Tuesday, January 30, 2007

My Body is a TanoryLand

When we heard that John Mayer was coming to the River Center in Baton Rouge, we wanted to get tickets. Unfortunately, we found out a couple of days after the tickets went on sale, so decided that we would just stay home and be old people for the night instead of sitting in the nosebleed section and fighting off the vertigo.

But as luck would have it, one of our friends became violently ill and couldn't make it, so she gave us her tickets. Jackpot!

John Mayer sings a song called "Your Body is a Wonderland." Now you may remember that I published a song about a month before that song came out called "My Body is a Tanoryland" - it's all about the well-documented ferris wheel that's attached to my torso. The two songs don't sound anything alike, and my recording didn't come out all that great, but you and I know that I did it first.

But I don't hold a grudge - as long as pictures of him and Jessica Simpson getting it on appear in the tabloids, it's all good.

We hit up the River Center with my brother-in-law and his wife. We had great concert seats, and premium seats for people-watching. I swear, I've never seen so many butt-cracks in one room. Hopefully by the time my daughter(s) grow up, fashion will cycle back to being long skirts and chastity belts, otherwise she won't be able to leave the house.

Anyway, back to the main point...

Josh Rouse opened up for John Mayer. I remember Josh Rouse from The Coffee House on Sirius Satellite Radio because I associate "Rouse" with the "Rat Of Unusual SizE" from The Princess Bride. Mnemonics is the key!

John Mayer was great. Most of the songs he played were from his latest album "Continuum," and he also played most of his other singles. Did I mention he was getting it on with Jessica Simpson?

In conclusion, remember to: 1) wear underwear to concerts; 2) support your local music scene; and c) call us if you feel sick before your next concert.

Thanks again for the tix!

Sunday, January 28, 2007

Uncle Bebo

I'm happy to announce a festivus miracle: my brother and his wife are expecting a baby. He's going to be a father, and I will be upgraded to Uncle 3.0. I even get to sit by the window and watch the stork bring it to his house!

Being an uncle is a lot of responsibility. Being an Uncle 3.0 is thrice the responsibility.

I usually shy away from doing anything with babies, like holding them, changing them, or starting a spit-up contest. I'm really only good at scaring babies, which is pretty easy for me, as all I have to do is get in their line of sight. But I don't want to be "that guy" that drops a baby on its head - I need to start upgrading my baby skillz.

I figure that I'll have a lot of time to practice holding the baby, so I'm working on a lot of my "soft skills" - like singing. If I went on American Idol right now, I would blow the judges away with my beautiful rendition of "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star."

All mothers have a song that they tell their children, "Don't you remember when I sang such and such song to you when you were little?" The answer to all you Moms out there is, "No, I was a baby. I was preoccupied with gnawing on my feet."

But I want to sing a unique song to my niece or nephew, so years later I can say that I did something special. So I'm searching for a new song. You can check out some of my top choices here, here and here. I think I'm going with the last one.

Congrats on the baby, bro and sis-in-law! I can't wait until your baby throws its first Tanory Tantrum.

Saturday, January 27, 2007

Nightmare Girls

We just got back from watching the movie "Dreamgirls," which I honestly believe is one of the worst movies I have ever seen. Seriously, I can't believe that it was nominated for anything other than the Razzies. The Golden Globes and the Oscars are both full of crap.

The movie is only 2 hours and 20 minutes, but it felt about 4x longer than Braveheart. I got up to pee at 1.5 hours and really thought about escaping from the theater and running home in the rain. The only reason I didn't was because my stomach hurt, which was due either to the 15 pieces of pizza that I ate at Pizza Village (I couldn't stop, it's so good!), or because the vacuum created by Dreamgirls' suckiness was throwing off my equilibrium.

Dreamgirls is based on the story of the Supremes. It's also an adaptation of a Broadway play, which was evident in that the characters would sporadically break into song during a mundane activity.

