Escape From the Scooby Doo Mansion

Dudes + Cats

2009-07-23T22:45:00.004-05:00

Rad or Sad?

2009-07-18T13:36:00.013-05:00

Getting your metal on with your friends is rad.

Sloppy emo kid PDA is sad.

Bein' free & easy is rad.

Getting your ass kicked outside of McDonald's is sad.

Having your Misfits poster survive Katrina is rad.

Ewwwwww! Licking your mom is SO sad, not rad. That's my job, dude.

Feats of strength are rad. Especially when you didn't know you had it in you.

Halloween DJs who are trying too hard are sad.

Rad.

Not even the fuzzy blue toilet seat cover and going to make this not sad.

Ok, I'll admit it. This is pretty rad. Well played, sir.

Imaginary friends are sad.

Being well-stocked with toilet paper is rad.

The inevitable loss of innocence is sad.

Garden gnomes who are comfortable getting glam are rad.

Sitting alone in the dark, obsessively checking your friends' facebook statuses is sad. Don't ask me how I know about that.

This was the all-time raddest night of this young man's life.

The side-effects of mixing alcohol and red bull are sad.

Having the courage to have your photo taken holding your yippy little dog in front of another photo of yourself wearing a cardigan and bowtie is rad, rad, rad.

Drunken coding is sad.

Sorry, pal. I can't quite give you a "rad" on this one. Try again later.

Sadder than Ol' Yeller.

Being an enthusiastic eater is rad.

Dental fail = sad.

This is rad as fuck. Don't tell me it ain't.

Things that are closed are sadder than Wilford Brimley's diabetes.

Dominoes and beer are rad.

If I say this is sad, I'm a dead man.

Basement show, chick with an SG and a Youth of Today shirt... well, what do think I'm gonna say, numbnuts -- of course it's rad!

Saving yourself for the President of Argentina is sad.

Whether you're seeking business or pleasure, these rad dudes have got you covered.

Pre-canned whiskey products are sadder than Cypher in the Snow.

Celebrating your birthday under the watchful eye of Bruce Lee is so damned rad.

This is sadder than a Clown College dropout.

Too much metal for one hand is rad.

Having maple syrup poured on you while you're passed out is sad. Trust me on this one.

Rastafarian Welsh Nationalist Ninjas are rad.

Failing at walking in the park is sad.

Scoring cold, hard cash is rad.

Whore-o-ween is sad. Although, I'm sure the dude in the picture will disagree with that assessment.

I don't know what the hell to think of this. I need to know what the backstory is here.

Being restrained by your buddies from punching some chick in face is really, really sad.

Have a rad Pride Month

2009-06-19T09:30:00.004-05:00

After a long day of fighting the forces of evil and unfabulousness, Captain Rainbow likes to just kick back on a hideous, hideous couch.

Brokeback Mountain would have been so much better if it had featured these dudes.

Love Doug, love his feral cat.

You tell 'em, Captain Rainbow.

Apparently real unicorns actually piss rainbows. And real men are totally cool with that.

Oh yes.
Oh no.
If you haven't figured out exactly what happens in the midnight hour at St. Ignatius College Prep by now, I'm not going to be the one to explain it to you. Ask Doug.

Once you go centaur, you never go back.

Awwww.

Is this Iowa? No, it's heaven.

2009-06-12T18:59:00.010-05:00

You know you're in heaven when you see office supply salesmen from 1983 walking straight out of the sunset... and he's totally glowing, dude.

In heaven, I finally have that recording contract. Oh yeah.

In heaven, dudes with pipes and leather elbow patches rule the mean streets, yo.

In heaven, I am the master of my domain. If you know what I'm saying.

In heaven, wolves, cougars, and eagles live in awesome majestic harmony.

In heaven, monkeys feed you pudding.

In heaven, Abraham Lincoln and Kurt Russel are pretty much the same dude. And they both escape from L.A.

In heaven, those damned kids stay offa my lawn like I tell 'em.

In heaven, this is a totally legitimate way to save a cat's life.

In heaven, you get to hang with Burt any time you want. And he's always wearing a tux.

In heaven, you are still every bit as awesome as you were in 1985.

In heaven, I can grow a sweet handlebar 'stache and I have a limitless supply of PBR tallboys. In heaven, the ladies love both.

In heaven, dudes have their priorities straight. And again, the ladies approve.

In heaven, even the snowmen get lucky once in a while. You go, Frosty.

In heaven, my band rocks your ass EVERY EFFING NIGHT!

In heaven, we don't need no stinking helmet laws.

In heaven, dogs don't need to be spayed or neutered.

In heaven, the whores at Knott's Berry Farm are so much more than animatronic.

In heaven, everyone can breakdance like Gonzo.

In heaven, every dude gets a rad sequined flag vest and every lady gets to caress the buff result.

In heaven, wookies and humans can express their freaky, freaky love freely and without judgment.

Welcome to my Nightmares

2009-06-08T17:36:00.008-05:00

Friends, I'm not going to lie to you. You are seeing one tired-ass pirate trying to post right now. I'm tired because I haven't been sleeping well, and I'm not sleeping well because of the damned nightmares. Lemme share some of them with ya:

When I was a wee l'il pirate, my mom forbid me from seeing scare movies because they might give me bad dreams. But somehow, "Bambi II: The Revenge" slipped right past her.

If you don't share my deep-seated dread of disembodied, soft-focus Persian Kitten heads, you simply aren't doing enough hallucinagens.

In my nightmares, these dudes are always working out at my gym.

In my nightmares, I show up at a really cool basement party wearing a clown sweater. Oh wait, that really happened.

You better effing believe I'm being stalked by a giant rabbit in my nightmares. But I'm not going to let that get in the way of special friendship with Carl here. We've got something beautiful.

In my nightmares, Saturday night is Grandma's beard-washin' night.

In my nightmares, I'm stuck at a party with these people; there's nothing to drink but warm Zima; and Nickelback is on the stereo.

In my nightmares, The Hoff is allowed near small puppies.

Okay kid, you're going to have to trust me on this one: whatever you do, do not turn around, because if you do, you will piss those fire engine red trousers of yours.

Aw crap, he turned around. Oh the humanity.

Something tells me this isn't going to end well either.

Great leapin' lizards, there's that damned rabbit again! Run, children, run to the hills! Run for your lives!

In my nightmares, I'm being chased by Jesus in Nikes and he's got a posse of angry, angry santas with him.

In my nightmares, this guy completes my annual performance review.

In my nightmares, doctors will perform a surgery that will literally move your ass to the front of your legs. It's called the B.I.F. (Butt in Front) procedure. P.S. I guess what they say about horizontal stripes making you look fat is true.

That's okay. Smiling is totally for suckwads anyhoo.

Wow. These are really going to have an aerodynamic advantage over me when we have that Big Wheels race down Summit Hill.

President Palin. 'Nuff said.

These dudes pretty much provide the funky soundtrack to my nightmares.

I thought my childhood meeting with Spiderman was going to be a dream come true, but it turned into a nightmare pretty damned fast. And no, I don't want to talk about it.

In my nightmares, I've really really really got to go, only to find some hipster passed on the bog mid-crap.

The other thing that's worse is opening the bathroom door to see this going on.

Oh, the adventures I've had

2009-06-07T15:41:00.008-05:00

Don't remind me that it's been a while. That's like reminding James Brown that he, in fact, is the Godfather of Soul. The good news is that I am neither dead nor in jail. Where've I been? What have I been up to? Well, sit down before ya fall down and let me tell you all about what I've been up to:

I went to a rave in Pakistan.

I knitted you a sweater. Hope you like it.

I got Thor's autograph! Friggin' God of Thunder himself, dude!

I got a job with UPS. That didn't quite work out.

I got caught up on some reading. I fell a little behind on shirt-wearing however.

I got a haircut.

I got shipwrecked on a desert island. There I befriended a cougar named Barnabas.

I saw this rad barn owl who totally twisted this dude's neck like it was a lid to a pickle jar.

I flew my kite.

I spent some "me time" out on the balcony, just catching some rays and letting the wind blow through my mane-like head of hair.

I kicked this guy's ass. Hard. Don't tell me he didn't have it coming.

I started my fashion-designing and modeling career. Trust me, everybody's going to be wearing my rad threads by this time next year.

I was a jaunty man-about-town.

But mostly, I was just chillin'.

Guerilla Punk Rock Shows + Taco John's = Greatest Music Video Ever?

2009-03-05T19:40:00.002-06:00

I didn't know Eau Claire had it in 'em

Is this lazy blogging? Damn right it is. Guess what? I've been kinda busy. Plus, I do most of my communicating with the human species via Facebook these days and that's where a lot of my semi-clever shit ends up. I'll try to neglect the blog a little less in the future, but I ain't makin' any promises. If you're really bored and have a strong stomach, check out my man Butchie the Minx (warning: totally NSFW).

This pretty much sums up my day today.

2008-12-24T22:02:00.002-06:00

This is how the nephews and I like to kick it on Christmas Eve.

P.S. I forgot to include this in my last post:

Merry #@*!%!$! Hannachristkwanzaamaskuh

2008-12-20T16:32:00.006-06:00

It's not a huge secret that I don't especially love Christmastime, or the other assorted winter holidays associated with peoples who will surely burn in the lake of fire rather than enjoying leisurely dinosaur rides with Jesus after they die. I think mostly what I don't like is the atmosphere of mandatory cheer. That, and the nearly inescapable barrage of pro-Christmas propaganda. I have some sympathy for what it might be like to live in a one-party state where every room has a picture of Glorious Leader in it. However, the good news is that celebrating the berfday of sweet baby Jesus leads to the kind of inadvertent hilarity that we like to celebrate around here. So, on that note, enjoy:

This pretty much speaks for itself as far as I'm concerned.

Hey, what's up with the human kid? I think Mrs. Predator's been getting a little action on the side.

Will do, Governor!

