Thursday, May 31, 2007

An Office Space Moment

I had a total Office Space moment at work this week.

I sent a couple of documents to the printer but they never printed. A couple of lights on the printer were flashing, and in big LED letters, the printer told me that there was a PAPER JAM. I love technology.

Now some of my programming friends are strictly into software - they "don't do hardware," as my friend Shannon humorously puts it. But I'm a pretty adventurous guy, and I figure the Tech Team is always there to buy a new printer if I blow one up at work, so what can it hurt to open the hood and have a looksy? Maybe take out the toner cartridge and dig around in the innards of the printer....

I opened the printer and did not see any paper stuck anywhere. I closed the printer hood and the printer recalibrated for a couple of seconds. Then it hummed a little, off-pitch. Then it flashed it's filthy PAPER JAM sign at me.

Why does it say paper jam when there is no paper jam!

I called the head of the Tech Team over and spastically illustrated my dilemma. He opened the printer hood and looked for a paper jam, but didn't see anything. After pondering rather loudly and rubbing his chin a little too gingerly for my tastes, he closed the printer hood, the printer hummed, then pointed its digital fingers at us and laughed.

It was possessed!

When your electronics give you an error message, it's hard to try other things. For instance, I didn't check the paper tray to see if the printer had any paper, because the paper tray is not where a paper jam occurs. But the problem was simply that there was no paper. The printer was giving us the wrong message.

That's a bad printer! Bad bad bad!

I spent the rest of the day taking the paper out of the tray and watching people open the printer hood to try to figure out the problem. The head of the Tech Team played a really good role, acting surprised every single time. Go team!

Wednesday, May 30, 2007

The Lottery

We recently went to a wedding where some of the wedding favors were lotto scratch-off tickets. We won $2 on one of our tickets, then cashed it in for two Powerball quick pick tickets.

I didn't realize that the Powerball was held on Wednesday - I thought it was only done on Saturday. That's how little I know about the Powerball. But we held onto our tickets and diligently scourged the Intarweb for the winning numbers at 10:02 PM.

Guess what - we won! The jackpot! $20 million total or a $9.2 million cash payout! Booyah! Goodbye, job, hello rolling around in hundred dollar bills! Who wants a new house? You do? No prob, let me call my accountant.

Okay, so we lost miserably. We only managed to hit a single number with our two quick picks. We suck!

I don't shoulder the blame. I blame the computer that quickly picked the random numbers. If only it would have taken its time! Technology, bah!

But it wasn't all for naught. We got to thinking about what we would do with millions of dollars. Anything that gets you to really think is good - for instance, "Dancing with the Stars" gets you to think to yourself, "What would happen if someone was dancing like that within arm's reach of me in a bar and I was somehow allowed to bring a shovel inside with me?" See how constructive thinking can be?

Here's what we decided we'd do if we won the lottery:

First off, we'd go on vacation. I hear Myrtle Beach is nice this time of year.

Second, I would get that patio that is my perpetual Valentine's gift to Betty every year. Then we'd sell our house.

Third, having just sold my house I'd need a new one. Preferably one with a patio. And/or a beach house (because you can't mow sand!). Or a boat that somehow had a patio. I don't know, I have to think about this one.

Fourth, I'd hire bodyguards for all of my family, because someone would definitely try to kidnap someone for ransom. Having bodyguards also makes you look important. I'd include really cool sunglasses in this package deal.

Finally, I would assimilate my closest friends and family around me to be my personal accountants, investment advisers, realtors, and Wii-shoulder massagers.

What would you do if you won millions? (Other than buy thousands of "I Love Ground Chuck" shirts?)

Tuesday, May 29, 2007

Man vs. Nature

Add another reason to hate doing yard work.

My wife and I had been contemplating pulling up a large "grass" from our flowerbed. Why anyone would plant a "grass" in the first place is beyond me, but the previous owners of our house did just that. We've trimmed it a couple of times to try to make it look more impressive, but there's just nothing that majestic about grass.

