also wanted to ditch the team for a worse job.

The GM who hasn't made a single improvement in on field personnel. The dispiriting parade of college wunderkinds, tertiary NFL assistants, and EOEs that interviewed for the past two head coach openings.

What I can't understand in all this is how a man of Mr. Blank's business experience and acumen could misread so many people so badly? Is it ego? Because he does tend to hire only people who he thinks need him more, and in the Vick case, that would be an appalling lack of judgment from the leader of a huge business.

I wouldn't be surprised if the Falcons new head coach is Al Cowlings.

BREAKING NEWS:

Steroid witchunt begins anew in about 10 minutes. Fertilizing............

CHRISTMAS LATKES

Mmmmmm! Organic ice cream sandwiches for dessert tonight. Right off the tree. Thank you, God.

I think the word organic, as a marketing phrase, has officially jumped the cruelty-free mako shark fillets in a lime-basil butter.

It even fooled me into believing it was healthier when they just kept it to meats and produce.

"These tomatoes are organic! Grown in a sun-kissed valley from the rich and loamy soil, pulled gently from the vine and on your table that evening. It''l make your hair grow back, lower your heart beat, and make your pecker, ZING!! Ha ha!

Not like those tomatoes over there, the wretches. Grown between the cracks of gritty urban sidewalks, surrounded by chalk outlines, and noise pollution. Then cut down by a machine...a machine!...which takes them when they're still GREEN!

And they go to a factory, where they're spraypainted red, and turn your guts into cancer. GET THEM OUT OF MY FRICKIN SIGHT!"

There's no difference except price, the cost of vanity raising the price of the organic stuff. Oh, and the organic stuff has somebody's poo on it, usually.

But then the marketers got greedy. Now, every product has an organic cousin and it's become meaningless because there is no health benefit to wearing organic shoes, or wearing organic deodorant. That can't possibly work. Body odor is as organic as it gets, and a product that tamps it down is the definition of unnatural. The circle of absurdity is complete.

Ya gotta admire Kosher. It's kept it's integrity through the lo-cal, lite, natural, oat bran, fat free, lo carb, and clear crazes.

No ham means NO! DAMN! HAM!

NO! NEVER!

WHAT'S YOUR STORY? #6

ROCK HARD'S RICEY NUTS

Lemme tell ya sumpin' about ole Wachs.

He may be a disappointment in radio and personal hygiene, but when it comes to recommending quality products for his readers, few can beat him.

Many people ask me, "Say, where can I get healthy breakfast products?"

They know that breakfast is a mecca for junk food. It's hard to find stuff that won't give you instant onset diabetes.

That's why I recommend my cereal of the year.....

PERKY'S NUTTY RICE!

This is top echelon cereal, you people.

The name...

Sounds like their talkin' about some tig ole bitties right there, yep.

The taste...

Perky and nutty.

The crunch...

Just as you think you might bust a tooth, each nugget of Perky's Nutty Rice gives up the ghost like the treadmill for the cast of "The Biggest Loser."

Crunch is so important to me in food. I try to avoid foods that don't snap to.

Crunchless foods tend to clog up the urgent business of the bloodstream.

I found Perky's Nutty Rice at Whole Foods (Geez, ya think? I was fooled by the Amish hillside and the gluten/nut allergen discussion on the box)

This is not one of those paid shill blogs...but it can be.

ISSUES AND NO ANSWERS

The Omaha mall shooting. Let's see...

From the woman who took the gunman into her home after he was booted from his.

He was depressed, and he had always been depressed," [Debora Mauroka-Kovac] said. "But he looked like he was getting better."

So much for her judgment. Put her on the 9th Circuit.

From USA Today:

The shooting happened not long after President Bush left Omaha, where he had arrived for a fundraiser.

...which has absolutely nothing to do with the matter at hand. But thanks for the update, pressie. How could I possibly make an informed opinion without your aid?

Besides the violence and it's utter pointlessness, the thing that scares people most is the realization that, despite the relatively safe, free, and orderly country we've got going, we also have millions of irrational time bombs walking around who cannot find comfort in living.

As much as we find great parlor sport in our pop psychology---"Oh, he has issues"-- and debate and formulate policies to prevent future such incidents, we know full well that even the greatest minds in the world still have only a rudimentary knowledge of the human mind in it's functions and dysfunctions. You're on your own.

I don't know what the local laws are in Omaha, and I'm sure the swiftness made self-defense moot, but I'm surprised that someone in an entire mall during the busy season didn't attempt to fire back. Is that a function of panic or legal culture? Probably both.

YOU GAVE 99% OUT THERE

I got this full color brochure in the mail from my bowling league:

These are rings for people who have bowled exceptionally well.

If I bowled a 300, I sure would want a ring. It's impressive.

Hey, why wait? Honestly, I don't have the patience it takes to bowl a 300. League bowling is filled with distractions like drunks, molesters, and truly ugly women, and the 3 games go at a pace where it's hard to get into a groove.

I'm going to call them tomorrow and see if I can get a ring without bowling a 300. My guess is that they will say no and have me arrested for perjury. It's not like bowling has spare integrity they can just throw around. After all, it's a sport where most participants leave with more unburnt calories than when they started.

We'll see.

What I cannot understand is why anyone would buy one of those 299 rings. They also offer 298 rings and the "11-in-a-row" ring, for people who knocked down 1 pin with their last ball.

How much attention in your life are you lacking when you pay 70 bucks to purchase a ring that commemorates your misses?

Can I interest you in this special sock?

Only $30!

--------------------

UPDATE:

I called to purchase a ring without bowling 300, and the lady--who was recording the call for quality control--said they verify all claims. No 300, no ring.

I think that maybe the USBC should be in charge of our borders.

HURRY UP AND SCREW! SCREW UP AND HURRY!

Here's a story about a 29-year old grandmother in Quad Cities, IA....the person on the right....uhhh, I think.

Look, I'm all in favor of helping cruel stereotyping disappear from our society, but come on, folks. Help out a little, would ya?  What? You have a lake of semen in the backyard?

Russell Eugene is 1 day old.

His mother is 15.

She fidgets with a bottle of milk as she talks.