Beyonce' is a great singer but a terrible actress. Her acting in Dreamgirls is comparable to her wooden acting in Austin Powers in Goldmember. Jamie Foxx's character was pretty redundant - every scene that he was in was exactly the same. Jennifer Hudson played a good role, which I might have enjoyed watching had the movie been 20 minutes long. Eddie Murphy was the best part of the movie, but even he couldn't save this flick from draining down the toilet.

But this movie did affect my life: my family now sporadically sings to each other during regular conversations. I was trying to tell my dad how much I hated this movie when he started playing a high C on the piano, and then my mom turned off all the lights except for the bright, spotlight-like bulb directly above me. Betty did a shoo-wop in the background, while I grabbed my old Afro wig out of my closet.

To make a long story short, save yourself the trouble of going to see Dreamgirls, or as I call it, "Nightmare Girls," and just have someone kick you in the nuts and take your money. It'll be less painful in the long run.

Thursday, January 25, 2007

PeeWee's Pizza

My friend Shannon told me about a relatively new pizzeria in the LSU area called PeeWee's. So, being the pizza connoisseur that I am, Betty and I went to check it out on Thursday night.

PeeWee's serves two types of pizza: New York style (aka, regular pizza) and Chicago-style pizza.

The New York-style pizza was okay. Betty liked it more than I did. What's great about the New York-style pizza at PeeWee's is that it's one humongous slice of pizza that's cut in half - so basically it's two pieces. It's always great when you order one piece of pizza and two magically appear. No complaints from me!

PeeWee's New York-style pizza is meant to be eaten like so: you hold the entire slice(s) in your hand, slightly fold it, then jam it into your mouth. Chew anywhere between 6 to 24 times (depending on cheesiness) then swallow. The cheese is plentiful, by the way.

PeeWee's Chicago-style pizza was excellent. Chi-town pizza is more of an "inverse" pizza, where the layers are as follows: crust, "toppings," cheese, sauce. The crust goes up the side of the pan, and it's very comparable to pizza-flavored lasagna.

Although the Chicago-style pizza was my favorite, make no mistake that my feelings on the Chicago Bears have changed. Rex Grossman still blows. Don't you think Rex Grossman looks like Katherine Heigl (from Grey's Anatomy) but with smaller breasts? You know I'm right.

PeeWee's service was excellent as well. I didn't scope out the bathrooms - maybe Wild Wayne will read this and decide to submit a bathroom reporte sometime soon.

If you're interested in checking out PeeWee's, head on over to the corner of Acadian and Perkins. PeeWee's is right alongside Juban's, although there's a chain link fence in between the two buildings. You can either walk around the fence, hop over it, or if you're really a hardcore pizza dude, bring along your chainsaw and pave the way for easier access to PeeWee's.

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Paris Hilton's Private Items on Internet

Here's a shocker:

Paris Hilton's Private Items are on the Internet. And for those of you who haven't seen Paris Hilton's privates on the Internet, welcome to 2007.

In a related story, a brain harvest probe in Maine ended without anyone getting charged.

What would one do with a bunch of brains? I mean, if I wanted to steal an armored truck filled with brains in formaldehyde, what could I do with them? Could I sell them to a research institution? Could I throw them at my arch-nemesis? Could we put one back into Paris Hilton's empty skull?

I like the idea of a brain bank. It would be nice to say, hmm, I'm only using 10% of my brain at the moment - why don't I trade it in for some cash money? I bet my thalamus could buy a buttload of pizza.

And without a brain, I might even start to think that Paris Hilton is somewhat entertaining. That would be so hot.

Monday, January 22, 2007

Chinese Fireworks

You might have heard that the Chinese shot a missile into space to destroy an old weather satellite. You also may have heard that the US was pissed because China was able to successfully destroy a satellite that is in the same orbit as US spy satellites. Lastly, you may have heard that Chinese food is really made with cats.

First of all, there is nothing to fear: the Chinese missile was a full inch shorter than the average US missile.