Yeah, yeah. I know. I ran this one a few posts ago. Still damn sexy.

Damn. That ladymanlady's got a rack!

Bossletoe!

Ladies, Here's How To Meet A Guy Who Wears Cosby Sweaters

2008-12-17T23:02:00.001-06:00

Sorry, I can't go out tonight. I've got Awesomeness practice.

2008-12-17T19:02:00.004-06:00

Listen, I'm stick and tired of just being cool. Anybody can be cool. Just ask my new favorite author and awesomeness coach, Lorraine Peterson (author of If God Loves Me, Why Can't I Get My Locker Open? and If the Devil Made You Do It, You Blew It! (But It Doesn't Need to Happen Again). I want to be awesome, dammit!

So, I started taking awesomeness lessons. They've been pretty challenging, but I think I'm starting to get my head around some of the concepts. For example, to be truly awesome it is very important that you get an awesome sweater. I had no idea. All this time, I've been wearing t-shirts for crappy punk rock bands and merely being cool. Well, the secret is out. Watch out, Bill Cosby! Another thing, you need to have a small, multiracial cadre of adoring followers who will hang on your every awesome word, and basically just reflect and magnify your awesomeness. They need sweaters, too. I've got all kinds of friends, but the adoring part is going to take some time. That, and getting them to wear sweaters like all the time. Finally, I'm growing to understand that if you want to be awesome, it is vitally important to do everything you can to look like a young John Tesh.

I can't tell you precisely what goes on at Awesomeness practice, Lorraine said she would split my frickin' skull open like an overripe melon if I did, but trust me: it's some pretty wild stuff.

So you go ahead without me tonight. Go on with your life, content to merely be cool. I'm gonna keep practicing being awesome.

Montage? Hell no, we're bringing you the MANtage!

2008-11-28T22:17:00.001-06:00

See more funny videos at Funny or Die

H-Lo's Profound Annoyance is the Glue that Binds This Post Together

2008-11-25T18:57:00.014-06:00

Because she's cute when she's mad.

My friend H-Lo is an awesome writer and editor. Which is why she's going to love seeing these pictures:

Umm, actually, I'm gonna pass. Thanks anyways.

That Bryan Ferry sure is an enterprising fella.

Again, gonna have to pass. Sorry.

Why am I not surprised?

I don't know about you, but I think that Cindy Petit is precisely the kind of leadership our school board needs. My only question is "Kid's first what?"

I think about 45% of this list describes me (maybe more if I could get a proper definition of "high fullutent"). The other 55% probably describes you.
See you in hell.

Alright, already! Sheesh, how many times do I have to apologize for that one time? Gimme a break, man.

That's right, all doughnuts must be paid for before you engage in activity that somebody else might describe as "eating them."

See, even those high fullutent, man-hating, uppity broads with hairy armpits make horrible, embarrassing grammatical errors. It's not their fault, really. They're brains are only one-third the size of a man's. That's just science.
This public service announcement has been brought to you by some guy in a greasy t-shirt from 1978.
Umm, I just consulted to Southern to Midwestern dictionary, and I believe this sign roughly translates as "Please to be making arrest of motion now, await making of happy time. We honor your mother's big toe."
Or something like that. I only took one year of Southern in high school, so I could be wrong.

H-Lo is also an animal lover.
Well, maybe not so much with the cats.
Lady, you need to slowly put the cat down and come towards us with your hands where we can see them. We can help you.

Mee. Yow.

Hello... umm... kitty?

I'm not sure how I feel about Donny Darko kitty.

Again... Mee. Yow.
However, I can't approve of Django Rheinhart kitty highly enough.

I can only hope and pray to the flying spaghetti monster that someday my image will be immortalized on a cat's ass.

Little known fact: H-Lo likes to rock it, metal-style

I don't know if Doug Henning annoys H-Lo or not, but I'm gonna bet he does.

Suck it, Somali pirates - I'm putting a new crew together!

2008-11-22T18:10:00.010-06:00

In case you've been in a coma for the past few weeks, people from my line of work have been in the news a little bit. Specifically, a bunch of Somali pirates captured an supertanker with $100 million worth of crude oil on board. Okay, I'll admit it: I'm a little impressed. But seriously, get a load of these guys:

For starters, what's going on the automatic weaponry? We're pirates, dammit. We jam econo, we party black powder. Second, where's the style? Where's the panache? I guess I can give the guy with the walkie-talkie a few points for wearing cop glasses, me + T-Roy style. Seriously dude, why put a dinner napkin on your head when you could be wearing a tri-corn hat with a Jolly Roger on it? Hell, you just scored a $100 million - it's not like you can't go buy a new wardrobe.

At any rate, with these two-bit amateurs cutting into my business, I took a long, hard look around my ship and realized that my current crew just wasn't cutting it. I mean, take a look at these losers:
This guy was just murder on our dental plan.

Pretty damned hard to swing a cutlass when you're knitting eyepatches all the time.

I don't know what was going on with these ladies. I mean, they were always saying stuff like "Hey pirate, I think you should check out my belowdecks," or "Oh pirate, I'd wish you'd shiver my timbers once in a while," or "Oh pirate, I'd like to walk your plank." I could never figure out what the hell they were talking about. Really annoying. I've got a pirate ship to run here, people. Plus they totally depleted our rum rations in the first week at sea.

Sister Hook was just too badass for us to handle. She scared the beejeebers out of me.

This guy was a damned good accountant but he wasn't all that great of a pirate.

Cyborg Pirate Ninja Jesus was a real pain in the ass. We're just pirates on this ship, no need to throw in all this extra cyborg-ninja-deity incarnate crapola. Plus, everybody knows that pirates and ninjas don't mix.

Although I admire this ex-pirate's ability to travel back in time to make friends with a younger Stephen Colbert, Cap'n Neckbeard Veststain just wasn't cut out for life on the high seas.

So it was heave-ho for the lot of them.

Time to start fresh.
Time to think outside the pirate box.
Time to get incredible.

First things first, I'd like to unveil my new ship:

I've been working on it in the basement for the past two years. And yes, it does double as a bunkbed. Thanks for asking.

And here's the new crew:

Cap'n Flash. Scourge of the seven seas. Can clear the decks of Spanish galleon with one ear-splitting howl.

Midshipman Grimscowl. Don't ask him about that weekend in Puerto Vallarta, 'cause he ain't telling.

Helmsman Furry McCuddles. You don't want to experience the fury of Furry!

Gunner's Mate Tobe "Buster" Bloodvessel. I'm already a little worried about this guy.

Seriously, give Pirate Kitteh his patch back already. You know who you are.

You think a pirate with one eye and two peg-paws has anything to lose? Well punk, do ya?

I'm gonna be honest, Gary here is dumber than a bag of hammers. Plus, who's every heard of pirate named "Gary"?

Natasha Von Teilwaggen. She'll slit yer throat while you sleep without batting an eye.

First Mate Greyfriars Bobby. His story is so touching, it makes our enemies break down weeping, unable to prevent us from taking all their dubloons. Suckers.

We just keep Bubba de la Manteca around for comic relief because he's pretty much useless.

The high seas may never be safe again.

Check out my new ride.

2008-11-19T17:33:00.002-06:00

Rock and Roll Means Well

2008-11-17T20:27:00.000-06:00

This is how I became the Master of the Internet that I am today.

2008-11-15T12:33:00.001-06:00

See more funny videos at Funny or Die

Fashion Cage Match - PLAYOFF ROUND: People from New Jersey vs. People at a Sci-Fi Convention

2008-11-14T18:47:00.013-06:00

Gentlemen, for your own sakes I hope you remain law-abiding at all times -because you are officially too damned pretty for prison.

But, if you should end up incarcerated, this guy will be there to meet you.

Guys, did you take a look in the mirror before you headed out for the evening?

I'm not sure how this is happening, but it's happening.

Beauty may only be skin-deep, but sometimes plastic surgery and steroid abuse go all the way through.

I think these guys are about to run in the Sci-fi Marathon. More power to 'em. I wonder if they call it "the Kessel run"?

Oompa loompa oopiddy doo.

Aye yai yai!

I still would like a further explanation about the "ease the seat back" spoken word soliloquy in Van Halen's "Panama." Creepy Jersey-edition David Lee Roth, would you care to explain?

I was wondering when Wonder Woman and Dr. Strange were going to finally get together. Oh wait, they live in two complete different comic book universes. He's from Marvel, she's from DC. I'm afraid that this photo is evidence of a very serious rift in the space-time continuum.

They start 'em young in Jersey.

Hello Vader.

Kid, unless your name is L'il Mama, I suggest you rethink the lip gloss strategy. Love the penciled-on beard though. Really butches it up for ya.

Your mom's costume remains awesome.

It's an old New Jersey tradition to celebrate Christmas by spray-painting your face orange.

Jedi Knights, on the other hand, honor baby Jesus with a delicious and wholesome meal from Taco Bell.

Speedo? Actually, spee-don't.
Please.

Sir, I'm afraid we're going to have cite you for wearing spandex without a license.
P.S. love the sandals. They say "action!"

This is what the Incredible Hulk would look like if he was from Jersey.

Fortunately, Tron Guy is here to protect us if the Jersey Hulk gets... angry. You wouldn't like him when he's angry.

Seriously, what is up with New Jersey guys and the lips?

Gentlemen, whatever your question may be (and I do mean whatever), the answer is a resounding "yes!"

Just like Jay Z, I have but three simple requests:

2008-11-14T18:33:00.003-06:00

Mo' Money

Mo' Cash

Mo' Ho's

Our Official Lex Ham Mascot Has Arrived

2008-11-14T18:23:00.003-06:00

Ladies and Gentlemen, please meet RAS:

I have been humbled.

2008-11-13T19:33:00.003-06:00

I thought I was pretty awesome, but then I saw this guy:

Day-um.