Then, sitting up straighter in bed, she asks, “When do you think I can play basketball again? I want to go out for the team at school.”

Oy vey!

New vocabulary word: NEVER. It means, "not ever."

Back at home with her mother and brothers, Celia — wearing pajamas and a do-rag that covers her hair — holds the baby. Her tank top shows off two black tattoos on her arms.

One, which winds down her forearm, reads “Tish,” her mom’s nickname. Another, below her shoulder, reads “Manica Magee,” which is the teen’s rap name.

Leticia told the girl she could get inked if she kept her grades up. They went to Chicago to get it done.

“She earned them,” Leticia said, nodding her head.

It's like watching the Munsters where everything horrific is perfectly normal.

"Oh, Herman. Eddie got a D in math, so I let him dig up the graveyard. Isn't that wonderful?"

"HAWHAWHAW...Lilly, that boy is a chip off the old slab...HAWAHAWHAWHAW."

(house shakes, ceiling tiles and dust fall, never to be replaced)

INCOMPETENT KNIEVEL

What's so great about Evel Knievel? I think he was an asshole.

My dad took me and my brother to the Baltimore Civic Center to watch him jump over the Snake River Canyon, where they had a giant movie screen on which to beam the Pay-Per-View event which absolutely, and without qualification, sucked bus fumes.

My dad spent another $40 bucks over the price of the tickets to keep shoveling snacks in me and a restless little Dr. Mike to keep us busy until this nut got into his rocket and went on his ill-conceived mission.

Idiot. If you're going to use a rocket to go over a canyon, at least get the engineering and physics right so you can make it over. Hard-working Americans paid top dollar to see your droopy dick of a rocket go flaccid into the canyon. Anyone can do that. No doubt the Russians were having quite a chuckle of this display of American "don't know how," and I'm sure it extended the Cold War another decade.

We went home with diarrhea and no thrills. After he acheived ripping off millions of children and their fathers, I remember steam coming out of my dad's ears and hearing words on the way home of whose meanings I wasn't sure, but I felt strongly they were about genitals. He took out a lien for $240 on the Knievel estate to cover the cost of this enormous swindle of people's time and money. Maybe now he can collect.

WHAT'S YOUR STORY? #5

PEOPLE PEOPLE

I'm not a people person. I'm a person who is interested in people. There's a difference. The former is immersive, the latter is coldly observant.

That's why I read..."PEOPLE!"

A whole magazine filled with...PEOPLE! Pages and pages of....PEOPLE! doing stupid things.

Carrie Underwood has bad luck with guys? No, the problem is that guys have no luck with her. Put out, sweetie. In Oklahoma, serial dating will drop you on the social ladder. I get that. But not where you are, now.  Just do it.

Jeeeesusssss, take my leeeeeegs!

Spread them wiiiide a paaaaart.

Thank you.

Kanye's mom makes me weep. She just wanted to look nice without having to exercise and diet and all that bother, and she chose a quack based on the recommendation of Queen Oprah of Tennessee. Now she's dead. I don't think she chose wisely, but I don't think her choices demand a death sentence.

Even in the hands of a skilled practitioner, lipo is barbaric. All this medical technology at our disposal and we're still shoving vacuum sticks in people to thin 'em out like cavemen poking an ant hill. Lipo has encouraged the consumption of more calories, not less.

Celine Dion thinks that's her son? That's because she's a robot built in the 90s on an old operating system which had issues with gender recognition. She was about to be recalled and rebuilt when Titanic hit it big, and they let the recall slide because she was needed in Vegas by her anxious financial backers.

That is actually the world's first asexual childbot built by Texas Instruments. Excuse me. My fail. It is the first asexual childbot built on a LINUX platform, and it shares a plug with their golf cart at night in the garage.

I did a double take on this one. First, LACI Peterson was missing, and her husband was the suspect. Now we have STACY Peterson missing and her husband is the suspect.

I'd hate to be Kacey Peterson right now.

If that's your name, RUN, HONEY! Drive to Cincinnati on a snow white Christmas Eve and stay there.

LET'S SEE NOW...

What are these three slapjacks gonna talk about in Annapolis? The Arabs want to liquidate Israel, and Israel wants to defend itself. There's little else to say except for Bush to step up and for the thousandth time tell the Arabs to cut the shit or get blasted. What more talking needs to be done after 2000 years of discussion? How are the Patriots doing? How crazy it is trying to get Hannah Montana tix? They've got a whole week to fill. What a waste of jet fuel.

OJ Simpson's 2nd Trial of the Century has been scheduled for April 7. Mike Vick's is scheduled for April 2nd. Throw Hitler's birthday on the 20th, and April 2008 is shaping up as an exciting month for you racists out there.

I think it's rather cool of OJ to entertain a new generation with his felonious antics. Most of my brain says I'd like to see him get his due in prison, but a small abcess on my brain keeps insisting it might be cool if OJ either walked or got like seven years so he could get out of jail in time to make more asinine schemes and have a 3rd decade in a row where he's on trial for a major felony. I think our children and our grandchildren deserve an OJ trial, too. It's a thrilling opportunity.

I don't like any of the Republican candidates this year, to be honest. Too early. Although I think Giuliani is the most captivating thus far, he's still kind of an FDS nozzle. His personality is a little too erratic for the presidency. I could see him hanging out in a bar and everything's going great, but 2 beers in, Rudy is a completely changed man from 2 beers out.

So, no, I don't watch any of the foreplay debates. Just bring the main event and someone who can actually beat the most beatable woman on the planet. It may Obama now that Queen Oprah has selected him as her political boy toy this go round. We'll discuss some of Oprah's previous endorsements on the next What's Your Story, #5 becoming available Friday morning on SuperDeluxe.com.

If Oprah is so smart and powerful, why doesn't SHE run for president? Because although she's nice and warm and rich, she's also a sucker with mediocre judgment.

Yeah, I think I'll start a school in Africa for teen girls and get one of the locals over there to run it for me. What could go wrong?

If a Democrat wins the White House, so be it. The country could recover from Barack O Carter, and it would from Hillary Cank. Only in her case, people of my generation would not see the recovery. I'd like to have a few golden years. At least the past year of my life gets me a good jump on everyone else in adjusting to the coming deep recession.