Secondly, I always find it amusing when the US complains about spy satellites. Sure, we need to spy on China, mainly to make sure they're building our computers correctly, but the argument is as silly as a group of guys suing the principal for fixing that hole in between the guys' and girls' locker room. (We lost that suit, by the way.)

Third, if the Great Wall is serving cat disguised as Sesame Chicken, then that's okay with me. Just don't let me find any whiskers in my Sweet and Sour sauce.

Finally, even though China's satellite blast apparently caused a lot of debris in space, there is no need to worry about the Sirius or XM satellites: they orbit at a different height than China's weather satellite. But the Space Station is probably screwed, which may have been part of China's plans all along.

What may not have been in China's plans was a line of rings around the Earth made from trash, which the US could then build spy stations upon. I guess Ringworld hasn't been translated into Chinese yet.

In conclusion, it is a well-known fact that you never start a land war in Asia. However, with the birth of Earth's trash ring, a War of the Rings in space is inevitable.

Sunday, January 21, 2007

Congratulations Saints

Congratulations to the Saints for a great season of football.

After going 10 - 6 in the regular season and beating the Eagles in the playoffs, the Saints lost the NFC championship game to the Bears by a score of 39 - 14. Rex Grossman played like a little girl, which is not to say that I don't know any little girls that would have played a lot better than he did. But the Bears' defense was just too much for the Saints' offense, and they capitalized on a handful of Saints fumbles.

But the Saints did a lot more than just play football this year. They've helped rebuild the city of New Orleans; they've helped give people hope. Most importantly, they've given people a great diversion from the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. They may also be responsible for a 14.7% increase in flashing on Bourbon Street.

Congratulations as well to Bears' coach Lovie Smith, who is the first black coach to make it to the Super Bowl. As of writing this, the Pats are beating the Colts 28 - 21, but if the Colts come through then I think Tony Dungy and Lovie Smith should wrestle to see who is the best black coach in the NFL. After all, Dungy shouldn't be stripped of the chance to be the first black coach in the Super Bowl simply because the time of the AFC championship game was later than the NFC championship game.

Thanks again, Saints, for everything you've done for us this year, especially your efforts with Bourbon Street.

Saturday, January 20, 2007

Lessons from Oprah

I try to learn something new every day, and today I found a new teacher:

Oprah.

Today I learned that Oprah was sexually abused as a young girl. I also learned that she was pregnant as a teenager, and that the baby was born premature and died shortly after birth. I also learned that someone in her own family gave this information to National Enquirer for $19,000.

You can read all about that here, or you can just take my word for it.

Oprah has billions. Yet someone in her own family is so greedy that he or she is willing to expose these skeletons in her closet to the tabloids for a relatively measly sum of money, instead of obtaining this money the old fashion way: by kissing butt for years and years and years.

So here's the lesson:

After I hit the $250 million Powerball Jackpot, I'm not telling any of my friends or family. I won't blog about it. I won't move to Switzerland at the drop of a dime because you might even suspect it. I won't do any of this because at least one of you, AND YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE, will give away some incredibly potent information away to some cheap magazine like National Enquirer at my expense. You will ruin my good name, and for what, $14,250 after taxes?

Or maybe I wouldn't care if I were that rich. Who knows?

If I did win the lottery, I like to think that I would pay for all of my cousins to go to college. I like to think that I would donate money to libraries and medical schools, as well as to create scholarships for the underprivileged. I also like to think that I would invest in new businesses and help bring about changes in the world through new technology. And of course I would buy my wife anything she wanted, like a patio.

But realistically, I would probably blow it all on a Saints Super Bowl party.

So maybe you should tell the tabloids about me after I'm famous, because I might need to borrow some money from you at a later date. Just make sure to get more than $19k!

Thursday, January 18, 2007

Space Suits

Four families are suing MySpace after some young female users were assaulted by people they met on MySpace.