Gimme Five

2008-11-11T17:31:00.003-06:00

Ok, I know that posting videos is lazy blogging. But I'm gonna do it anyway. Try and stop me.

See more funny videos at Funny or Die

See more Will Ferrell videos at Funny or Die

I'm frightened. Hold me.

2008-11-10T18:20:00.002-06:00

I don't know who this guys is, but I do know that stabbing two enraged lions in the head simultaneously is about as badass as it gets.

Awesome

2008-11-09T18:07:00.000-06:00

This pretty much says it all for me:

Reasons to Think Long and Hard Before Getting That Tattoo

2008-11-09T10:03:00.004-06:00

For starters, I'm not sure if getting a tattoo inventorying what you had for breakfast is a very good idea.

Cats? Really?

(1) That tattoo's going to be on board a lot longer than any baby will be;
(2) Clowns are creepier'n hell, dude;
(3) I like pickles too, but I've never felt the need to get one permanently inked into my skin.

Sir, I don't know how to break this to you, but you are neither cool nor ice.

Gee, I wonder what this guy's three biggest priorities are? Actually, if he loved his daughter that freaking much, maybe he could have applied the insane amount of money he spent on this tattoo to her college fund.

Ok, I cannot and will not argue with this one. It's nothing but the truth.

I can't offer any commentary right now because I'm too busy projectile vomiting.

And lest you think I don't know what I'm talking about, check out my killer ink:

Fashion Cage Match: People Going to Prom vs. People Going to a Sci Fi Convention

2008-11-08T17:40:00.009-06:00

ROUND ONE:

Funny, I don't remember marinating myself in carrot juice before my prom night, but maybe that's how it's done in Staten Island. I'm just a humble Midwesterner, I can't keep up with those fancy New York City ways.

These people aren't Sci-Fi Conventioneers at all. This is actually a photo of my Wednesday night Presbyterian church group, circa 1988. I'm the one in costume.

ROUND TWO:

Hey, check out this awesome photo I found of your mom's prom date.

Well, there's no denying that ladies do love the Skeletor look.

ROUND THREE:
Well, I've never seen it before. But I guess we have to give her some points for originality for coming up with the "wrap yourself in Charmin for prom night" look. Cuh-lass-ee!

Aw crap, I hate dealing with drunken off-duty stormtroopers.

ROUND FOUR:

Y'know, there's nothing I find more annoying than somebody going to prom pregnant and trying to hide it. I admire this woman's frankness and candor.

Nice matching gray hoodies, guys. Way to color-coordinate.

ROUND FIVE:

After enjoying an intimate slow dance to REO Speedwagon's "Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore," this handsome couple will be field dressing and skinning an eight-point buck.

This woman on the other hand, has apparently been crapped upon by eighty foot tall eight-point buck.

Winter is coming...

2008-11-07T22:39:00.002-06:00

Somebody, somewhere, spent good money to make this sign.

Idiots.

Yeah, yeah. So I took a few months off.

2008-11-03T22:10:00.004-06:00

Praise the Swayze!

Because we all know that once you put a Robocop and a unicorn together, nothing can stop them.

He's all yours, ladies

Deal with it.

If you don't think this is the greatest video ever, I will punch you in the solar plexus.

2008-09-04T11:01:00.001-05:00

That's no lie, mister.

It's Official: I am NOT Obama's running mate

2008-08-22T21:09:00.002-05:00

It was close, but in the end I was too afraid of taking on this guy:

Al Gore is my homeboy.

2008-07-27T18:30:00.003-05:00

Westsiiiiiiiide!

Things that will rock your ass.

2008-07-27T17:28:00.005-05:00

Flying V? check. Keytar? check. Yep, I think these crazy kids are pretty much ready to rock your ass.

Lemmy Kielmeister is rocking your ass right now. Tell me I'm wrong.

Wayne Cochran's hair will rock your ass. It's like Donald Trump's combover started taking steroids or someting.

Snoop Dogg's lesser-known uncle, Swamp Dogg, will rock your ass. Warning: giant rodents may be involved.

The Fat Boys will rock your ass. Although they might want to stop for a snack at some point.

The United States of America will rock your ass. Duh.

Meet our new kitty!

2008-07-24T07:55:00.000-05:00

Ain't he a charmer?

From Muppetz ta G's

2008-07-23T14:53:00.004-05:00

Being kitchenless (until recently) and also being on a fairly relentless work schedule, has led to me spending what little downtime I have in ways I'm not exactly proud of. Specifically, I've been watching a lot of crappy reality competition shows that were developed to entertain 17-year-olds with promising futures working in sales at Spencer's Gifts. Even more specifically, I've been watching VH1's utterly shameless I Love Money and MTV's craptacular From G's to Gents. I have no dignity.

The concept of From G's to Gents is that host Fonzworth Bentley (yes, I am totally certain that was his given name at birth) has embarked upon a Pygmallionesque quest to transform a ragamuffin band of uncouth urban youths (the forementioned G's) into suave, urbane sophisticates. In the first episode, a G named "Pretty Ricky" (not the street name I would choose for myself if I really thought that incarceration might be in my immediate future), distinguished himself by urinating on the walls of Mr. Bentley's home. See- classy, enlightening entertainment all the way.

Anyhoo, this video of Bert and Ernie going through a reverse transformation: from mellow "roomates" to hard-bangin' G's amused the bejeebers out of me. Enjoy.

stolen from Skidzilla

Satan forced me to eat at McDonalds. And I kinda liked it.

2008-07-23T12:29:00.007-05:00

I hadn't set foot in a Mickey D's for several years until last week. I was working away, plotting new and exciting ways to plunder the Spanish Main, when suddenly I was seized by a uncontrollable urge to walk through those golden arches and get me one of those filet-o-fish sammiches. I don't think I've eaten one of those since sometime in the late 80's. For reals, yo. At any rate, I did what I always do when confronted by temptation - yield to it immediately. I have to say, the filet-o-fish sammich ain't all that bad. I'm not going to go so far as to say that it was good - I mean, it's no Shamrock Shake. But not too bad.

Yesterday I was struck by the same yearning. Yep, that means I've been to Chez Ronald twice in a week now after years and years on the wagon. "What the hell is going on here?" I asked myself. Well, it's now becoming clear that Satan, in his never-ending quest to use me as an unwitting tool in his Diabolical Promotion of the Homosexual Agenda, has forced me to spend my hard-earned doubloons at Mickey Ds in order to make sure that a small group of nutburgers with deeply-rooted psychological issues are perpetually outraged. Observe:

Now, I'm not precisely sure what McDonalds has done to piss these folks off, but I'm gonna guess that their complaint is of the "your failure to hate the people that I hate constitutes a grave and unforgivable offense worthy of protest and boycott" variety. That, or they put larger stalls in the Mens' room to accommodate Senator Larry Craig's wide stance.

At any rate, if McDonald's has figured out a way to get these guys all in a lather, they must be doing something right. Anyone care to join me for a filet-o-fish and a shamrock shake?

Hey, guess what we're drinking at the Scooby Doo Mansion this summer!

2008-07-16T16:50:00.004-05:00

Yessir, nothin' goes with a bucket of fried chicken like some syrupy semi-carbonated Lambrusco from a screwtop bottle. Unfortunately, this ad forgot to show the breakfasty side of Riunite - Riunite with french toast, anyone?
The ad also forgot to show how awesome Riunite is with half-eaten, two-day-old Taco Bell leftover chalupas that you picked up while on your previous Riunite bender.

Oh crap, they've got a website even! Even more exciting, they've got an archive of all their old TV ads. Damn.

Child psychologists, you will never lack work.

2008-07-11T10:33:00.005-05:00

Ever wonder where those pathetic food court goths come from? I sure do. And I've got a hunch it may have something to do with traumatic early childhood experiences like these:

Attention Parents: clowns and ventriliquists' dummies are always plotting to murder your children in their sleep. The kids all know this, so why can't you figure it out?

Okay, that's got to be the creepiest cat/rabbit/demonspawn I've ever seen. I'm gonna have nightmares just from looking at this picture. I hope the kid at least had the sense to leave a big ol' Cleveland steamer in its lap.

I don't even want to know

2008-07-09T20:37:00.002-05:00

Random Awesomeness

2008-07-09T12:17:00.005-05:00

Okay, I understand how the Thrush pipes helped you get the the two disco hotties - I mean, that's just simple science. But what's up with the sinister character in the black cloak? I think she's gonna slip something in your Harvey Wallbanger and steal your bitchin' van, dude. Seriously, watch out. I don't care if she reminds you of Stevie Nicks.

Tell me the guy in the upper right isn't Will Ferrell. Or is it just that Will has captured the cheezy 70's look so well that now all genuine cheezy 70's guys look like Will Ferrell to us? These are the ponderous questions that keep me up at night. Well, that and dog farts.

I tried to play Dance Dance Revolution with my boss's ten-year-old last year and she totally destroyed me. I think Waltz Waltz Revolution might be more my speed.

That's right suckas! Original German Gangstaz front the sausage and pretzel bling! You best respect.

Once I invent the time machine this party will be my first stop. Seriously.

A Farewell to Shadies: A Pictorial Retrospective of the Most Entertaining Neighbors Ever

2008-07-06T13:24:00.006-05:00

Once upon a time, Lex-Ham was home to a family who were not real slim, but were pretty damned shady. We just called 'em the Shady Bunch or the Shadies for short. Their house was Chez Shady. And at the center of all the action at Chez Shady was Erik Shady, a guy who just loved keepin' it real.

Yup, that Erik was some real dope-ass gangzta shiznit. He also enjoyed a slice of cake from time to time.

The matriach of the Shady Bunch was Beth Shady. She, also, is westsiiiiiide!

And who could forget those charming little scamps the Shadies were raising to be upstanding, high-achieving, productive members of society? We're gonna miss you crazy kids.