Today's newspaper was actually useful for the first time in months with regard to getting news. They printed pictures of some of the carefully screened YouTube dimwits scheduled to appear on the debate this evening and saved me a lot of time. I would have been pissed to have to sit through a debate waiting to see the YouTube questions, only to hear the least enlightening questions possible.

The YouTube gimmick that these debates employ is laboring under the assumption that because a technological breakthrough is transforming our culture, it follows that it's content will be just as brilliant and groundbreaking. Well, it's not.

99% of YouTube is shit. 99% of YouTube is responses to and parodies of Chris Crocker. 99% of YouTube is instant nostalgia of the embarrassing kind. I've probably contributed 10% of it myself. I'm already burned out on the whole garage/basement look to the videos. To really capture a large audience, in 2008, as in 1968, you've got to have some slick and polish to a production. It's cute at first, the rawness, like your girlfriend's sexy, raspy voice panting in ecstasy when you first bone her in college, but by 40 it's enough to make you want to take lots of pills.

There are some gems out there in YouTube land, but in roughly the same ratio if you did a nationwide cattle call for the next big thing. American Idol. Millions have tried out, and after 6 years, they've only found three real stars. One was voted off in the middle. Innovative platform, though.

So here are some of the YouTube debate questions, and how I would answer them, minus that snowman bullshit, which ballroom dances on my every nerve. The questioners are from: Seattle, Modesto, Ann Arbor, and Austin. All males no older than 30 and all asking questions that may have relevance in a general election, but not in deciding who the new Republican horse will be.

"Are you willing to demand that ... paper ballots are used ... or ... paper printouts are mandatory for electronic ... machines?"

That's a Democrat gripe through and through. Paper ballots cause more error and confusion than electronic. Is Florida 2000 that distant of a memory?

The electronic machines are practically error free, and the only people creating doubt are the fringe kooks who have lost elections and make wild claims against the machines instead of taking the blame for not connecting with the voters in sufficient quantities. I don't see them complaining about swiping their credit card over the internets.

"If nominated, do you have a short list of possible running mates? Would you reach across to the opposition?"

Why would any Republican who doesn't want to lose by more than 50 points ask a Democrat to be his running mate? It's never happened before with either party. Government is a semi-functioning marketplace of competing ideas. Maybe we need more parties but certainly not less. Isn't government enough of a monolith without consolidating power even more? Go away.

"See this sign? The people who own this house are having a problem selling it. [Who's] at fault for the mortgage crisis?"

The idiots with the sign up. That's who.

If you sign up for a loan you can't or won't pay for, you're a part of the problem. There are no predatory lenders. Not one of those mortgages was coerced. There are many desperate, greedy people who will sign anything to have a home they can't afford. What can government do? Make things worse, as they are about to do with another round of anti-predatory lending laws that make people on the margins and some inside, unable to own housing. Then, as sure as Wheel follows Jeopardy, some hustler comes around blasting the same mortgagers for "ignoring the poor." Back and forth until we're Brazil.

"If you didn't get the Republican nomination, who would you want to get it and why?"

This is my favorite. It adds absolutely no clarity to the central question of the debate: "Who SHOULD be President?"

What he's asking is this. "What other candidate do you like? If I like him, too,  I'll vote for you so he can lose."

What a tail-chasing moron.  How does it help you decide on a candidate by asking them what they'll do if they lose?

About ten years ago, a buddy of mine went on a job interview and afterward came to me dazed and confused.

"The guy asked me 5 reasons why he should hire me, and then 5 reasons why he SHOULDN'T hire me."

"What'd you say?"

"Nothing. I left. Reason #1. Because I'm not here. We never got to the rest."

H.O.W. QUOTE OF THE DAY

Adam Carolla, of Hollywood, CA, called the House of Wachs today to discuss another matter, and without much effort, rolled to victory lane in the House Of Wachs Quote of the Day.

I estimate that Adam generates around $40 worth of free comedy for every 15 minutes you spend with him and it makes me feel guilty. I'm gonna send him a check. So, it'll bounce. It's the thought.

Why they insist on giving him superfluous radio partners is beyond me. It's like putting a shag throw rug on expensive Berber carpet.

Here's the HOW Quote of the Day:

"It's really kinda racist to assume there's more to the Sean Taylor story than meets the eye. But, it's likely a correct assumption."

Congrats, Adam! You win the Double Larry T-shirt from the HOW Store.

The HOW Quote of the Day is available for sponsorship. Email me for details.

ASKING OF THE JEW

I'm happy to have built a brand where hundreds of frustrated males can come when they have nowhere to turn after the glamour of a big-time holiday has dissolved into reality and the leftovers are just gross. Holiday drinking and impotent anger. Good for business. So let's say goodbye to all the green meats in our mental refrigerators and jump right back into the game of life. You people need me, and I've been lax for the past few days.

From the email bucket, a HOW correspondent, sends his NFL notes along from another frustrating Fantasy Sunday.

I think Eli Manning has a touch of the D.

I'm gonna have to disagree here, Slapnuts. Having a touch of the D is an absolute statement. One either has traits of Down's Syndrome or doesn't. Eli Manning clearly does not. Relative to his lineage, he does seem to have a deficiency, but still, he is a starting NFL QB, an elite fraternity only reached by superior genetic specimens.

Eli Manning's problem is he only has a touch of the M. He's not as Manning as Peyton or Archie.

To me it's remarkable that the Mannings' semen and egg combos yielded two competent NFL QBs. First, the odds of getting a woman pregnant twice without any birth defects these days is a pretty good acheivement what with all the crazy shit they put in food these days and what with the ladies getting their ovaries pierced and vacuumed every 6 months these days.

OK, then the odds that those two random sperm and egg combos would come out as two athletic young men who can reach the top of professional sports is lottery high. Asking them both to win the Super Bowl is...why be so ungrateful to God?

Why do blacks get black tattoos?

It's about time this was discussed rationally. I went to Yahoo Answers, and they are so uptight that they called the question axer a bunch of names without even considering the merits of his curiosity. Doubly irritating is the fact that the thought police at Yahoo! have labeled the question as "resolved" even though no one answered it, and the "Best Answer" was from some sensitive sistah who told the curious chap to take the next flight out. What is she hiding?