This type of lawsuit against MySpace isn't a new phenomenon - parents today expect everyone else to raise their children, and will sue anyone who does not comply. Monitoring their children's time on the computer or limiting access to certain sites, or even just making sure that their daughters don't meet up with strange perverts late at night, is too much of a hassle for today's parents. If they did those things, their children might not think of them as their friends, and then they wouldn't have anyone to throw late night drinking parties for. It's tough being a parent.

I'm surprised there aren't more lawsuits involving online dating sites.

Putting the blame on MySpace is ridiculous. Having said that, the girls certainly didn't deserve to be assaulted, even if they are dumb enough to meet with strange men that they met online. I don't think the parents are entirely to blame, either.

The blame obviously lies with companies who distribute spyware.

You see, spyware is software that is installed on your computer against your will and/or without your knowledge. Spyware keeps track of your personal information: it may track which sites you visit, track your purchases, or install a key logger to steal the password to your online bank account.

And since spyware distributors have a better idea of what your children are doing on MySpace than you do, they should step in and make sure that your dumbass daughter doesn't go off on her own at night and get sexually assaulted by a stranger.

Or you can actually take an interest in what your children are doing.

Or you can just sue MySpace. Let me know how that goes.

Wednesday, January 17, 2007

Spanish Influenza

I was just reading Yahoo News and came across this article about how scientists resurrected the 1918 Spanish Flu and tested it out on monkeys. They then decided, in what the article is calling a "first-of-its-kind experiment," that people's immune systems "likely were overstimulated, causing their lungs to rapidly fill with fluid," and thus killing the victim.

First of its kind study? Hmm....

I'm currently reading "The Great Influenza: The Epic Story of the Deadliest Plague In History" by John M. Barry. This book came out in February 2004, yet, it has all of the information above, plus much more.

And according to this book, scientists, doctors and coroners doing autopsies during the flu pandemic came to the same conclusion 90 years ago. So how can this article or any scientists claim that we are just now understanding how the 1918 Spanish Flu worked?

Another reason to visit your local bookstore: you, too, can sneer at scientific advancements if you read enough!

In other news, I saw that Kevin Federline (aka, K-fed or Cletus) is going to be doing a Super Bowl commercial. The description actually looks pretty funny. Plus maybe someone can slip him the 1918 Spanish Flu and make this year's Super Bowl the best ever.

People Watching

What I like best about American Idol isn't listening to the terrible singers; it isn't about the good singers, either. It isn't Simon, Paula, Randy or Seacrest.

It's the people watching.

It's like sitting on a bench at a theme park or fair and just watching the people go by. You're bound to see a handful of freaks throughout the day. That alone is worth the price of admission.

It's why we go to Bourbon Street. Well, for that and for the more obvious reasons.

Just because someone can't sing doesn't mean they don't have other talents. Some of the people that were called the most horrible singers on the face of the planet really weren't all that bad.

But let's face it, some of those people would need to be sterilized, if they weren't so much fun to watch. Keep up the bad work, gang.

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

Worst Band in the World

I was going to update my Facebook profile to list my favorite music as being the top 10 worst bands in the world. (It was funny at the time.) But then I started searching for the worst bands in the world, and that's when it got seriously funny.

When I searched for "worst band in the world," Google recommended Creed.

I knew that Google ranked results based on a couple of different factors. This ranking is called Page Ranking, after Google co-founder Larry Page.

And we've seen this kind of thing happen in the past. Check out what you get when you Google "miserable failure."

The Tanory Tantrum used to be the top result when one searched for "Arkansas Handshake." But no longer. Maybe by mentioning it in this blog I'll regain my spot as top Arkansas Handshaker - er, maybe I don't really want that. I have to think about this one.

Anyway, the point is that I thought Nickelback was the worst band in the world until Google set me straight. Now I know. And knowing is half the battle.

Monday, January 15, 2007

Globes a-Golden

I love to watch movies, but I haven't seen anything brand spanking new in a while. And since all of the fancy-pants Golden Globe-winning movies are currently in that light golden zone between theater and DVD, I turn to my beloved NetFlix and ask for inspiration.