Sometimes a guy we just called High as Hell would come over. Sometimes we could hear the Shadies and HaH having spirited roundtable discussion about exactly how they were all related. It got pretty complicated. Kinda like the McGlaughlin Group or the Algoquin Roundtable, except with more 24 ozers of Steel Reserve Malt Liquor.

And who could forget Uncle Tony? - a mild psychopath who, oddly enough, might have been the closest thing Chez Shady had to a responsible adult.

Sometimes the Shadies would have awesome parties featuring feats of strength. That is, if you consider dusting off a case of Steel Reserve tallboys to be a feat of strength.

So long and happy trails to you, Shadies. We just know you're going to love getting to know your new neighbors - the Mullets.

And so we, the awesome residents of the Scooby Doo Mansion, raise a toast of white wine and shrimp cocktail to you, the Shady Bunch. It's been real, yo.

"Morans" strike again

2008-06-18T10:50:00.006-05:00

Why is that the people who are the most desperate to tell you how to live your life are so consistently incapable of doing so with even a modicum of articulation?

Indeed - "pervesion" is never 100% safe, but neither is leaving your house in the morning - and for my money "pervesion" is a helluva lot more fun.

P.S. I will bet you $10 that the guy in the middle is a total homo.

This is America, when bossing other people around "Don't Use Quotation Marks When You're Not Actually Quoting Someone."

What do you want on your tombstone?

2008-06-11T14:22:00.004-05:00

Might I suggest this:

I still haven't made up my mind about whether or not I want mine to simply say "I'll see you in hell!"

Screw it, I'm voting Republican!

2008-06-11T12:03:00.003-05:00

Like I've said before, this is not a political blog - but this was just too funny (and kind of sad at the same time) not to share with you:

The Greatest Angry Dance-Off Ever?

2008-06-01T09:36:00.001-05:00

Yeah, probably.

God's Gifts to Special Ladies

2008-06-01T08:45:00.008-05:00

Dear God, it's me.... Margaret. Thank you for this magnificent gift, but I'm a little confused about what the screwdriver is for.

When exactly did the midriff-bearing shirts for men come and go from style? I want to say I recall seeing them around in like 1982 and being creeped out by them even then. At any rate, if you wanna know what living the High Life is all about - friend, you're looking right at it.

Howdy, my name is MadDog MacGee, and this here is my partner Mittens. Together we drive around America in my 18-wheeler, rocking out to Bob Seeger and the Silver Bullet Band, and solving crimes. Check us out on "MadDog and Mittens," on CBS this fall.

Ladies, please inform your Dungeon Master that no saving throw will be successful against my overwhelming Charisma score. Also, I have a Vorpal Sword of Invisibility +10. So I've got that going for me. Any questions?

Business in the front, party in the back, racing stripes on the sides, and a room-temperature IQ from start to finish.

What part of "sexy" don't you understand?

I thought I was going to do something clever, instead I just started stealing stuff.

2008-05-04T13:14:00.004-05:00

Hey you guys, long time no post. I know. I kept diddling around with trying to construct these really long posts talking about rock and roll, why the upper midwest is awesome, etc. And ya know what - I don't have the time to put it together right now. What I can do is aggregate some funny crap I've found out here on the internets for your amusement. So here goes nothing.

Ladies and Gentlemen, please enjoy these awesome mug shots:

Now, I hate to engage in baseless speculation, but I have a hunch this guy just might have passed out at a kegger. Call it a hunch.

Remember when yer mom warned you that if you kept making that face, it'd get stuck that way?

If being cool is a crime, lock me up! Preferably not with this guy, though.

Oh, the delicious irony.

Don't play with Steroids, kids:Well, least not if you don't have a sweet 'stache, tinted glasses, and a winning smile.

If you ever wondered what it was like to hang out in the parking lot before a Judas Priest concert in 1986, here's a little taste of lukewarm Budweiser and statutory rape for ya:

and here is pretty much why I was I spent 1986 in my room, listening to The Clash and The Replacements:

wise words, indeed.

In case you forgot how awesome Benny Hill, lemme remind you:

Okay, that's all the awesomeness I have to share right now. More later.

Gettin' Busy with Thin Lizzy

2008-03-18T08:31:00.004-05:00

I love Saint Paul, but frankly I'm not a big fan of celebrating St. Pat's in St. Paul because between the Celtic Kitsch overload and the suburban tourists, it tends to turn into amateur hour pretty damn fast - O'Gara's being pretty much ground zero for this particularly noxious muppet show. So my two options are: stay home; or, go across the river. Fortunately, this year E-Funk and G-Funk of the Triple Rock Social Club provided an excellent option - a Thin Lizzy tribute night at their humble establishment. This may come a shock to you, but I loves me some hanging out with cool people, drinking good beer, getting my ass rocked by live bands, and I especially loves me some Thin Lizzy (yep, I've still got Jailbreak on cassette).

In fact, an early victim of my Thin Lizzyphilia was none other than Admiral Nelson, who endured repeat Jailbreak playings at a nearly North Korean brain-washing level upon several road trips to and from Da Yoop. So naturally, when I heard about last night's festivities, I called the Admiral to tell him that not only is there going to be a jailbreak, but in fact, the boys will be back in town.

We got there a little early and got take leisurely stroll down memb'ry lane with Billy Morissette. Naturally, the Brian Boru Pipe Band had to smash through the front door and show us all how to kick really, really old school.

Later, there was rock and roll. And I looked upon it and pronounced it good. To be honest, I didn't even catch the band names, which is a little embarrassing because I met the guys from band #2 a few months ago (sorry, Grumpy Steve). Doesn't matter really, the important thing is that the flame of our memory of Phil Lynott was kindled anew last night by the mighty power of rock and roll.

Special Bonus Video: Thin Lizzy performs "Jailbreak" to Crowd of Tranquilized Romanian Eighth-Graders

Seriously, what the hell is wrong with that audience? I've seen stunned trout with more life.

P.S. the muppets known as "Bono Vox" and "The Edge" ain't worthy of carrying Phil Lynott's sweaty jock. That's right, I said it. Now go find whatever it is you were looking for and quit making such pretentious crap music.

Weekend Beer Reviews (AKA learn from my mistakes, grasshopper)

2008-03-16T15:27:00.009-05:00

Y'know what? I like beer. I like beer a lot. I also like, to much lesser extent, tomato juice. Furthermore, I like clams. So when I was at The Boyfriend Store on Saturday and I saw this product in the cooler,
I said to myself, "aw, what the hell?" That's right my friends, some crazy bastard in St. Louis (and here I thought that Springfield was where I could find all the crazy bastards in the Show Me State) decided that what Budweiser beer was truly missing was the addition of tomato juice and clam broth. Naturally, I couldn't say no. And ya know what? It wasn't that bad. Ever have a bloody mary with a beer back? Well, imagine if the proportions were reversed and you mixed it all together... and then added clam juice. Not for everyone, but I found the first few sips to be fairly enjoyable. And then I just got tired of it. My biggest complaint is that the 24 oz. can is just waaaaay too much Chelada for one session. I think this is a beer-like product that is best consumed at about 8 ounces at a time.

Final Grade: C+ (I'll probably drink it again if somebody else pays for it and my only other choice is lukewarm Sunny D)

Every beer-loving instinct in my body told me that buying a 4-pack of Horny Goat Wheat tallboys was huge mistake. But dammit, I love me some tallboy drinkin', and I love me some beer that may be underpriced for its value (as my friend Ugly Juice is on an eternal quest for the perfect $10 shiraz, so am I on a ceaseless journey for some underappreciated brew that I can get for less than $10 a twelver - it's never going to happen, but that doesn't stop me). So, at $3.99, a 4-pack o' tallboys sounded like it was worth a gamble. Well, like Kenny Rogers taught us so many years ago - ya gotta know when to walk away, know when to run.

I should have ran.

My first warning sign should have been the use of a cartoon character to market the brew. We all know that the only beer that can or should be marketed via cartoon is Hamms, as demonstrated below:

See how it works? You watch those crazy "from the land of sky-blue waters (waters)/comes the beer refreshing/Hamm's - the beer refreshing/ Hamm's!!!!" commercials during a North Stars game when you're nine years old - and 25 years later, you're smashed out of your gourd at Grumpy's, being embraced by a large man in a bear custom. It's quite simple, really.

If you think some effing goat is gonna compete with that, you've got another thing coming.

Now, I can forgive a crappy marketing technique if you've got a decent brew. Horny Goat claims it is "a Belgian-Style white beer, craft-brewed with wheat, malted barley, hops, and a bit of orange peel and coriander." My guess is that the alleged "orange peel" is actually powdered Tang, which unless you're an astronaut, is not exactly a flavor you're looking for in a beer. After that initial blast of powdered citrus noxium, the beer settles into a general state of funkiness reminiscent of the backstage restroom at the 7th Street Entry, followed by a cloying, hey-is-it-just-me-or-is-something-burning? aftertaste. Learn from my mistake, friends, and avoid the Horny Goat at all costs.

Final Grade: D- (What's that? You're offering a jar actual goat urine rather than this wretched brew? Why, don't mind if I do!)

Everyone's a Critic, and Most People are DJs.

2008-03-15T14:59:00.003-05:00

So help me out, friends - if I were to start spinnin' like DJs Spock and Sue Teller, what should my DJ name be? "DJ Pirate of Selby Avenue" doesn't exactly roll off the tongue, and rumor has it that "DJ Jazzy Jeff" was already taken some time ago. Here's a few monikers I've thought of:

Bastards of Fun
Husker Don't
The Barrister of Booty
I Hate Wearing Pants
The Dingo That Ate Your Baby
Hotdish
Total Bastards, Inc.

So, whatch think?