I will answer it because I have been told by our great minds on this issue--Sharpton, Clinton, Kanye, Mavis Staples, and Carter--that we need to have an honest dialogue so the races don't kill each other in the next century. I agree. Shouting down people who ask good questions does not lead to understanding, and shunting aside truth is like throwing away effective medicine because it tastes harsh.

First, tattoos are for people who need to scream at others 24 hours a day but still need to get some rest and eat. If I may coin a medical phrase as a layman, I'd call the syndrome Epidermal Tourette's.

Attention deficient black people are at a distinct disadvantage to attention-starved whites in that the pigment of their skin often makes it difficult to read their messages of an unloved childhood.

Logic tells us that either there is no white ink available at the tattoo parlor, which I don't know about due to the fact that I have the sustained ability to formulate clever sentences calmly and quickly in person or on paper, or perhaps, some of our African-American friends find no advantage in using it.

My extremely astute and educated guess is that there must be a cultural conceit amongst many African-Americans that making one's skin lighter in any way could be perceived by others in the community as selling out or turning freaky like Michael Jackson. The bad kind of freaky. The freaky without the deaky.

I also believe that in some cases, low contrast tattoos are desired so that the messages are encrypted to all but their intended recipients. This may be how some NFL players arrange their transactions in the underground economy. One can readily see the utility of an Adam "Pacman" Jones tattooing the name of a reputable kennel on his arm where only Michael Vick can see it up close and in a pile after a safety blitz.

Hope this helps.

More questions answered later, but right now I'm staring at a rudimentary page of What's Your Story script #5 that must be sanded and buffed to a commercial finish. Love ya!

SOUTHERN COMFORTABLE

The hell with holiday travel. I haven't left my house in 3 days. That's what Thanksgiving is all about. A chance to be openly depressed. The only reason I've showered is to get in some slap and tickle.

This is my first Thanksgiving in my own home in a decade. That's it. No more Thanksgiving travel for me for the next 5 years. If people in my life really like me, they'll show up.

My parents were the only ones who came this year. Not attending my Thanksgiving feast was the first thing my brother and his ex-wife have agreed upon since 2001, if I could brightside it.

My sister went to Jamaica for her father-in-law's wedding, which is OK, unless you consider it part of a continuing pattern of excuses, dating back to the days when I would lure her into the bathroom after I took a huge dump and locked her in with the odor, as to why she can't travel to Georgia more than once a decade. Maybe not a lot of flights here from NY.

Well, more food and fun for me.

Here's our premium quality, tightly cooped, genetically modified, assembly line slaughtered, frozen turkey.

Here's our turkey frying rig out back on the lush green barely legal lawn.

Old Man Pickle Nose prepares a post-breakfast snack. He's a good cook. His secret is aging. He treats every meal as if it could be his last.

We engage in sports.

Happy hour! Fresh guac and chips. I missed out because I was busy

Back to involvement in sports, and the film industry.

The two turkeys! HA! Brown and crispy, the way they serve it in heaven

Crispy potatoes. Don't they look good? Yeah, well, they were.

Crispy asparagus. I actually enjoy the smell my urine gives off after eating these.

Crispy cornbread stuffing. Tastes like manna, photographs like hell.

From scratch pecan/choco pie with a crispy crust and homemade caramel sauce spooged on it. One bite of this delight can supply the caloric needs of 10 children in Darfur for a month. It sure takes the pressure off the job search when you have this pie in the house.

Home made cranberry sauce with crispy bits of caramelized fruit. Oooh, doesn't that look tart and sweet? Yeah, you bet it does. It tastes like an orgasm. This is my contribution. I made it 3 days ago in the slow cooker. My secret is vanilla extract, brown sugar, and a special raisin wine from Spain. That's all I'm saying because I'm thinking of going national with this one day with a franchise chain of cranberry-centric eateries.

Cranny's. We'll even have a play area for kids with a giant cranberry bog they can swim around in after eating their cran-burgers and cran fries, and wash it down with some cranberry soda. We'll have cuddly characters like McDonald's has. Urethra the Clown will play up the cranberry's role in promoting urinary tract health.

Let the feast begin with a crispy turkey wing. The skin is like eating bacon. Turkey that tastes like bacon. Score! It's a club sandwich without those other non-essential ingredients. Fuck off toast, lettuce, cheese, and tomato.

Time for more athletics. Even OMPN is surprised at the ease with which the Falcons take it up the ass repeatedly.

Tea...because it gives the illusion of health.

Good night.

THE HAIRY EGG

Wanna see something weird?  Of course you do. That's why you come here. You have a Herculean appetite for the bizarre and profane.

This is the logo for my fantasy football team, The Fulton Jews:

It's a picture of Goldberg the Wrestler I found on the internets. Very fierce and intimidating. Part of the reason why my team is a respectable 3-8 this season.

This past weekend, I'm at a wedding. I come back to my table after pillaging the dessert table, and I see this:

I was a little drunk and this threw me off balance.  Back at the table, I traded my wife for two bridesmaids. Weird.

DIVERSE DISCRIMINATION

International Night at my daughter's school. I tell my girls it won't be fun. They don't listen.

First, we get there late and miss the International Foods Bazaar featuring homemade, indigenous treats, and I'm hungry. So hungry I almost ate 2 hour old unregulated Ethiopian food right out of some lady's crockpot.

It looked iffy, so I exercised restraint and went to a vending machine. There was a commotion around the corner. The International Rainbow of Diversity stage show was about to begin.

The show docket has the place buzzing. International dancing by the children and a lecture about the religion of Diversity by Bill Nigut! Who knew America was such a wonderful place? Everywhere around the world. They comin' to America!

Bill was a reporter for Channel 2 locally for a long time, and I've had him on my radio show. He at first strikes you as a nice guy, and there is no doubt in my mind that he is well-intentioned and means no harm. But the reality is that he wears thin after repeated meetings as he reveals himself to be the stereotypically dingy, guilt-ridden, uptight, Jewish liberal amongst whom I grew up, but without a well-developed humor gene.

He came to preach to us how race is not a big deal, but, it's A BIG DEAL!!!!!!