As much as I love computers and animation, I think most new movies put too much emphasis on special effects and not enough on plot, dialogue or steamy sex scenes. So instead of getting the latest and greatest, we've been trying to hit all the classics, like "Gone With the Wind," "Casablanca," "Chinatown" and "Garfield: A Tail of Two Kitties." We still have "Midnight Cowboys" and "Logan's Run" on our queue.

The last movie we watched was Godfather III. Personally, I liked it better than Godfather II. Actually, although there were a lot of great scenes in the second one, I think I like it the least of all of the Godfathers. The best one, of course, is still Godfather's Pizza.

Another love we've developed is watching a TV series all at one time on DVD. My dad got me hooked on Rome, from HBO. What I like the most about Rome is that it feels like one of the great classic movies: it takes place a long time ago, has great dialogue, and there are several steamy sex scenes laced throughout the series. You just can't beat the combination of senseless violence, interesting history and naked women. Great choice, Pop!

So I'm looking to update my NetFlix queue with something interesting. If you have any suggestions, please drop me a line.

Sunday, January 14, 2007

Smiling Bob and the Lighthouse

You've all seen "Smiling Bob." He's the mascot for Enzyte, the penis enlargement pill. Enzyte's parent company is now being fined a hefty 2.5 million bucks for basically lying about their products.

That sure is a large sack of money.

Enzyte's main problem is that they approached the subject in a very immature manner. They tried to make jokes that middle school kids would think are hilarious, and in the process ended up making claims that they couldn't back up. This fine is just the beginning, too... other lawsuits may explode, and they're probably going to get pretty messy.

Enzyte needs to take a page out of the Cialis playbook, and let the scenery do the talking.

Cialis isn't a penis enlargement pill; it's an erectile dysfunction pill. And what I appreciate most about the Cialis commercials is the wonderful use of subliminal messages.

Here's a description of the Cialis commercial. See if you can spot the subliminality:

Two old people are walking along a shore. The old man pops a pill. In the distance, you see a tall and streamlined lighthouse. There's even a small building attached to the base of this very phallic-shaped lighthouse. There are probably two nuts living in that small building, if you ask me.

This old guy needs some substinence, so he and his lady friend get some ice cream. The woman takes a couple licks from the ice cream cone, then shoves the entire thing in her mouth. She wipes her chin with a napkin.

I'm not making this up. This is a real commercial. But wait, it gets better.

Like I said before, they're walking along a shore. The waves crash into the shore, spraying white foam everywhere. From the camera's angle, most of this foam hits the woman.

Ah, Cialis. This is marketing at its finest.

Saturday, January 13, 2007

On Eagle's Wings

The Saints beat the Philadelphia Eagles by a score of 27 - 24 on Saturday night to advance to the NFC championship game. The Saints will play the winner of the Chicago Bears and the Seattle Seahawks game which will take place on Sunday afternoon, then will crush whoever they play in the Super Bowl.

The Saints were able to beat the Eagles by a combination of my holding my breath, sitting in a specific position during certain plays, and yelling at the telly. My patented "chair slap" also sparked the defense during the 4th quarter.

After former Saints player Dante Stallworth caught a 75 yard touchdown reception, I yelled at the top of my lungs and sent bad vibes to the Eagles' offense. Afterwards, one of their offensive guards pulled a groin, but was back in a couple of plays. Yeah, that was my doing.

In conclusion, I will try to do my voodoo magic on both the Chicago Bears and Seattle Seahawks throughout the rest of the night, just to make sure that I mentally crush both teams prior to the Saints playing them. If you have a snake, preferably one with fangs and active venom glands, I may need to borrow it. I challenge you to do your part, and only light cars on fire that have Illinois or Washington license plates.

Happy Little Trees

Starting a new job is stressful. So when I got home on Friday and saw Bob Ross painting a beautiful river scene with happy little trees on "The Joy of Painting," I had to sit down and watch.