Attention, Sad Bastards: Denmark is the Happiest Place on Earth and We Now Have Video Evidence

2008-03-12T10:30:00.005-05:00

So yer mopin' around because it's been a long, cold winter. Boo effin' hoo. Well, turn that Death Cab Sad Bastard music down for a minute and take a cue from the Danes:

If it is happiness you are seeking a move to Denmark could be in order, according to the first scientist to make a world map of happiness.
Adrian White, from the UK's University of Leicester, used the responses of 80,000 people worldwide to map out subjective wellbeing.
Denmark came top, followed closely by Switzerland and Austria. The UK ranked 41st. Zimbabwe and Burundi came bottom.

Want proof? Denmark's current top musical export is a song called "Fascination" by some overly-cheerful young Dane-things called Alphabeat. Imagine if "Walking on Sunshine" by Katrina and the Waves, "Modern Love" by David Bowie, and "Tenderness" by General Public got together to have intimate relations that are illegal in 35 states - the resulting love-bastard would probably sound like this song. Here's the video, try not to go into a diabetic coma watching it:

Naturally, some brilliant DJ named Dunproofin' bootlegged a mashup of this song with The Futureheads' mighty-clever "Hounds of Love" cover. How ya like them apples, Kate Bush? Check it out here.

Special bonus confirmation evidence that Danes are the goofiest goons on Odin's green earth, "Rhythm Bandits" by Junior Senior:

Minnesota Girls: Boy Crazy... Booze Crazy... Boat Crazy!!!

2008-03-09T14:20:00.003-05:00

They made a movie about it, so it must be true.

This post is strictly 4 the gangstaz

2008-03-08T14:28:00.008-06:00

Before reading any further, stop and ask yourself if your gangsta quotient is equal to or higher than that of this OG:

I don't really have any deep thoughts to share with all y'all today, so I think the best I can give you is a random jumble of things I'm digging on right:

Friday Night Fish Fry at The Groveland Tap. One of my many weaknesses is for batter-fried sea critters - and the Tap does it just right. Ten bucks gets you a pint of Summit and endless baskets of cod. Just kill me now.
Guided By Voices - "I am a Tree ."
Hockey. Goddamn am I loving hockey right now. I don't care if it's NHL, college, high school, men, women, or a couple of kids on a frozen pond. If it involves a puck and ice, I wanna see it.
Husker Du - "Celebrated Summer." I saw Bob Mould play this one live on Wednesday and it was definitely one of the highlights of the show. The Husker Du albums New Day Rising and Flip Your Wig were pretty the soundtrack to my summer in 1988 - and ya know what, they both still sound pretty damn good today - which is better than I can say for Join the Army by Suicidal Tendencies. The funny thing is that Husker Du actually broke up over the '87-'88 winter, so I was in this weird position of becoming smitten with a band that had fallen apart just before I had a chance to see them. I ran into bassist Greg Norton that summer at the Wabasha Street Northern Lights (that's right folks, we actually used to have record store downtown). The conversation, to my eternal embarassment, went a little bit like this:

Young Pirate: Hey, you're Greg Norton!
Greg: yep.
Young Pirate: You were in Husker Du!
Greg: yep.
Young Pirate: You guys broke up!
Greg: yep.
Young Pirate: That sucks!
Greg: yep.

Sorry, Greg.

Minnesota Kitsch. If you know me, you know I'm a huge Minnesota "statriot" (y'know, kinda being a patriot, but for a state). My recent voyage to an undisclosed location only confirmed my love for the land of sky blue waters. Lately, I've taken great satisfaction in seeing images like these:

The city of Butte, Montana really doesn't have a whole lot going for it, but at least they picked an awesome name for their football team:

Time to hit the books!

2008-02-22T16:26:00.006-06:00

Although I've been busier than a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest lately, I thought I'd relax with a few good books this weekend.

Hey, I think your mom did an awesome job modelling for this cover art. Tell her I said hi.

I hate to rip a fellow pirate, I think the highlander above has the better life. I'm just sayin'.

Why do you think they call it "dope"?

Ok, this the first time I've seen a backcover blurb that read "FULL OF MEAT!" Is this a book or a basement freezer?

Dammit! In a galaxy full of planets, I had crash on one that was full of #&$%*!! virgins!

Hey, Homicidal Virgin, maybe you can't get laid because you're too damn busy killing people. Here's my hint: less murder, more Barry White albums. Just a suggestion.

Need a professional ass-kicking?

2008-02-21T16:32:00.001-06:00

Read this.

And then watch this:

Hanks fer Nuthin'!

2008-02-20T20:47:00.005-06:00

Ok, Lord, you want yerself some Hanks - I'm gonna give you some Hanks!

Hank #1: Hank Williams

That's right, Hank Numero Uno is the man who brought us "Move it on Over," which was later covered to great effect by George Thoroughgood. Hank was an enormously talented singer and songwriter who had the good sense to drop dead before he could suck. Dying is always a smart career move. Unless you're Len Bias.

Hank #2: Hank Williams, Jr.

Because somebody's gotta take a stand for tinted glasses, snakeskin vests, and eagles soaring proudly. Gotta problem with that?

This definitely an awesome album cover. My only question is what the hell is that vaguely futuristic device Hank is reaching for on the wall?

Hank #3: Hank Williams III

Kinda looks like an eviler version of grandpa, doesn't he? Hank III grew up to develop a taste for punk rawk as a youngin', and it shows in his particular brand of snot-nosed country. Check out his cover of Johnny Cash's "Cocaine Blues" if you get the chance. Actually, it looks like your chance is now:

Hank #4: Henry Rollins

My first exposure to Henry Rollins came when my friend Will and I somehow got to the Wabasha Street Northern Lights Records where we picked up Black Flag's "Family Man," based on nothing other than the fact that we'd seen Black Flag's logo in Thrasher magazine like a lot - ergo Black Flag had to be cooler than cool. To put it mildly, this album was a bit challenging. Side One was nothing but Henry's earliest attempts at spoken word, which were -- how can I put this?-- something of an acquired taste. Side Two was a whole bunch of experimental jams led by evil genius Greg Ginn.
Later, I managed to get some of Black Flag's back catalog, featuring classics like 'TV Party.' Henry Rollins, being an overall cool guy, got me interested in poetry and spoken-word performance (y'know... sissy stuff) at a time when I probably would not have otherwise gotten within 10 yards of that stuff. So, tip o' the eyepatch to you, Hank Rollins.

Special Bonus Rollins Quote: “The blues is losing someone you love and not having enough money to immerse yourself in drink.”

Hank #5: Uncle Hank

Spotted at NY Fashion Week

2008-02-20T19:36:00.003-06:00

ummmm... Go Ducks?

I think this guy was my 7th Grade science teacher.

The Most Awesomest Album is the One You Make Yourself

2008-02-20T19:26:00.005-06:00

Friends, take a gander at the cover art for the upcoming album "Savage Wields His Club" by Lyons Northern Territory

Wuzzat? Never heard of 'em? To be honest, I hadn't either - at least not until I played the Make Your Own Awesome Album Game. The rules are pretty simple:

1. The first article title on this page is the name of your band. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special:Random

2. The last four words of the very last quote on this page is the title of your album (Hit the "New Random quotations" button at the bottom). http://www.quotationspage.com/random.php3

3. Finally, the third picture here, no matter what it is, will be your album cover. http://www.flickr.com/explore/interesting/7days /

4. (Optional) Using the rule from #2 above, create a track list of 12 songs.

Have at it, friends -- and report back with your own Awesome Album!

So, what was the deal with bands in the 90's having male cheerleaders/dancers

2008-02-07T19:09:00.001-06:00

So, I've been thinking about music in the 90's lately (I blame VH1). I firmly stand by my judgment made during that decade that about 75% of all music produced between 1992-2000 pretty well sucked. However, there were some interesting micro-tends. For instance, what was the deal with bands that had a member who did nothing but dance around on stage? I present the following case studies:

1) Ben Carr of the Mighty Mighty Bosstones:

What you're seeing is pretty much all Ben does. Skank-a-dank. Wikipedia describes him as "an ubiquitous, but non-musician onstage presence, later credited as 'Bosstone.'" Now, this isn't such a big deal when your seven-piece band is playing monster venues on the Vans/Warped Tour. But, AC and my second date was seeing this guys in the 7th Street Entry back in early '92. There was no room on stage, no room on the floor - but somehow they pulled it off. AC got a contact knocked out when she got kicked in the face by a stage-diver. Miraculously, she actually found the contact on the floor. Later, I interviewed Joe Gittleman for my awesome 'zine, Blaaarg! and AC got kissed by several band members.

Special Bonus Video: Devil's Night Out

vainglorious tangent: the barkeep at Tin Cups keeps telling me that I remind him of Dicky Barrett. Apparently, Dicky is now Jimmy Kimmel's announcer. Who knew?

2) Beau Beau of Avail

I will submit that Avail might end up being one of the best Punk Rawk bands of the 90's. They broke the mold of a genre that was getting stale and formulaic in a lot of ways (their covers of "Pink Houses," "Suspicious Minds," and "You May be Right" while blow your free-gone mind, man). So why not have live show that includes a guy with a beard that'd do Odin proud and an incisor deficiency as your all-purpose cheerleader? Tip o' the eyepatch to you, Beau Beau.

3) Bez of Happy Mondays

I'm going to admit that I was a pretty serious hater of Acid House back inna day. Granted, I put my 40 of Haterade down long enough to head over to Sunday Night Dance Party in the Mainroom after the all-ages hardcore matinee was over in the Entry. That was where the girls were. Duh.
At any rate, no band exemplified Acid like Happy Mondays. Check out the film '24 Hour Party People' for a very entertaining glimpse into this particular chapter in music/drug/youth culture history. One of the Mondays' trademarks was having this geezer named Bez (who was X'd out of his gourd) dance like a jackrabbit with a thyroid condition in all their shows. Later, the maracas came out. For those of you who were rocking out to Richard Marx back then, Bez was basically the Flavor Flav of Acid House.

Here's a video of these freaks at the height of their evil powers:

Still not my cup of tea. You're twistin' my melon, man.

Sorry for the long absence. Been out scouring the high seas.