So today I got off work earlier than I expected (which means, right on time) and got to go home to a little rest and relaxation. Or so I thought! My wife was waiting for me with the gloves in one hand and a shovel in the other.

So out I trotted, wasting as much time as possible by "accidentally" dropping my shovel in the neighbor's yard, then pretending to have stepped in an ant pile and become covered by a billion tiny aliens trying to suck the blood from my incredibly chiseled leg.

My wife has a way of looking at me like a parent looks at a child - that stare that means it's time to get back to work or there will be consequences.

So, brushing off the imaginary ants and realizing that I had no remaining means of escape, I squared off against my nemesis. And nemesis it was. There has never been a greater foe than this monster grass.

My first attack was to the grass's front. I brandished my fiberglass shovel and lunged for a ground attack. I found good purchase, jammed my foot into the shovel (and hopefully into the grass's groin), then leaned heavily on the shovel's handle to pop that bastard grass right out!

Except it didn't budge.

The grass counter-attacked with a spell that caused my back to spasm. My weakness! How did it know!?

My second attack consisted of clipping several tentacles off of the beast-grass. It's severed limbs clawed at my legs as I thrust the clippers into the grass's leafy maw.

I had the grass halfway up when I realized the tarp in the flowerbed was on the grass's side. It was helping it! Being an ally of the grass made the tarp my enemy, so with fire in my eyes and a scream in my throat, I jumped atop the grass's body, raised my shovel so the sun glinted off the iron, then embedded it into the tarp's side with all my might.

The sun turned red. An earthquake quaked (or I just got dizzy). With one final yank, the grass was uprooted!

Victory!

Can I go play Wii now, Wife?

Monday, May 28, 2007

System Check

Occasionally I do a system check on myself.

I do this by first announcing, in my "outside voice," that I am going to do a system check. This gives anyone in my vicinity (ie, my wife) a heads up that some crazy stuff is about to happen, as well as testing my vocal chords.

Then I raise one hand to eye-level and wiggle my fingers for a couple of seconds. Then I wiggle the fingers on my other hand.

Next, the toes: a little wiggle here, a little wiggle there, and done! Now that I know my toes are still in working order, time to get to business.

Pelvic thrusts are a great way to verify that all kinds of muscles are working. I do air humps for a good thirty seconds or so, then move onto lunges.

Basically, I do a bunch of stuff to make sure that my body is still working. Once I know my body is working, time to put that awesome body to use!

Well, after a good system check, it's probably better to take a snooze before doing anything too strenuous. In fact, writing the blog was pretty tough - it's time for a nap!

Sunday, May 27, 2007

Goodbye, Vern

Saturday we released our turtle-son, Vern, back into the wild.

We brought him to a creek that's right by our house and set him free. For a second he stood, staring at us, waiting for us to catch him again. Then when he realized he was free, he ran his green ass to the creek and jumped right in! Splooch!

Good luck, buddy!

I know that Vern will do well out on his own. If he was able to survive as a Kindergarten class pet then he's pretty much set for anything. Nothing in the wild will be scarier than what he's already gone through. Plus, we watched endless hours of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles together, so I'm pretty confident that he can fight off any hawks or mutant fish that try to eat him.

Is this what Empty Nest syndrome feels like? This feeling like there's a hole in your heart, as if some piece of you is missing? Or do I just have indigestion from the blackened chicken breast I ate at Capital City Grill last night?

All we could do, as parents, was to teach our turtle-son to think for himself. Now it's in God's hands.

I hope he finds some hot turtle babes to get his groove on with. If there was one thing I tried to pound into his tiny green, red-striped head, it was to enjoy life and wax some hot turtle shell at every opportunity.

Goodbye, Vern, and good luck.

Bathroom Horror

What's up with me and bathrooms? We just don't jive.

Every day is a new adventure.