The stress just melted away! Luckily, I was able to mix some of that melted stress with Hunter Green and some White to make a nice little shrubbery.

Bob Ross

People make fun of Bob Ross a lot. But getting up in front of a camera and painting on the fly takes nuts. I love to watch him paint, and therefore I'm able to look past his two first names and white man's afro.

So here's to the memory of Bob Ross. May the trees in Heaven all be happy, little, and overlooking a stream.

Thursday, January 11, 2007

Killer Ts

If I were a type of cell in the human body, I would be a Killer T cell. The T can either stand for Tanory or Tantrum, but either way, other cells better watch out, because my crazy ass has got a quota to fill.

Now, you may be asking yourself, what are Killer T cells? And why was I thinking of what type of cell I would be?

Well, a Killer T cell is a special type of white blood cell that kills anything in your body that is, to put it in laymen's terms, going apeshit. Killer T cells usually seek and destroy other cells in your body that are infected with a virus or are malfunctioning in some way, like a tumor.

So basically, Killer T cells are like executioners. I prefer the term "lictor" myself.

Killing your own cells is not usually a good thing. There are a lot of diseases caused by your own body turning against itself, but I would do my best not to cause any of these diseases. Vote for me for Killer T!

I like to think of my body as a big Internet network. It's really not that far-fetched: both the Internet and my body are comprised of billions of individual entities (ie, cells / computers), set up very similarly (basic cell structure / tcp/ip), that interact with electronic signals (nerves / magic).

Viruses are like hackers. They get into the system, make a cell do what it wants - which is usually enslave a cell and force it to clone the virus several million times - which ultimately destroys the cell. I know of many instances where a computer had to either be reformatted or thrown away after a virus / hacker got to it.

So if a hacker virus gets into a cell, the Killer T has to kill the host cell, otherwise it will produce a bajillion viruses. It's one cell's death vs. the possibility of a million other infected cells.

Now, to get to the reason why I was thinking of being a Killer T cell.... I've been reading "The Great Influenza: The Epic Story of the Deadliest Plague in History," by John M. Barry (who also wrote "Rising Tide," about the Mississippi River Flood of 1927).

Barry doesn't have only good things to say about Killer T cells. In fact, Killer T cells seemed to play a big part in a lot of the deaths from that particular pandemic. But nonetheless, Killer T cells have the coolest name, and that's really what I'm after.

In conclusion, I would have paid a lot more attention in Science and History if the curriculum were more exciting. I urge teachers to let their students role play the infection, enslaving, cloning and execution life cycle of viral and bacterial infections. If you need me to dress up in my plush Killer T suit, please leave a comment as to when and where I need to appear.

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

TUBEs

When starting a new job, one of the first things that you need to do is to get your benefits, such as health insurance, set up.

I started a new job last week, and I've been filling out paperwork like crazy. In fact, I've been typing on the computer for so many years that I've completely lost the ability to use a pen or pencil. This has severely hampered my ability to sign my name on the billions of sheets of papers that require my very famous and future collector's item signature.

But I don't sign any document haphazardly. The fine print is so important in all of the documents, and if you don't read it then you're in for a few surprises.

For instance, in one health care provider's fine print, it mentions that every visit to specialists on pages 18 - 24 will be accompanied by a TUBE.

For those of you who don't have med school friends or watch Scrubs often, a TUBE is a Totally Unnecessary Breast Exam.

This was, to say the least, shocking. If I had not read the fine print, then I or my wife would have had a TUBE.

Instead, I chose a health care provider whose fine print specified that they would give every patient a TUDE. I'll let you figure that one out yourself. But needless to say, I'll be going to the doctor every other week.

Tuesday, January 09, 2007

An Unwrapped Present

Over the weekend, while cleaning, we found an unwrapped present with my wife's name on it. I videotaped her opening it. Please enjoy.



Use this link if you can't see the embedded movie.