Due to the doctrines of Diversity, the seating is Who Concert style. Whose bright idea was it to make a restless crowd, filled with people from cultures where pushing and shoving are the norm, wait outside locked doors for 20 minutes? Of course, once inside, despite an obvious 2-1 ratio of people to seats, many feel it necessary to save seats for their same-skinded friends so they can sit together and learn about Diversity. We're packed in like political prisoners in a soccer stadium awaiting re-education. The hectoring begins only 25 minutes late, which is on time in the DPT (Diverse People's Time).

"I used to be on TV news for many years," Mr. Nigut, the Troy McClure of political correctness, tells the fidgety audience dressed in their hot, uncomfortable, and stupid looking native attire. "But it wasn't enough. I wanted to make MORE of a difference."

I guess he was frustrated in TV because of all those damn conservatives he worked with in the news room. Must have been hell, Bill.

How do you make more of a difference? Act crazier? I don't see any other way short of running for office. Bill is not running for office. He's running a guilt museum in Atlanta now and giving speeches to gullible school children about their skin color. He might as well molest them for all the good he's doing them.

"Let me tell you,  9/11 changed the world forever," he says.

This 9/11 of which you speak. Tell me more.

According to Bill, 9/11 was bad. But it was bad because it made the world more suspicious of Muslims.

OK. no. yeah. but. wait. like. and. such as. anyway. What about the Trade Center and all that?

"The vast majority......" he begins.

That's all I hear. I'm frying at this obnoxious waste of tax dollars.

The asininity of this idea is so profound that it should be a candidate for the first free speech to be made illegal. How does a guy get so selfish that he will roll his entire country under the bus so he can be viewed as a moral paragon? Then this ass-kissing coward stands there and basks in the applause from all the Islamics in the audience who saved seats to be near each other and talk in another tongue.

But it's NOT ENOUGH! Always seeking to make more of a difference,  Bill then leads this great, blatant, pandering cheer where he mentions every religion and geo-political skin tone he can think of and exhorts each minority group to cheer for itself.

And that's when I took the last hinge off this fragile jerk's door without saying a word.

He continues his apologetic speech. "Ya see, I grew up in an all-white school..."

I clapped a lame little clap. Yay!  My turn to be special.

This makes Bill stop. He turns and points in the general area of where I'm sitting. He's upset at this non-consensual race-cheering.

"Ya know, if that's your thought process, I don't want you in here," he scolds. So much for diversity of opinion...and to hell with humor. Hey, this was fun, Bill.

My wife digs her heel into my foot.

"You're starting a race riot in here." she hisses. And my foot is the brake?

So with everyone--Bill, the audience, me, and my family--all in agreement,  we cut out of the Remains of the International Day and head to our favorite Indian restaurant where they treat us like goddamn royalty.

WHAT'S YOUR STORY #4

MAKE ME WET

What is it Thursday? Only took me 3 days to recover from the past weekend in Las Vegas. Not bad for going to bed at 1pm last Saturday. After that refreshing nap/sleep it was off to the Palms Hardwood Suite for a 40th birthday party of a pal which lasted until 3am Sunday morning.

I've been to parties that had a basketball court, and I've been to parties in hotel rooms, but never to a party in a hotel room that had a basketball court inside it off the living room.

The entire hotel room is bigger than my home.

I think I did a pretty good job on attire for such a unique event.

The sporty sweater and tasteful jeans say: "I'm eager to have conversation and cocktails."

The sneakers and t-shirt underneath say: "But I'm ready to drain some 3-pointers if necessary."

What are the statistics on hotel rooms being broken into that have their TVs left on? I take it on faith that doing this deters criminals and degenerates, but I'd like to see the numbers to back it up.

I don't think it works if you leave it on any channel. A criminal is not so stupid to think that a Vegas tourist is going to sit in their hotel room on a Saturday night watching the hotel services channel or CNN when all kinds of funs are going on outside, so I put it on ESPN before I set off--LOUD--because it's more plausible that a degenerate gambler could be in the room catching up on college football.

Las Vegas, being a mecca for terrorists looking for a little fun before blowing up some building in the name of Allah, has some of the scrutiniest airport security in the US. The lines are snakes before they get on the plane.

I was detained at McCarren Airport briefly Sunday because the woman with the lip mole and heavy accent at the security bottle neck was confused that the "Lawrence Wachs" on my driver's license, and the "Larry Wachs" on my boarding pass didn't match up.

ME: Larry is a nickname for Lawrence.

HER: Yes, but they are not the same.

ME: It's like Bobby is short for Robert. BTW, you might notice that the face and the last name all match up.

HER: But one says Larry and the other says Lawrence.

LADY BEHIND ME: It's like Robert and Bob.

HER: Is this your wife?

ME: No. She's an American. Everyone knows this.

HER: I am American, too (but she said it like a vampire would).

...and zzzziiip....out comes the nylon barrier. Now, I've gone and done it.

She went to see her supervisor for some guidance on American nomenclature, came back with her tail between her legs, but no apology, and let me proceed for another 23 minutes of line before I could get out of Vegas.

Again, I must ask. Where's the danger in nicknames?

I must say a trip to the desert really gives perspective on the drought situation here in GA. I saw no one in Las Vegas praying for anything but a gambling victory or avoiding an STD. Water was not discussed at all despite the eternal drought outside.

I do believe in the power of prayer and faith. I don't know exactly the chain of events prayer touches off to yield results, but I have a notion that it's similar to the "monkeys with typewriters" effect. If you put enough minds to work meditating on a single problem, somebody's liable to stumble upon a solution.

But the Governor leading a prayer for water is really asinine. What are we?  Whoville? 

Praying for rain is the wrong prayer, too. I'd pray for grass and flowers that don't need rain or for the skies to open up and drop Purell and good red wine on us on Sundays. Maybe war on on Alabama and Florida. As long as we're throwing a Hail Mary, let's aim for the end zone, you people.

As a voter, I'm concerned when an elected leader uses prayer as a first resort to fixing a practical problem. Why vote? Just install gypsy fortune tellers or Creflo Dollar as governor. His rainmaking is legendary.