On Wednesday, I walked into the middle stall at work and voila, there was a dude sitting on the pot, with a laptop sitting on his knees. I didn't know what this guy was doing, and I didn't stay to find out. He shouted, "Whoa whoa!" and I slammed the door, then stood outside of it, fuming.

I had been victimized!

Let's assume, for decency's sake, that this guy was just doing work on the toilet. Maybe this was the one sanctuary in the building where someone wouldn't walk up to him, throw some papers on his desk and tell him to have it done in an hour. Fine.

But lock the damn door!

When you lock the door to the bathrooms at my work, it doesn't just keep other people out. Our stall doors are like port-o-let doors - there's a label on the outside that says "vacant" when it's vacant and "occupied" when someone is taking a dump with a laptop on their knees. But if you don't lock the door, nobody knows.

So I stood outside the door, deciding whether or not to verbally abuse the guy for being a retard or just go to the next stall and make his life a stinky hell for the next few minutes. In the end I did both.

Then tonight, we went out with our new roomies Matt and Nicole to Tsunami's. Once there I did a bathroom reporte and found a woman in the Men's restroom (which automatically gives Tsunami's bathroom 10 wipes!). The women was telling some guy that she was sexually frustrated, and most of the guys agreed to help her out in this area. (For my part, I told her I'd help her out but that she'd still be sexually frustrated afterwards.) Fortunately for everyone involved, she left with a random stranger before chlamydia reared its ugly head.

That's my bathroom stories for this week. I'm sure I'll have something else for next week. In the meantime, make sure to lock the doors before your pants hit the floor!

Friday, May 25, 2007

The In-Laws No More

From what I understand, it's atypical for me to love my in-laws so much. Most guys have issues with their mothers-in-law, but not me - I'm a momma's boy, even with my wife's mom. And my father-in-law, well, he's a great guy - he's always been cool, even when I first started dating his daughter. (My dad always threatened my sister's boyfriends, getting videotaped confessions about when they would bring her home, oaths on not touching her in any way that would be "misconstrued" as sexual in nature, etc. Thankfully I only had to undergo a background check by my FBI cousin-in-law.)

My brothers-in-law are really great, too. But last night as I was writing about going to see Tool with my brothers-in-law, I really hated to keep writing "brothers-in-law." I don't know why I don't like typing that out, but it annoys me for some reason. I feel like I should just be able to call them my "brothers."

So I come to you with a solution, in-laws:

Become Tanorys.

That's correct, go down to the Justice of the Peace and do what you need to do to legally change your last name to Tanory. It won't be so bad - Betty has already converted to dark side, and she seems to like it. Plus, then my brothers-in-law will be just my brothers, and I won't have to type "brothers-in-law" anymore.

Oh yeah, and since I'm the first Bobby Tanory, my new brother Bobby will have to be "Bobby 2." Oh, fine, you can keep your title, Number 1, but only because I've already made business cards with "Bobby 2" on them.

A Day to Remember, Part 2

While writing my previous post, I accidentally hit the Enter key at the bottom right-hand side of my keyboard, and that posted my blog. I would just go back and edit it, but it's already set to be sent out via email. Dang my stupid keyboard!

Note to self: write blog in Notepad and then post when you're ready, moron!

Anyway...

Thursday night I went to see the band Tool with my brothers-in-law Bobby and Danny. For those of you who don't know, my brother-in-law Bobby is "Bobby 1" and I am "Bobby 2." Sometimes my name is just shortened to "2." There's a "Bobby 3" out there somewhere, so not only am I the middle child in my own house but I'm also the middle Bobby in the family.

Middle Bobbies are awesome!

Before we went to the Tool concert, we decided to stop off at McDonald's on the corner of Drusilla and Jefferson to get our grub on. It was at this point in time that I was happy that I went to church earlier in the day, because it was only by the divine grace of God that nobody was shot.

That's right, massacre at McDonald's, and I'm not talking about chickens, cows or whatever animal the Filet O' Fish is made out of (I know it's not actually fish).