(Okay, you got me, I was too busy watching the LSU basketball game to think up anything to write about. Well, that's not true, I had a great story about waffle irons, pumpernickel, and a stage coach, but I couldn't get the denouement right. I'll try harder tomorrow.)

Monday, January 08, 2007

The Titanic

I'm watching the Tostitos BCS National Championship game, and I couldn't help noticing that Ohio State's band played the theme song to Titanic at halftime.

It's 34 - 14 in Florida's favor right now, and I don't know if it's entirely appropriate for Ohio State's band to be playing a song about an indestructible ship getting sunk by a gator-shaped iceberg.

I guess you can say, Ohio State's ship sprung a Leak. Bad pun intended!

But who knows. The tide could turn. Ohio State might come back to win.

Or maybe Tebow will get his leg broken in twelve places - that alone is worth watching the rest of the game.

But if Ohio State's band comes out onto the field again, I may have to just watch this thing on mute.

Sunday, January 07, 2007

Cashing in on Christmas

For Christmas, my brother-in-law Danny got the entire family tickets to see the LSU men's basketball team play UCONN on Saturday.

Not only did LSU win 66-49, but I think that I gave one of UCONN's players rabies when I bit him in the leg earlier in the day. Bonus!

As I'm sure you already know, one of LSU's best players, Glen Davis, goes by the nickname of "Big Baby."

But he's not really a baby. He's a grown man. He can dunk, shoot 3's, and run an entire Chinese buffet out of business in less than an hour.

Maybe sportscasters just like the baby version better.

Friday, January 05, 2007

Fanory Fandom

If you're a fan of Tanory then you're officially a Fanory. Consider this your membership letter into the Fanory Fandom.

And if you are a Fanory, then you're in luck, because you get great membership deals on all types of cool stuff. For instance, I have here some old books that I couldn't even sell or trade back to the used book store. Anyone want or somehow need an autographed (by me) copy of Shardik by Richard Adams? It makes a great gift for any Chicago Bears fan.

And don't think your Fanory membership is limited to books. Oh no! On the contrary, I have a couple of t-shirts, polos and long sleeve shirts with my previous job's logo on them. They make great gifts for kids - they can dress up and pretend that they are me at my last job.

Lastly, I am proud to announce the first Fan of the Month award, which goes to the memory of my dog Chubby. Here is a picture of a similar dog. I miss my dog very much. I hope I can shame my wife into letting me have a dog, so dog-that-looks-like-Chubby, do your magic.

Tanory Tantrum Fan of the Month: The Memory of Chubby Tanory


Why is the Memory of Chubby the Fan of the Month? Well, for starters, Chubby could skateboard better than your average teenage hoodlum. Secondly, I walked him a lot, and that meant not only did I spend a lot of time with him, but he got me outside and exercising. Third, as mentioned previously, maybe this will help me get a dog.

Thanks to all the Fanories! I'm a big fan of all of you, too.

Thursday, January 04, 2007

Notre Dame ou Notre Chienne?

Notre Dame has a great history. Here's what I like best about Notre Dame's history:

January 3, 2007 - Allstate Sugar Bowl: LSU 41 - Notre Dame 14

Actually, what I really like best about Notre Dame's history is the story of Rudy, who carries his friend on his hunched back up Mount Doom to destroy a championship ring in order to defeat the evil Lord Voldemort. That's Irish pride, baby!

But seriously, during the Sugar Bowl pre-game festivities, I thoroughly enjoyed learning about some of Notre Dame's landmarks, such as "Touchdown Jesus." I do have some questions, though - how do they know he is signaling for a touchdown, and not just a successful field goal or PAT? I like "PAT Jesus" better, myself. Although "Field Goal Joseph" really has a nice ring to it. Do they have any statues of Joseph laying around that I can use as a source pic?

Also, why was actor Dennis Haysbert (the guy who plays the president on "24" and the face of Allstate Auto Insurance) walking in the middle of the road in each of Allstate's 457 commercials? Should we really be taking insurance advice from someone doing something obviously dangerous and destined to hike our insurance premiums?