I could understand if we were being overrun with zombies. When that day comes, I will stand with the Governor, humble before the Lord. I promise you.

But water is everywhere. It's just trapped under regulation and politics. Is it that hard to make the case that an inedible mollusk in Florida is less important than a nice shower and shvitz for 25 minutes? That's what fighting is for. Prayer, in this case, communicates surrender to the obstacles and a neglect of reason.

Oh, wait! It rained a 10th of an inch last night. Sweet vindication from our Father! This drought will be over in just 7 quick years.

Hey governor! I'm tired of walking upright. How about another prayer?

WHAT'S NOT YOUR STORY #1

Starting today, I think it'll be fun to post the rejected stories from this week's What's Your Story episode. #4 is being shot tomorrow and will be online Friday. Final script was turned in this morning, and so now I present a new feature on the HOW website:

What's Not Your Story--The Outtakes!

What you'd pay extra for if you bought the DVD of this website, is FREE!

And as soon as I can figure out a way to change that, I will. But for now, take advantage.

These were rejected for a variety of reasons. Too dark, too mean, too long, too porny, too unfunny, too old, too libelous, etc. In other words, perfect for the internet. I know SuperDeluxe.com is on the internet, too, but they're on a different level of internet with standards and commerce and hits and all. So now, I take you to that other place on the internet, The Island of Misfit Stories, for our inaugural "What's NOT Your Story" #1

OCTOPUSSY

In India, a 2-year old girl with 4 arms and 4 legs had 2 of each removed last week.

A team of Indian surgeons worked on little Lakshmi around the clock until they had successfully chewed off her extraneous extremities.

Sorry for playing designated driver here during all the celebration, but It seems to me we are playing a dangerous game of god when we cut the limbs off of giant spiders and hope they blend in with human society.

It only sets the spiders up for failure, and where are these surgeons then?  Skipping off to their next case of social engineering not caring about the consequences.

I hope they at least let this little gal keep the pointy scales on her back and her prehensile tail. Maybe then society can start to recoup it's dignity

THE LITTLE ENGINE THAT COULD DATE RAPE

Popular children’s toy Aqua-Dots were pulled from store shelves last week for fear they contain the date rape drug GHB.

According to the Consumer Products Safety Commission, each year 100,000 children are date-raped by toys. Play-date rape is not new.

You'll recall in 1987 when Milton Bradley pulled the game, "Mystery Date Rape" from the shelves, and protest in 1994 brought the same fate to Mattel's Binky Suckin' Barbie and Wham-O's Slip-N-Slide

Experts say the toys use fun and bright colors to entice the children. Sometimes the toys take the children to nice restaurants and pressure them.

Kids, say no to strangers when they offer toys made out of steak and lobster.

THE WAITER’S STRIKE

(Video of wacky Writer's Striker)

No wonder terrorists love Hollywood people. They don't know how to fight back.

Where I come from, if someone is taking money out of your pocket and cocaine off your table, that's a big problem.

It's never solved by people with funny signs and wigs who rap with the inefficiency of a white person.

Meanwhile, the producers are eating a nice filet with peppercorn sauce discussing a new reality show with Mark Burnett while both are in a hot tub at the Palms in Vegas having their backs washed by two young ladies supplementing their income from college cheerleading.

And they are all laughing at you up on the 40” plasma screen.

Someone needs to cook that juicy cut of beef, and clean up the hotel suites for those people. Those someones are you, my writer friends.

How badly do you want your 4 more cents for a DVD? How far will you go to get residuals from the internet that you deserve? Who amongst you will be first to openly dip his penis in a glass of producer ordered iced tea?

Go ahead. Make my day, Rosebud. Can you handle the truth?

Show yourself the money.

SIX FLAGS OVER HILLARY

(video of flags falling behind Hillary Clinton)

Graphic video here of Hillary Clinton’s brush with death.

Watch here as Mrs. Clinton and her diverse lesbian friend, Huma, narrowly escape being crushed by these falling flags.

It would have been the first pole to touch Hillary since college.

“Who tried to kill my sister?”

Over on Capitol Hill,  a furious wicked witch of the West, house speaker Nancy Pelosi,  immediately launched an investigation into the owner of the flags.

Mrs. Pelosi is right. This was no accident. Someone is trying to bury Mrs. Clinton with the American flag. Fortunately for her, and the nation, Mrs. Clinton will not allow the American flag to interfere with her quest for the US Presidency.

PRESIDENT PERV

Pakistan is being overcome with Al-Qaeda and Taliban again, and Paki president Perv (The Uncle) Musharraf has suspended their constitution...like they had one.

I'm all for democracy in the middle east, but we're skipping a crucial step, and that's why this thing is dragging on.

In order to have democracy, you have to have sanity and humility. The Muslims are the pit bulls of people. Yes, some of them can be quite loving and gentle. But...

It's all about them and their 72 virgins.

Well, who doesn't want 72 virgins? So selfish.

And if you stopped wrapping up your women like mummies and beating them with sticks, you'd probably get some action in this life!

What we must do is convert them to a better religion such as Judaism. They still don't have to eat pork, but they'll learn to behave.

Round 'em up, give 'em a choice. We cut your head or your foreskin. Your move, Mohammed!

MYSELF, HELLO?

Is there anything funnier than 2 old rich jews bitching at each other?

(Seinfeld clip)

"Don't you know who I am?"

The sad answer Seinfeld, is no. Larry King has no idea who you are. He's 172 years old and he doesn't care about anything but his prostate.

He's also a praying mantis. A very smart praying mantis.

And his audience is just as old as he is and confuses you with that handsome young man on the Wonder Years.

So Larry is just setting the scene for the old folks who watch while getting diapered for the evening.

Eat some cereal, Seinfeld, and calm down.

ABSTAINING FROM LOGIC

Here's a nice and stupid headline:

Report: Abstinence programs don't work

Yeah, they do. How does this idea get published? Not doing something results in more of the activity?  Try it sometime. See how many chicks you get preggers when you don't have sex with them. I'm interested.

Of course a program doesn't work if people aren't sticking with it. It's not the program's fault. Do these social scientists blame the treadmill for not being trod upon when someone is obese?