We had just ordered and obtained our food when, all of a sudden, two black female McDonald's employees start yelling "Bitch! Bitch! Bitch!" at each other and slapping and punching each other. Apparently, one of the girls was sleeping with the other girl's boyfriend or baby-daddy or whatever. At least, that's what we assumed when the girl who had just taken our order started yelling, "I got your man! I got your man!"

The manager at Mickey D's sacrificed his safety and well-being by putting himself in the middle of the two girls. He was knocked around pretty badly. I have to say, he was pretty brave - I know better than to get in the middle of two girls fighting. But it was all for naught - when he held one girl down, the other girl just had free shots at close range on the other girl's face.

While the girls were punching and kicking each other, Danny walks up to the counter and tells one of the guys standing around in shock that he ordered a PLAIN double cheeseburger, not a REGULAR double cheeseburger.

Always good timing, D! (At least they didn't spit in his food - the employees were too busy watching the two girls get thrown out of the restaurant.)

Actually, Danny and Bobby appeared to be pretty shocked about the whole thing. Growing up in a private Catholic school in Baton Rouge can shelter you from things like that. I, on the other hand, went to public school in Lafayette, so for me it seemed pretty normal.

During the fight, a mom who was eating with her toddler and infant quickly packed up the kids and fled to the safety of her SUV. While she was driving away, she stopped to tell another mom who was about to enter McDonald's about what had happened. We could see the women through the windows (that's correct, we stayed through the fight and just kept eating - we had a Tool show to get to, ya heard me?!) and the mom had her baby in her lap in the driver's seat.

You see, America! Britney Spears wasn't lying when she said that people in Louisiana drive around with their babies in their laps!

So in conclusion, Thursday was a day to remember for several reasons. First, it was the ten year anniversary of my friend's death. Second, we saw Tool. Third, we learned that it's safer to go to a Tool concert with a bunch of crazy, drugged-up metalheads than it is to eat at McDonald's in Baton Rouge.

Thursday, May 24, 2007

A Day to Remember

What a day, what a day, what a day.

My best friend in high school was hit by a truck ten years ago from Thursday. I was with him when he was hurt, in the hospital and at his funeral. Brandon was a great guy, and I've thought about him almost every day since then.

I can't believe it's been ten years.

It seems like only yesterday that the Daily Advocate, Lafayette's paper and better known as the Daily Aggravator, published a story about a bunch of drunk kids crossing the road, not looking both ways and one kid getting killed. But of course we weren't drinking, and in fact we were going home for 11 to meet our curfews. Screw you, Daily Advocate.

So I went to church Thursday to offer some prayers for Brandon. I don't think I've ever been to church before on a weekday, unless it was for catechism class or something. I actually really liked it. Usually I hate going to church - I can do without the singing, aromas, water being thrown around and people just showing up to either feel like good Christians or to be social.

(It was at this point that I accidentally hit my Enter key and posted this blog. Go to "A Day to Remember, Part 2.")

Wednesday, May 23, 2007

Summertime and the Living's Easy

A lot of things have been going on this week for us Tanorys.

First, Betty finished her last day of school, so now she has officially started her summer of baking delicious cakes for her loving husband. Hurray for summer! I feel confident that, after spending a week alone with me, she'll want to go back to school. (At least that's what happened last year.)

Second, my in-laws, the Mathii, went to see Regis and Kelly in N'awlins. John Stamos, aka Uncle Jesse, was the guest. I like to picture my in-laws, Reege, Kelly and Uncle Jesse going downtown after the show and getting "potted" (that means drunk, for you chilluns out there), hitting up Pat O's and maybe flashing for beads on Bourbon, then having Uncle Jesse tell them a stirring moral that rounds out this week's episode of Full House.

Speaking of Full House, is it just me, or could Full House have only taken place in San Francisco? Where else would three single, grown men be allowed to raise three girls in the late 80's?