2008-02-07T18:44:00.001-06:00

Alright, already. You're sick of coming here and looking at the world's manliest hairdresser. I got the message loud and freaking clear. But y'know what? The damn Spanish Main don't plunder itself! That's right, if I don't get up bright and early every morning, strap on an eyepatch and a cutlass and get out there and shiver some timbers, I don't get any dubloons. Welcome to the pirate economy.

The funny thing is, I've had a like a gazillion ideas for blog postings, and now that I have a chance to actually sit down and write I can't remember any of them. None of them involved funny pictures. Most of them involved rock and roll. Damn you, demon rum, you got my pappy but you won't get me.

Ok, here's a story. Once upon a time, I think it might have been 1996 or so, Admiral Nelson and I went to visit his brother at Michigan Tech, which is in Houghton, Michigan, which is in the Upper Penninsula (aka Da Yoop). Unlikely as it sounds, while we were up there, we visited The Gay Bar. It was awesome. Please enjoy the photographic evidence:

The Admiral shows his moves outside The Gay Bar. Sexy beast.

Oddly enough, I would have to characterize The Gay Bar's overall aesthetic as "not nearly gay enough."

Girl, I wanna take you to The Gay Bar.

Yep, they had a dart board. Who knew?

Start smoking, or this man will glare you into humiliating submission.

2007-12-18T14:58:00.002-06:00

Damn, you can just about smell the testosterone and barely suppressed homicidal rage emanating right off the page. This may be the ultimate "Smoking: When You Just Don't Give a Shit Anymore" advertisement.

From the pages of Pimpwear Quarterly

2007-12-18T14:50:00.001-06:00

Memo to the guy in the middle: What's up with the lack of moustache? The other pimps have awesome 'staches, so what's your problem, bub? P.S. Tuck your shirt in.

It's official: T-Roy, the Cap'n, and I are the awesomest actors in the history of acting awesome.

2007-12-13T15:49:00.001-06:00

Tell me we're not.

More videos from the "Burt Builds a Bandit Contest" channel at Heavy.com

Remain calm, all is well.

2007-12-12T20:24:00.001-06:00

So, obviously I've been away for a while. All I can tell ya is that the Spanish Main don't plunder itself. Since Baby Jesus' birthday is coming up and everything, let's get the action started with some seasonal awesome album covers (caveat: we prefer to celebrate Saturnalia at the Scooby Doo Mansion):

'Cuz anytime you need a laugh, just mention K-Fed. Seriously, the dude is pretty much humor Colt .45 - as in works every time. Just ask Billy Dee Williams.

Hey did you know that Rush is from Canada? They're totally Canadian you know - as any self-respecting Cannuck will tell you less than four minutes into any conversation.

You haven't lived until you've seen Adam Fielitz sing "Paradise by the Dashboard Lights" at Tin Cups.

If you're not like me and your hands aren't permanently ink-stained from reading every single issue of Maximum Rock n Roll cover to cover from 1988 to 1993, then maybe you don't know who G.G. Allin was. All I can say is, think of the sickest shit a performer could do onstage and then amplify it to the power of ten. If it was depraved, twisted, and wrong - our man G.G. was on it. This is a textbook example of why you may want to consider NOT naming your child "Jesus Christ." Just a thought.

BONUS B.S.:

Hands down, this is the best genuine dive bar in Saint Paul. Any place that has "Fuck Her Gently" on the karaoke list and will let seven of us get likkered-up for a cumulative $18 deserves some kind of recognition.

Attention foreigners: In America, all arguments are automatically won by the person wearing an awesome stars-n-stripes shirt and an even awesomer mullet. Them's the rules, bub.

Have an awesome Thanksgiving!

2007-11-21T08:10:00.001-06:00

Notice the absence of any knife in this photo?

Viva la cow dog!

2007-11-18T17:53:00.002-06:00

In a world spinning out of control, perhaps a massively extended dog tongue can save the day.

You do not want to know what you have to do to join Cow Dog's gang.

Sometimes, a dog just has to try out a little cross-dressing.

Cow skunk? How the hell does that work?

Anybody lose a pet opossum on Franklin Avenue last month?

2007-11-17T17:56:00.001-06:00

JLW, I think you might want to head down to the neighborhood library and look up "cat."

Check out my awesome self-portrait

2007-11-16T21:29:00.002-06:00

Confession: this self-portrait is not entirely accurate. I don't actually have a beard. Other than that, this is pretty much right on the money. The unicorn's name is Humperdink.

Her name is Millie... Ms. Jackson if you're nasty.

2007-11-16T21:07:00.002-06:00

I just want everybody to pause for a moment and reflect upon the awesomeness that is Millie Jackson.

It's good to be loved. It's even better to be loved when you're Millie Jackson and you're getting loved-up by a guy in a hard hat.

I've looked into a crystal ball, and I see Millie Jackson's awesome cleavage in your future. Lucky you.

Ok, Millie, now that was just uncalled-for. Keep your Cleveland Steamers to yourself. They may go for that kinda thing over at Afterglide, but this here is a respectable zombie-fearing blog where we don't cotton to highly inappropriate album covers... Wait a minute, that's exactly what we cotton to around here. What the hell am I talking about? This is what I get for blogging in the midst of a Tijuana Picnic.

Uh-oh, I better start taking the coming Zombie Apocalypse more seriously

2007-11-14T20:56:00.001-06:00

According to this quiz, my odds of surviving the zombie apocalypse aren't exactly great:

55%

Science Update: Chocolate Owes Its Existence to Beer

2007-11-12T19:45:00.001-06:00

Is there any amenity of civilization that can't be attributed to beer? Probably Not. Check this out:

WASHINGTON (Reuters) - The chocolate enjoyed around the world today had its origins at least 3,100 years ago in Central America not as the sweet treat people now crave but as a celebratory beer-like beverage and status symbol, scientists said on Monday.
Researchers identified residue of a chemical compound that comes exclusively from the cacao plant -- the source of chocolate -- in pottery vessels dating from about 1100 BC in Puerto Escondido, Honduras.
One of the researchers, anthropologist John Henderson of Cornell University in Ithaca, New York, said cacao beverages were being concocted far earlier than previously believed -- and it was a beer-like drink that started the chocolate craze.

"What we're seeing in this early village is a very early stage in which serving cacao at fancy occasions is one of the strategies that upwardly mobile families are using to establish themselves, to accumulate social prestige," Henderson said in a telephone interview.

The cacao brew consumed at the village of perhaps 200 to 300 people may have evolved into the chocolate beverage known from later in Mesoamerican history not by design but as "an accidental byproduct of some brewing," Henderson said.

You got served, Umlaut!

2007-11-10T09:52:00.001-06:00

Check it out:

A N O P E N L E T T E R
T O U M L A U T .

October 13, 2003

Dear Umlaut,
You think you're so damn cool, huh? Just hanging out, chillin', above all those vowels. You're all, "Ooh, look at me, I'm a chic umlaut. I make girls' names look modish, like Zoë and Chloë, and I rock with strung out '80s metal bands!"
Well, guess what? You're only an umlaut if you're modifying the pronunciation of a singular vowel, like in "Führer" or "über." If you're stressing the second of two consecutive vowels or one that would usually be silent according to common English usage, you're just a plain old boring dieresis. How 'bout that, you naïve jackass? God, you're such a poseur, umlaut. You're nothing but two measly dots. You're a Eurotrash colon lying down. Nobody thinks you're cool.
Sincerely,
Josh Abraham
Kew Gardens, NY

Have an awesome weekend!

2007-11-09T16:52:00.001-06:00

Twenty-five years from now, this incident will pay for some therapist's weekend home.

It's comforting to know that when I want scientifically accurate information, I can turn to the Beginner's Bible Coloring Book.

Aw, the delicious irony of pissing away your future heirs' inheritance on letting your future heirs know that you're pissing away their inheritance. Bernie, you are a real geezer of genius, and I salute you.

I really wish I knew what the English translations of items 8, 9, and 10 on the Forbidden Words list were.

Once again, I'm going to let discretion be the better part of blogging valor and refrain from comment. It's killing me, though.

In the off chance you'd like to join me on a Shamrock Shake Bender, here are some motivational videos

2007-11-08T14:09:00.001-06:00

That's right. Everybody loves a guy who's been sucking down minty milkshakes all day.

I'm sure the volume of mind-altering substances involved in the making of this ad are roughly comparable to the number of toxic chemicals that go into making Shamrock Shakes. Not like I care, though.

The bathroom of the Leprechaun Mafia's HQ is soft and fuzzy

2007-11-08T13:51:00.001-06:00

'Cos even the toughest leprechauns need a cozy for their crappers.

Thought experiment: were Admiral Nelson and I to go on a three day Shamrock Shake and Grasshopper bender, would this bathroom look any different once the vomiting stopped?

Uncle O'Grimace y wants to know.

Thought I was out of Awesome Album Covers? Think again, suckas!

2007-11-07T19:57:00.002-06:00

Funny. My "Tijuana Picnics" usually involve a few gallons of Sauza, a donkey, and some ping-pong balls, but you just do whatever makes you happy, Colonel Sanders.

We're awesome, we're Norwegian, and we've got a phone that matches our suits. Deal with it, byotch.

We've got one turntable and no microphones...

No matter where you go, his eyes will follow you, silently commanding you... "Boogie!"

Yeah, yeah. You got the dove and all I got was the #$@!! clap. Thanks fer nuthin', Mike Adkins. I'm never going to give you a ride to Psycho Suzi's again.

I'm sick and tired of trying to match my shirts and my pants. If only someone would invent a one-piece suit for men...

2007-11-07T19:22:00.001-06:00

I think my favorite short-lived TV was Freaks and Geeks. In one of the later episodes, the sleazy manager of a mall clothing store (played by Joel Hodgson, who is possibly the only other cool person to graduate from my creepy, creepy undergraduate alma mater) convinces young Sam Weir that his best chance at impressing the lovely Cindy is to start wearing a "Parisian Nightsuit." The results are pictured above.