Finally, since we're on the subject of football, bowl games and insurance, I predict that the Saints make it to the Super Bowl. Hell will start to freeze over, but don't worry, global warming will take its toll.

First Day at Work

I started my new job today. I have a new cubicle to pimp out, a new computer on which to download FireFox, and most importantly, a new bathroom stall to conquer.

Speaking of stalls, I got lost on the way to the restroom today. My building is huge, and the maze of cubicles, hallways and conference rooms makes it seem like a big labyrinth.

In fact, just walking from the front door to my cube takes almost five minutes. Seriously, I was winded by the time I got there.

Then I got lost going to the dining area to eat lunch. I was on the complete opposite side of the building. I had to stop someone to ask for directions - which men only do in the direst of circumstances - and then was so ashamed that I avoided eye contact and grudgingly admitted that it was my first day.

My hand cramped up while filling out the HR paperwork. I've been typing for so long that I've lost the ability to use a pen or pencil. Eventually I just rubbed ink all over my palm and just stamped each form with my mangled hand.

I have a new project at work, too. My mad skillz are being put to the test early!

So all in all, it was a pretty good day. Hopefully tomorrow will be even better. Laser Tag opens at 4, so I may be out of the office from 4 to 4:30.

Tuesday, January 02, 2007

A Visionary

Today I got new lenses for my glasses. I can see!

How strong is your prescription? I bet mine is stronger - my prescription could kick your prescription's ass!

So it's not as cool as having a wireless receiver attached to each optic nerve and cameras surgically implanted in my retinas, but I guess it'll do.

It's amazing how clear and crisp everything is now! Did you know that they put tiny stones in the concrete? I never knew! I couldn't see that far! And those big billboards with the funny pictures on them - they have words on those, too! Amazing!

And the zit on my jaw - I've never seen a clearer and more well-defined zit! Die, zit!

I feel so good that I'm able to see again that I've decided to make 2007 my self-improvement year. First I've improved my site - goal accomplished. Next I want to improve my weight - I will not rest until I am perfectly spherical. Third, I am on a quest to find a soap that will continue making me Zest-fully clean days after showering.

I'll let you know how it all turns out. What are your resolutions?

Monday, January 01, 2007

Best Day Ever!

Our first act of 2007 was to go to the Audubon Zoo and watch the monkeys do it.

But I'm getting ahead of myself....

We always try to do something incredibly awesome for New Year's, because New Year's is kind of a big deal in my household. And why not? There's the whole "entering the new year" thing going on, which is fun to celebrate. There are fireworks - always a plus. Then there's the making out at midnight, which is the real reason to be excited.

Last year we went to Fort Worth to bring in 2005 with our friends Matt and Nicole. This year they came to us, and we partied like it was 1999.

We decided to bring in the New Year in New Orleans. We also decided to eat our way through the waning moments of 2006 at Antoine's, timing it just right so our final bite of Baked Alaska corresponded with when we'd get to make out with each other.

But to do that, I had to get a babysitter for the Wii. Franklin had better not have beaten my high score on Madden, or I'm going to yank his stitched smirk clean off his face.

Matt and Nicole's flight from Dallas was canceled, but they had to be in New Orleans on Saturday for a wedding. They rented a car and drove through the night, arriving in N.O. at 6 am. Three of their four bags happened to make it to New Orleans several days after they arrived, and one bag was flying to N.O. as Matt and Nicole were flying back into Dallas. That's American Airlines for you.

But something that Matt and Nicole were able to bring in from Dallas was a SpongeBob Squarepants hat that said "Best Day Ever." I wore it to the Zoo today, which is where we went after our 2006 hangovers died down.

I was happy to see some action going on in New Orleans. Lake View is being built back up, and the rest of the city is making progress. The city still smells like a sewer, so at least some things haven't changed since before the Hurricane.

Our first day of 2007 was the best day ever. My resolution is to make every day the best day ever.