Third, on Thursday I'm going to a concert to see Tool. I know what most of you are thinking - how can someone who has absolutely no practical knowledge of tools like a band named Tool? I'm a living paradox.

Finally, on Friday some of our friends are coming to stay with us for a while. Matt and Nicole will now be featured regularly on the blog, whether they like it or not. I hope you enjoy reading about me pouncing them from the shadows as much as I enjoy doing it!

I'm off to eat cake! Hurray for summer!

Monday, May 21, 2007

Viva!

Today will go down in history as the day the Veggielution began in earnest!

Exhibit A: Random stranger seen wearing Tanory Tantrum clothing!

I swear I'm not related to this person other than by blood.

(Editor's note: I swear I'm not related to this person other than by blood.)

In my personal experience, clothing lines never take off until beautiful girls start wearing your logo. So it's official - my clothing line rocks! Look out, Thomas Hilfiger! I'm coming for you! And your little dog, too!

Exhibit B: San Jose starts Veggielution Club based on Tanory's Shirt

Some students at San Jose State University decided to start their own Veggielution club. I will be sending all of SJSU's Veggielution club a free t-shirt, after they send me $15.

Exhibit 3: Veggielution shirt named Top 10 Shirts of All-Time on Zazzle (if you exclude all days other than May 19)

That's right, the Veggielution made it to the top 10 most viewed items on Zazzle on May 19th. It was apparently ignored most other days, but May 19th is like the Veggielution's D-Day!

Viva!

Sunday, May 20, 2007

Spider-Man 3

Saturday we went to see Spider-Man 3. I would write my own review, but based on the amount of moolah this film raked in, you've probably already seen it. That means you probably already know that Spider-Man 3 will be making its television debut on Lifetime, television for women, because it was totally homosexual.

Although I didn't like the movie, the theater didn't help me to enjoy it. During the last scene of the movie, the film unexpectedly cut off and the lights came on. Everyone groaned. We all thought to ourselves that we just got screwed. Everyone thought that, that is, except for my granddad, who blurted out, "Well that just sucks!" I couldn't help but to agree - it was true on so many levels.

This preemptive end to the movie must have been the work of the dreaded Sandman! Or a lazy, zit-faced bum in the project booth. I hoped against hope that a parasitic alien attacked the booth bum and ate him from the inside-out.

We waited for two or three minutes and then decided that the high and mighty lord in the projection booth wasn't going to notice his captive audience's weeping and gnashing of teeth, so we got up to leave. Halfway down the aisle, the movie came back on (with warbling sound) but the lights stayed on. We all made our way back to our seats except for one or two stragglers, who had to be coerced back to their seats. Needless to say, this was the best part of the movie.

Okay, so I shouldn't bash the movie so much - some parts were pretty cool. The special effects were great and were fun to watch, even if the plot was miserable. And I have to say, I'm really happy that Spider-Man 3 came out, because now more people will be wearing Spider-Man outfits for Halloween and I'll be alone as Chaz Michael Michaels from Blades of Glory. Boom!

Friends of Live

A couple of posts ago I wrote that I was going to see my favorite band, Live, at Cypress Bayou Casino. The concert was actually at Shorty's, which is connected to Cypress Bayou Casino, and the concert area was awesome. In fact, I've seen Live four times, and this was by far the best concert. I can't wait until the next time I get to go to the casino for some flippin' awesome music! Hit me, bitch!

I thought playing at a casino meant playing in an open lounge area, as that's the only place I've ever seen bands perform at casinos (excluding Vegas). I didn't expect the great acoustics, awesome light show, and intimate setting that a casino can provide. It was like being on the floor at an arena rock concert.

I think I should mention that Cypress Bayou Casino's theme song goes like this: "Fun and Friendly, Loose and Easy, Cypress Bayou Casino!" That's right, Cypress Bayou is the cheap hooker casino of Southwest Louisiana.