Trying to go for that "I just broke out of prison, but I'm still damned sexy" look? I think the JC Penny catalog, circa 1976, can help you out.

Ok, get out your magnifying glass, 'cos you're going to want to read the fine print on this one. "Fits so tight, it shows all you've got." Woooooooow!

This dog is not lost, just awesome

2007-11-06T15:08:00.000-06:00

Do not expect a similar flyer for the four-legged beasts of the Scooby Doo Mansion (AKA Brown and The Cow Dog) to be appearing around Lex-Ham anytime soon.

Hold Steady Video: Lord, I'm Discouraged (Live)

2007-11-04T15:47:00.001-06:00

Excuses and half-truths and fortified wine.
Apparently, this is from the October 27 show in Columbus, Ohio.

Do not, I repeat, DO NOT piss off the Leprechaun Mafia

2007-11-04T15:32:00.000-06:00

The leprechaun mafia thrives on shamrock shakes and vengeance, bloody vengeance.

(Tip o' the eyepatch to T-Roy for the photo)

The Hold Steady, State Theatre, Nov. 1, 2007

2007-11-03T07:25:00.000-05:00

The lobby of the State Theatre was full of aging scenesters, tallboys of Heineken, and rumors of a Bruce Springsteen appearance. Although the band is Brooklyn-based, the Twin Cities have as much of a proprietary interest in The Hold Steady as they do in Prince, Husker Du, and The Replacements. Which meant this show was as much a homecoming game as it was a rock concert, and (rightly or wrongly) emotions, expectations, and more than a few concert-goers were high as hell.

A lot has changed since The Hold Steady's appearance last fall at First Avenue in early weeks following the release of Boys and Girls in America. A year later, you can't swing a dead cat in this town without finding some guy in his 30's who listens to the album on a daily basis. America's Greatest Bar Band has gone from actually playing in bars to opening for the Rolling Stones at Castle Slane in Ireland this summer. The biggest change was in venue, from the friendly confines of First Ave. to the assigned seating of the tres luxe State Theatre (which is usually a venue for Momma Mia! and other touring broadway musicals). This was not a change for the better, as being confined by a seat assignment felt restrictive and created an "energetic barrier" between the band and the crowd. In my case, it almost meant that the tallest, widest people in the state of Minnesota were fixed to the spot in front of me (the drunkest people in Minnesota were on my immediate left and a girl with a voice like a rake being dragged over aluminum siding who insisted on singing along with every word to the right of AC).

The band came out to an Ennio Moricone Spaghetti Western theme and promptly launched into "Party Pit" (cue crowd going 32 flavors of apeshit over the "grain belt bridge... brand new Minneapolis" lyric). The remainder of the first set was the "greatest hits" from Boys and Girls and Seperation Sunday with three new songs thrown in ("Ask Her for Adderal," "Magazines," and "Lord, I'm Discouraged").

Friends, it's the new songs I want to talk about. They were very good and they made me, as a fan who (rightly or wrongly) feels such a proprietary interest in this band, very nervous. How can I put this? They just seemed a little too accessible. Now, before you totally dismiss me as a bitter, aging hipster (some folks call me a "crypster") or a music snob, allow me to explain. I'm not Barry from High Fidelity, I have no problem with populist anthems. But part of what has made The Hold Steady so wonderful for me is the dense and complex content they provide to a basic rock-n-roll form. The new songs sounded, for lack of a better term, simple. The lyrics to the extent I understood them, seemed to be more kind of generic, adult relationship problems type stuff. Nothing wrong with that. As we left, I told AC that I am 99% certain that we will hear Hold Steady songs on KS95 before the end of next year. That's OK. They're a good band and I want to see them get paid, and the dental hygienists of the world sure need some real rock-n-roll in their lives, but I feel like I might be losing something.

The encore went back to the "Almost Killed Me" playbook. As usual, the show wrapped up with the "Killer Parties" finale and Craig's "there's so much joy in what we do up here" homily. (Disclaimer: some are now telling me that "Southtown Girls" was actually the last song of the night, and dammit, they might be right). However, unlike last year, Tad Kubler seemed much more detached from his performance and just chugged through the notes without the extended and ecstatic soloing and crowd interaction we saw before. Maybe he was just tired from touring so much. Hang in there, buddy. In contrast Galen and Franz were acting goofier than hell all through the show. Guys, whatever it is you've got, start sharing.

OTHER CONCERT NOTES:

The first opening band, Federale was a lot of good, dirty fun. Here's how to make a Federale smoothie: throw a bunch of albums by Mountain, Nazareth, Black Sabbath and .38 Special into a blender with about a gallon of bong water - then mix to sleazy, rockin' perfection. I'm pretty sure their tour van has an airbrushed painting of a wizard on the side, along with a bubble window. Sweet.

The other opening act was Art Brut, who seemed to have a brief run as a flavor of the month band back about 18 months ago. Friends, I'm not gonna sugar-coat this: I absolutely despised them. Their music is just plain old bad and everything about them came across as calculated and fake. I know they were going for "zany," or "cleverly stupid," or some shit like that, but it just doesn't work. After about twenty minutes of their set, we went out to the lobby to look for old friends. Spotted: most of the living members of Soul Asylum, and ex-Selby Tiger and Seperation Sunday producer Dave Gardner.

I am so not kidding about the Coming Zombie Menace

2007-10-31T11:32:00.000-05:00

That's right, chickens, I gots me some scientific support for my greatest formerly irrational fear. Check out this discussion of the possibility of a "rage virus" (as depicted in the scariest movie of all time, 28 Days Later) actually happening. Time to start boarding up the Scooby Doo Mansion (after we get done handing out candy tonight), stocking up on canned hams and sharpening the 'ole machete (aka the "GhoulHacker 3000"):

In the movie, it was a virus that turned human beings into mindless killing machines. In real life, we have a series of brain disorders that do the same thing. They were never contagious, of course. Then, Mad Cow Disease came along. It attacks the cow's spinal cord and brain, turning it into a stumbling, mindless attack cow.
And, when humans eat the meat ...

How it can result in zombies:
When Mad Cow gets in humans, they call it Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease. Check out the symptoms:

Changes in gait (walking)
Hallucinations
Lack of coordination (for example, stumbling and falling)
Muscle twitching
Myoclonic jerks or seizures
Rapidly developing delirium or dementia

Sure, the disease is rare (though maybe not as rare as we think) and the afflicted aren't known to chase after people in murderous mobs. Yet.

But, it proves widespread brain infections of the Rage variety are just a matter of waiting for the right disease to come along.

Chances this could cause a zombie apocalypse:
If the whole sudden, mindless violence idea seems far-fetched, remember that you are just one brain chemical (serotonin) away from turning into a mindless killing machine (they've tested it by putting rats in Deathmatch-style cages and watching them turn on each other). All it would take is a disease that destroys the brain's ability to absorb that one chemical and suddenly it's a real-world 28 Days Later.

So, imagine such an evolved disease, which we'll call Super Mad Cow (or, Madder Cow) getting a foothold through the food supply. Say this disease spreads through blood-on-blood contact, or saliva-on-blood contact. Now you have a Rage-type virus that can be transmitted with a bite.

Brrraaaaainnnnsssss...............

You were too beautiful for this world, Robert Goulet.

2007-10-30T19:34:00.000-05:00

We'll miss you, Robert Goulet:

Robert Goulet, the Canadian-raised singer known for his baritone voice and frequent TV appearances, has died, a spokesman for the singer said. He was 73.
Blessed with matinee idol looks, Goulet started his acting career in Canada and became a star on Broadway in the role of Lancelot in the 1960 musical Camelot.

If Ever I Would Leave You, Lancelot’s love song to Guinevere, remained a signature tune throughout his career.

But after becoming a fixture at Las Vegas, he developed the image of a Lothario crooner with twinkling blue eyes, singing through a haze of cigarette smoke.

Well, what better way to pay tribute than through one of my all-time favorite SNL skits:

Staring contest. Me and you. Now.

I "can't wait" until these guys check out "Tin Cup's" on "Rice Street"

2007-10-29T16:44:00.000-05:00

Yup, that's right. Some genius has dedicated an entire blog to photos of signs with completely unnecessary quote marks. H-Lo, you may begin your nervous breakdown now. "Check it out!"

Seven Things About Yours Truly

2007-10-28T10:59:00.000-05:00

A long time ago, Missy over at Ode to Humanity challenged me to post seven things about myself, or something like that. Obviously, I've been putting that little piece of homework off for a while. Seeing as I've now caught a brief moment of rest from an insanely busy schedule of brigandage on the high seas, I guess now is my chance to make good. Here goes:

1. If pressed, I would have to say that my favorite soft rock song is "Year of the Cat."

2. I can't watch the television show "Miracle Pets" without getting a little misty-eyed. Seriously. Don't tell anybody I said that.

3. Three pop culture moments that have warped me for life: 1) age 4 - finding my parents' copy of Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band and playing it on my little Mickey Mouse record player (the needle came out of Mickey's outstretched hand) - listening to it now, most of the album is precisely the kind of virtuosic, overbloated proto-progrock that I dislike intensely, but hearing that opening guitar riff when I was four, oh man....; 2) age 9 - watching the original BBC telecast of Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy in a hotel room in Glasgow; 3) age 14 - riding my bike down to the Maplewood Mall, going Musicland, and shelling out several weeks' worth of allowance to purchase The Clash (1977) and a James Brown's Greatest Hits album (both on cassette).
Those three moments, mes amis, have in many ways sent me on the trajectory that finds me today compulsively posting album covers from Norwegian disco bands with ridiculous haircuts. I'll let all of you budding young psychologists out there figure out what the hell that means. I'm sure Nick Hornby could turn this whole narrative into a book, but I'm not Nick Hornby.