The study found that while abstinence-only efforts appear to have little positive impact, more comprehensive sex education programs were having "positive outcomes" including teenagers "delaying the initiation of sex, reducing the frequency of sex, reducing the number of sexual partners and increasing condom or contraceptive use."

Oy vey! The elusiveness of simplicity. When you give people something for free, they will use more of it. And the more people engage in an activity, the better the odds that something will go awry.

Think of sex as donut holes instead. If the newspaper said, "People eating less holes," you'd rightly conclude that the culprit for this was abstinence from eating donut holes.

And if some expert said, "Well, the reason people are eating less holes is because the government is giving them free liposuction," you'd think him batshit.

Abstinence works. Ya just gotta do it. Or not do it...whatever.

WHAT'S YOUR STORY #3 - TROUBLE IN PARADISE

Hope you kids can get past the nettlesome security that they've put up for this epithet laden episode. Don't click if you're not 18!!!!!

A MOCKERY OF MOCKERY

Genius! NBC is preaching about global warming while my toes are purple from the night cold. They're doing their Green Week, and I guess it must be sound environmental practice to destroy shows so no one will want to see them resulting in energy savings. I think NBC is possibly behind the writer's strike to save paper. Well, I'm with the writers now.

Every goddamn comedy I like, from "Earl" to "The Office" ( I didn't see Scrubs because Zach Braff minces over my every last nerve ending, and since Clooney left, ER is a shell I tell ya), but every show bore the stamp of a corporate memo from some asshole who thought it'd be nifty to pay homage to the ultra-preachy religion of environmentalism by requiring each program to throw environmental grit into it's comedy gears. Bring back "Muslim Week!" Anything.

Hey, broadcasters! Guess what? Environmentalism = shit programming. You want to ruin a TV channel? Find another one. Get some puppets. Put the logo on candy wrappers. Kids don't care. They're stupid and will watch anything. But as an adult, after a hard day of trying to find more work, I want to sit down to some raunchy entertainment, and laugh at it until my bladder has emptied. Why not start "Tom Green Week?" You'd sure win back a lot of people and still get them to think of green.

Even Al Gore showed up to mock himself on 30 Rock, and before you imagine yourself giving a collegial pat on the back to ole Albert for being so open-minded, ask yourself this. What's his deal? He's always popping up on comedy shows to mock his image, yet he's mocking the same rhetoric he makes at serious functions. It's really strange the pretzels that people become when they try to reconcile their politics with their personal behavior.

I suppose we're in for a lot of that in the next year, what with Ms. Rodham trying to get her "husband" Bill a 3rd term. What's Your Story #3 starts the countdown to next November with the results of a new Hillary Clinton survey that busts right through the bread and into the meaty center of this shit sandwich of a campaign.

Also, Amy Winehouse presents her peer-reviewed journalistic singing about the effects of cocaine and liquor mixed regularly inside of a skinny young lady, and has Dog the Bounty Hunter become Dog the N*****R Hunter? Check it out Friday morning on What's Your Story?" I'll have the video here, too, when the Turner Studios people have posted it.

NATTERING NABOBS OF NEGATIVITY

Sad, really.

The National Association of Black Owned Broadcasters is renewing its call for Arbitron to postpone its PPM rollout plan to new markets until it corrects "significant flaws" with the methodology. NABOB's Jim Winston says the just-released New York data is "even worse" for urban and Hispanic stations than the Philadelphia and Houston PPM numbers. He says "Declines this substantial raise serious issues about who and what is actually being measured."

The PPM, is a new ratings system from Arbitron which uses electronic devices to record what people are actually listening to instead of the paper diaries used for decades. These paper diearies resulted in people "voting" for their favorite stations instead of writing down what they are listening to. Try keeping track one day, down to 15 minute increments, what you listened to or watched on TV for one week. It's impossible to be accurate.

This new system, in the 3 markets it's been used thus far, has resulted in black and hispanic themed stations to plunge in the ratings. Rock, Adult hits, Pop hits, and talk have made significant gains. The new system is flawed, but a vast improvement is what it is over the paper honor system. A racial plot is what it's not, and I think it's rather sad that the minority broadcasters have used that as the implied theme to their public rhetoric. Was it fair when a station that broadcasts to 3% of a metro's population routinely garnered as much as 5 times that in audience share under the paper system?

Watch what happens when this system comes to Atlanta in 2009. Oh, the whining that will come when V103, traditionally 1 or 2 every year for the past decade, despite increasing competition in their format, plunge to 7 or 8. Still not bad, but tragic for people used to a directed outcome as opposed to a level playing field.

It was so nice inside that NABubble, wasn't it?

TODAY'S TOM SAWYER...

...he gets high on you.

And the role is being played by...

JT WU?!?

WILL WORK FOR MONEY

An associate of mine called me from his car as he was driving around Los Angeles. I could hear shouting in the background.

"What's that noise?"

"I'm stopped at a light and the writers are protesting."

"Are they protesting you?"

"I'm not sure."

"What are they shouting?"

"4 Cents on a DVD? Are you kidding me?"

All those Hollywood writers, and that's the best they could do?  Wow. Might want to first do a table read next time before hitting the streets, fellas.

If 4 cents per DVD in residuals sucks, then what's good? 5 cents? 50 cents? How many writers are worth even the 4 cents?

Now before this strike gets out of hand and all but guarantees that our favorite TV shows will be gone for awhile, and that every movie next summer will be about exploding robots, I would like all Hollywood and TV people reading this to know something.

It would really be unfair to Americans who depend on Jimmy Kimmel and 30 Rock for sustenance to go without them.

I just want you to know that on "What's Your Story?" I write the whole show. I know it's not long, but bear in mind that I also direct it, I find all the video, I do all the editing, and the swirly computer graphics.

I recorded the theme music in my basement with a full orchestra, which is my hobby.

I bring in the lights and camera from home that I paid for out of my own money.

I'm the real deal, and I'd love to be your scab. If those other guys don't want the job, for whatever reason. I'm happy to take it. 

I even bought my own work clothes.

Email me for my digits.

DOTDOTDOTDOTTERINGOLDFOOL

How about that Larry King? Claims he was swindled out of 15 mil in an insurance scam. I'm willing to bet it happened during his show, too. Go through the tapes and see if a caller ever pitched him on life insurance. You'll see.