The only drawback to going to see Live at Shorty's was that now I'm totally deaf in my right ear, unless you count the ringing sound that I've experienced for the past two hours. It was LOUD. In fact, when we first walked in, we saw two people with earplugs in their ears, and we were like, "Look at these two wusses." Now we know.

I guess the point is to not let the choice of venue prevent you from enjoying a good show. And wear earplugs. And also wear underwear, in case the band starts out with a brown note.

My next concert is Tool on Thursday night. I just hope my hearing recovers in time so I can lose it again.

Friday, May 18, 2007

Mike the Tiger: Number V in his Name but Number 1 in Our Hearts

LSU's mascot, Mike V, has gone to that newly renovated habitat in the sky.

Mike presided over all kinds of LSU National and SEC Championships. Mike was there to support Shaquille O'Neal, Matt Mauck, JaMarcus Russell and Bobby Tanory. No other college or professional mascot has so much to be proud of.

Mike was also the pimp daddy to the LSU Tiger Girls.

Experts say that Mike's heart left him after that bastard Nick Saban signed with Alabama. That was a huge betrayal to Mike and he was really depressed about it. Damn you, Saban, now look what you've done, you selfish prick!

Live and Well

Saturday we're going to see my favorite band, Live, at Cypress Bayou Casino in Charenton, LA.

To put it differently: Live is now playing casinos.

I'm not judging - I'd play in casinos if I could, too. I'd sing a song and then play the one-armed bandit while my lead guitarist rocked out on a tasty groove. Plus before and/or after the concert I'm going to go double-or-nothing on some black jack and/or casino food.

But doing a gig in a casino is always dangerous. A couple of years ago I went to Vegas with my buddies Matt and Brian. While we were there we got tickets to see some old Saturday Night Live cast members perform. We saw Kevin Nealon, Victoria Jackson, Jon Lovitz, Norm McDonald, etc. But Norm McDonald has a terrible gambling addiction, and he had just dropped 8 grand on an NBA playoff game. He was the closing act, but was so distracted by the score of the playoff game that he was booed off the stage. It was awesome! But sad. But still funny!

I started to like Live in the summer between my frosh and sophomore years of high school. It's been a long time. I actually listened to their album Throwing Copper for years on end because I couldn't stand listening to the Rap and Hip Hop (aka Rip Rop) on the radio. (Now that I have Sirius satellite radio, I can listen to the radio and not have to listen to Rip Rop. It's amazing!)

Live was with me for my most impressionable years, and I will be with them throughout their casino days. It's a symbiosis.

Wednesday, May 16, 2007

Changing the Shape of Healthy Eating

Sometimes, just sometimes, I like to look at complex social issues, mix them all together, pour in some Margarita Mix and see what kind of peace I can bring upon the world. Today as I was scarfing down leftover pizza from Papa Murphy's, I pondered over three disturbing aspects of our society:

1. America's education system is failing. Students today can't do Math. Kids today can't even read. In fact, they pretty much suck at everything. But if there's one thing that American students suck at the most, it's geometry. Damn I hate geometry!

2. American kids are the fattest kids in the entire human history, and our children's life expectancies are less than that of the older generations.

3. Racism is still alive and well in the US.

Plot summary: The US has a lot of fat, racist kids that particularly suck at geometry.

The main thread that I see in all of these issues can be addressed by getting rid of the Food Pyramid. Sure, it doesn't sound like it's all that impressive of a solution, but consider this:

The Food Pyramid is detrimental to society for several reasons. First, when encountered with the Food Pyramid one can't help but to think of the pyramids in Egypt. But children, by being so annoyingly curious, are bound to find out that those pyramids were probably built with slave labor. By exposing our children to racist monuments at a young age we are only encouraging more racism. Gotta reach them when they're young, Honky!

Second, kids today don't understand the Food Pyramid because, as I previously stated, kids today suck at geometry. If we're going to keep labeling some sort of geometric shape with names of foods, at least we could use something cool like an arbelos. (An arbelos looks like a metroid, which is from a video game. Kids understand video games. You just have to know how to talk their talk.)