4. Speaking of Nick Hornby, there was a point in my life when I came dangerously close to turning into Barry from High Fidelity. A good friend (whose will not even be identified by pseudonym, such is her shame), who is also an admitted fan of (*shudder*, *cringe*) Matchbox 20, and rightly ridiculed by myself for being so, isn't so sure I actually dodged that bullet. Click here for your gratuitous Sonic Death Monkey clip.

5. Last weekend I went to First Avenue and a High School Dance broke out. Soviet Panda have excellent taste in hooded cowls, by the way.

6. When the zombies come, as they surely will, I just hope I'll be ready.

7. I like the cut of your jib. Also, I'm loaded for bear.

On the road again

2007-10-24T16:41:00.000-05:00

I've been travelling a lot lately. In fact, I'm blogging from an undisclosed location right now. This means I've been spending a lot of time in airports and on planes. Back in the old days, the only way to get to anywhere from the Twin Cities was to fly Northwest. No longer. Check out some of the crazy new airlines that are out there:

Speed Post!

2007-10-11T19:25:00.000-05:00

Busy, busy pirate have little time to post... must... write like... Superman under influence... of kryptonite...

Admiral Nelson once had a roomate named Shirley, you know.

I never did trust that worm.
Is there any other kind of cramp?
That "something special" wouldn't happen to be a mechanical hook, would it?

Evangelical Ninjas, unite!

There, got it all posted in less than five minutes!

What for you no tell me Supersuckers in town last Friday?

2007-10-09T18:51:00.000-05:00

In case you were wondering, one of the ways to break my shriveled little heart is to tell on Monday that the Supersuckers were in town last Friday.

My only source of comfort will be these videos

Please play this song at my funeral. Later, I'll see you in hell.

The beauty of the internet: I can find a Supersuckers cover of "Hey Ya" overdubbed on a Peanuts Cartoon in less than a minute, but I can't find out that the band actually playing live in town on a night when I had nothing better to do. What did I actually do last Friday night? Well, it involved Hoegaarden, the Hamline & Grand Green Mill, and flatulent bar patrons (not me).

Interview with The Replacements - circa 1986

2007-10-06T13:21:00.001-05:00

"We need psychiatric treatment. Seriously."

What I can't figure out is where this interview took place. It kinda looks like the old jungle world that used to be on the top of the St. Paul City Center along with that creepy carousel.

Science Friday: meet the new dinosaur on the block

2007-10-05T12:03:00.000-05:00

This, ladies and gentlemen, is the newly-described Gryposaurus monumentensis, which I believe is Latin for "big-ass duck-billed tree chomper." I'll let the science guys do the talking:

The newly named Gryposaurus monumentensis, or hook-beaked lizard from the monument, was discovered near the Arizona line in the Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument in 2002 by a volunteer at the site. Details about the 75-million-year-old dinosaur, including its name, were published in the Oct. 3 edition of Zoological Journal of the Linnean Society.

Duck-billed dinosaurs were previously known to have been among the most imposing herbivores, with hundreds of teeth and a body that could knock down trees.

Gryposaurus monumentensis, at least 30 feet long and 10 feet tall with a robust jaw and thick bones, was like a duck-billed dinosaur on steroids, said paleontologist Terry Gates.

"It's basically the Cretaceous version of a weed-whacker," he said. "You have a very formidable herbivore."

Speaking of weed-whackers:

Grab-bag of amusement

2007-10-04T19:57:00.001-05:00

Friends, I'm sick, I'm tired, and I'm incapable of organizing my found frivolities around a coherent theme. Enjoy anyhoo.

My only question is how they the wigs on the elephants.

Henceforth, I shall only dance as Rick Astley dances

2007-09-29T11:55:00.000-05:00

When this song was on the radio, I just assumed that Rick Astley was actually the from Ashford & Simpson (kinda like my "Melissa Etheridge is actually Steve Perry from Journey" theory. Really, has anyone ever seen both of them at the same time?). At any rate, I'm gonna dance like Rick Astley from now on... Just as soon as I get some awesome pleated jeans.

P.S. Does anybody else find the bartender's borderline-orgasmic enthusiasm for Rick a little strange?

Here's my weekend reading list:

2007-09-28T11:01:00.001-05:00

Y'know, I've been wondering what AC keeps in that cabinet. Probably a few gallon jugs of Campari.

Hey pal, they make a pill for that now.

Craig, I've got a new lyric for you: "I've been tryin' to get people to call my Benny Muscles / But people keep calling me Benny Hill."

If a bear can figure it out, I think we can too.

Hey, look! Someone wrote a novel about the Scooby Doo Mansion! How'd they know about the manacles and bars we keep down in the basement?

Holy guacamole, you've gotta see this video (if you're a Twin Cities music history person)

2007-09-25T19:32:00.000-05:00

Once upon a time, KSTP ran a craptacular local chat show called "Good Company," hosted by two minty-fresh closet crackheads named Steve and Sharon. Well, back in 1986, some genius (who probably lost his job as a result) decided to have Husker Du on as musical guests. The results, in my opinion, are stunning. The look on the faces of an audience full of middled-aged hausfraus is simply priceless.

P.S. The guy with the handlebar moustache is the only one who isn't gay. Go figure.
P.P.S. I'll betcha a sixer of Grain Belt that they were skagged out of their gourds throughout the interview.
P.P.P.S. Drummer Grant Hart attended South Saint Paul High School with Tim Pawlenty. Again, go figure.
P.P.P.P.S. As long as we're talking Husker Du, check out this video for 'Don't Want to Know If You are Lonely:'

Mmmmm, Pulpy!

2007-09-25T18:41:00.001-05:00

What? I can't kill a client? Dammit, why didn't somebody tell me that before I waxed my 2 o'clock appointment. Thanks for nothin', gentle readers.

I don't get it, where the monkeys at?

Dolls on dope who'll do anything for kicks? Really? Where the hell were they when I was 17?

Umm, are there any fraternities that aren't fraternities of shame? Seriously, have you ever met a Sigma Alph who didn't need to be repeatedly taint-punched by an enraged gorilla?

Hey Shanty Girl, have you given Payne Avenue a try?

Felitz, I like the cut of your jib.

2007-09-24T07:51:00.000-05:00

This one's for you, Adam, you magnificent bastard:

Getting Scary with Richard Scarry

2007-09-23T09:58:00.000-05:00

All of the following were borrowed from somethingawful.com for your viewing pleasure:

Super-Patriotic Jesus... With Sparkles!!!

2007-09-21T10:24:00.001-05:00

The unblinking eyes are a little disturbing if you ask me. Does anyone remember if the bible mentions JC having laser vision? If Jesus got in a fight with Superman and Mike Ditka, who would win?

Transcripts don't lie

2007-09-20T10:01:00.000-05:00

Sometimes my merry voyages across the seven seas of civil litigation involves getting people's testimony under oath. Sometimes this leads to some pretty bizarre statements, all of which are recorded on official transcript and preserved for nobody's reading pleasure. The following are segments of genuine court transcrip, which (thankfully) involve pirates other than myself, although I might have a few gems of my own after yesterday (tip o' the eyepatch to H-Lo for contributing several of these):

Accused, Defending His Own Case: "Did you get a good look at my face when I took your purse?" (The defendant was found guilty and sentenced to ten years in jail.

Lawyer: "Can you describe what the person who attacked you looked like?"
Witness: "No. He was wearing a mask."
Lawyer: "What was he wearing under the mask?"
Witness: "Er...his face."

Lawyer: "What was the first thing your husband said to you when he woke that morning?"
Witness: "He said, 'Where am I, Cathy?'"
Lawyer: "And why did that upset you?"
Witness: "My name is Susan."

Lawyer: "Sir, what is your IQ?"
Witness: "Well, I can see pretty well, I think."

Lawyer: "Did you blow your horn or anything?"
Witness: "After the accident?"
Lawyer: "Before the accident."
Witness: "Sure, I played for ten years. I even went to school for it."

Lawyer: "Trooper, when you stopped the defendant, were your red and blue lights flashing?"
Witness: "Yes."
Lawyer: "Did the defendant say anything when she got out of her car?"
Witness: "Yes, sir."
Lawyer: "What did she say?"
Witness: "'What disco am I at?'"

Lawyer: "Doctor, before you performed the autopsy, did you check for a pulse?"
Witness: "No."
Lawyer: "Did you check for blood pressure?"
Witness: "No."
Lawyer: "Did you check for breathing?"
Witness: "No."
Lawyer: "So, then it is possible that the patient was alive when you began the autopsy?"
Witness: "No."
Lawyer: "How can you be so sure, Doctor?"
Witness: "Because his brain was sitting on my desk in a jar."
Lawyer: "But could the patient have still been alive nevertheless?"
Witness: "Yes, it is possible that he could have been alive and practicing law somewhere."

Witness: "He was about medium height and had a beard."
Lawyer: "Was this a male or a female?"

Lawyer: "How many times have you committed suicide?"
Witness: "Four times."

Lawyer: "Are you married?"
Witness: "No, I'm divorced."
Lawyer: "And what did your husband do before you divorced him?"
Witness: "A lot of things I didn't know about."

I'm still alive

2007-09-18T15:24:00.000-05:00

Hey gang, sorry for the lack of frivolity lately. I have been one busy, busy pirate. I don't have anything substantive to share with you today, so in the meantime, enjoy this:

Hey Ladies, dial 212-MARGARITA for me, will ya?

2007-09-01T14:21:00.000-05:00

Two videos with virtually nothing in common, but I dig 'em both.

Last night, Lucas of Petite Flower fame and I agreed (in the midst of heated Wii Bowling combat) that Paul's Boutique was a much greater achievement of human civilization than the Great Wall of China. If you disagree with us, I submit the video for "Hey Ladies" as Exhibit A:

"212-Margarita" is an unreleased Hold Steady song. Why? 'Cause I'm green and deceiving and full of tequila, that's why!