How can you ever believe any of Larry King's interviews anymore? He's obviously gullible. He has such a tangible lack of judgment. What kind of trustworthy person with a passion for "what makes people tick" loses 15 MILLION DOLLARS? Good luck to him trying to get another taste of his 40-year old poonie from here on out.

There's no telling what kind of monkey business with the truth his guests are going to pull now. Next thing you know, Jeanine Garofalo will convince him that she's the new president of  Burma. For the love of Ariel Sharon! He's gonna have to have at least 4 guests now for every show about a controversial topic to make sure the truth is covered somewhere. Oh, wait!

What was long suspected has now been confirmed. Larry King IS a highly developed praying mantis...from Brooklyn.

In honor of Larry's style, this Larry is going to do that Larry's type of random thoughts dotdotdot blog entry, and also I must  finish up and hand in this week's What's Your Story scripts, so little time to waste. Man, I love when bloggers publish excuses for why they're not handing out more of their work for FREE to you slobs. Don't you?

DOTDOTDOTDIRT

Why is a brown lawn considered being green? Why are people who are in favor of being green AGAINST greenhouse gasses? It's right there --g-r-e-e-n- house. Mighty, Mighty.

DOTDOTDOTONTHELOT

I got a call today for another extra part in a Tyler Perry production. This time, I'm up for the part of "FBI MAN." That's all I know. My guess is that I'm not a good guy.

I'm 2 for 2 now with the Tyler Perry people. They love me. Maybe I'll get a few lines soon. Maybe the "FBI MAN" will have to bodily restrain Nia Peeples or Pebbles or some hottentot hottie of that level. Yum!

The other TP production I was in was "Why Did I Get Married?" now showing in hotel rooms across America. Go see it. I'm not. My wife suggested we pay good money to go to the theater to catch the back of my jacket scooting along behind the actors in a scene that may not even have made it, because it didn't sound that funny when they were doing it. No, I'm going to steal the DVD from Blockbuster like I always do when I feel I'm entitled to do so.

DOTDOTDOTHEAD

Pakistan is being overcome with Al-Qaeda and Taliban vermin again, and has suspended their constitution...like they really had one. It bears repeating that the only way to bring the democratic process to their shores is to force them into a new religion. I'm a little biased, but I say the best thing is to convert them all to Judaism. It's a halfway house to the Christianity they need but is too strong a dose of sanity and humility for them right now. They can still avoid pork products if they wish, and have big noses, while they practice calm and try to wriggle free from the steel grip of the 10th century.

Round 'em all up and give 'em a choice. We cut off your head or your foreskin. Yee ha!

THE STING OF FAIL

Didja see Bee Movie? It stars Jerry Seinfeld as a cartoon bee.

Jerry Seinfeld should be BEE-headed! Ha! Instant classic!

I hate it when male comedians get married and have kids. They get religion on parenting from their gold-diggers, and then the public has to suffer through the "home movies" stage of their careers, a.k.a. the end.

Seinfeld, listen. You don't see Barney getting lost in parking garages or having masturbation contests. Just do what you do.

The premise of the movie is that bees should have a say in what happens with their honey. Ridiculous. That's like getting a happy ending and demanding a take out box of the mess in case you decide to have a child one day.

I hate bees. I only tolerate them because they make honey, Cheerios, and nasal spray. If it weren't for that, they'd be useless. They'd be like Arabs without oil. Stinging Arabs.

And now, witness the Defensive Bee Dance.

BYE'ERS REMORSE

An increasing number of people I speak with on the phone have some sort of nifty little sign-off before they hang up.

One guy I know says, "Cheers!" because it's his favorite show.

Another guy I know says, "Rock on!" because he admires the music of David Essex.

More people have a simple and snappy "later tater" or "Bingo!"--something of that genre.

I tried out a few sign-offs of my own for a time.

"That was hot. Lemme go clean myself up," was a fave, but you know what? It just wasn't me, so I dialed it down a bit, and now I end most calls with a comfortable "take 'er slow pardner."

My goal is to eventually not do a sign-off at all when I use the phone. If I can pull it off, It'll be a great time saver.

If you added up the minutes you spent telling people goodbye, and the lead-up to goodbye, where you give a brief recap of the conversation...

"...so I guess I'll see you in the morning in the lobby of the clinic. Oh, hey...don't forget to bring your half of the money. Righty-O. mmmmmbye-bye."

...it probably adds up to a good month out of each year. A whole month that could be spent on more productive things, such as getting to traffic court on time, or being part of a focus group, is spent on gently weaning ultra-sensitive people off a forgettable chat with you.

When I'm done saying what I have to say and hearing what I have to hear, I'd like to, ideally, just  hang up immediately. No cheery sign-off. No drama. Here's a fictitious example:

(ring)

A FICTITIOUS FRIEND: Hello?

ME: Is this my man, 7?

FICTITIOUS FRIEND: Yeah.

ME: This is 0254. How much for 25 CDs?

FICTITIOUS FRIEND: 2 dollars

ME: Are you nuts? 2 dollars for 25 CDs?

FICITIOUS FRIEND: These are chart-toppers, brah. You in the record club or you out the record club?

ME: In.

(click)

In command. So un-needy. No weaknesses. That CD vendor will think twice before messing around and shorting me any bags of CDs.

I don't do it much because I haven't worked up the emotional courage it takes to hang up abruptly on people when the meat of the conversation is through and they want to start in with the conversational sorbet.  Particularly family members.  They would totally misinterpret my hang-up, thinking I was going to berate them when I arrived home, and it wouldn't save anytime because they'd only call back and ask in a quivering voice, "Is everything OK?"

You know those Cingular TV commercials where one party loses the call and the other person gets the wrong impression? They are my worst nightmare. One look at Debbie Clemens' eyes, and I'm screaming at the TV, "No, Roger, she DOESN'T  want you to play! God DAMN!" That poor woman. All that money and alone. Straight to the refrigerator for some Tylenol PM and Limoncello, or else I'm getting no sleep that night.

I'll be honest. I'm looking up at Everest here in my quest. Even the toughest Marine says, "Over."