So remember, if you want your family to be happy, healthy and hearty patriots, the next time you plan a meal for your family, take out your Food Arbelos and cook up a healthy and delicious meal. Do you recycle? Use the old Food Pyramid as a cheese grater. Afterwards, play Metroid on Nintendo Wii for some bonus exercise.

Monday, May 14, 2007

Happy Blogoversary to Me!

It's hard to believe but I've been writing the blog for a year. Actually, it was a year on the 9th - I missed my own blog's birthday. Oh well, I just hope it saved me a piece of its cake.

I was going to go over my favorite blogs from the entire past year, but there's just too many of them. So instead, I'd like to present my favorite blogs from my first month of blogging. (I noticed I'm writing about the same topics: food, coffee, the middle stall in the bathroom, lack of exercise, my wife being angry with me, video games, identify theft and subway sandwich artists. Glad to see I haven't grown at all in this past year.)

My first real post: Subway to Rename Sandwich Artists

First coffee / bathroom post: The Fungus Among Us

Happy b-day to Aaron's daughter: Alien vs. Baby

2006's Mother Day post: Happy Mother's Day!

First pizza blog: Would You Like Fries With That?

First identity theft blog: A Tale of Project Management and Woe

First angry wife post: Last Day of School Blues

And finally, some sage words from my younger self: write what you know.

First deep thought: Wisdom of the Ages

Thanks for being part of my first year of blogging!

Sunday, May 13, 2007

Iron Man

I think men should help out around the house more often, especially if the wife works or takes care of kids, or both. Or if you're like me, and you are a big kid, then you really owe your wife some help.

I try to do my part: I do the ironing in my house.

Occasionally I'll vacuum, but vacuuming isn't much fun. Sure, it's fun to yell "Suck! Suck! Suck! Suck!" or try to suction your wife's skirt off her, but the actual work of vacuuming is just boring.

Ironing is at least a little exciting. If you start to zone out while ironing, you might inadvertently burn your clothes. And if you accidentally burn your wife's clothes, then she has to go shopping, and she'll probably take you with her to teach you a lesson. So you see, ironing can be dangerous. Anything that has an end result of shopping is something to stay away from.

But if you start daydreaming while vacuuming, all you get is a cleaner spot on the carpet. Then you have to vacuum the rest of the carpet to make everything look the same shade of dirty. What's the fun in that?

Dusting just makes my allergies act up. Cooking... well, let's just say that I'm not allowed in the kitchen while any appliance is in use.

Mowing the lawn isn't much fun. My wife always times the mopping of the kitchen to when I mow, so all I do is track dirt back into the house. When I was young and was filthy, my mom would make me take off my clothes outside before coming in. But in today's society, someone would probably sue me for stripping outside my back door, then I would also probably end up on some kind of sexual predator list.

Like my dad always said, it's cute when you're a kid but it's jail when you're older.

So I'm sticking with ironing, and I encourage all of you other guys out there to help around the house. Remember, the less amount of time your wife spends picking up after you equals more time getting jiggy in the bedroom. (Right, ladies?)

Saturday, May 12, 2007

Under-dressed to Kill

Have you ever been to a wedding where everyone is dressed nice - all of the men are in tuxes or suits, the women are in elegant, sparkly gowns, and even the kids look pretty sharp - and then some guy with blue jeans walks into the reception?

Yeah, I was that guy on Saturday. Except in my case it wasn't a wedding. It was an "Announcement Party."

I should have known that the announcement party would be dressy, because I had never heard of an announcement party before. Usually when you go to something new, you assume that your average clothes are not going to suffice. And like I said, I hadn't ever heard of an "announcement party" - right up until we got to the party.

I was told, by someone who will not be named (it was my wife), that we were going to a shower. I wore my khakis just to be on the safe side, but wore a button-down short sleeve shirt because it was friggin 90 degrees outside. But as we pulled up to the massive house with hundreds of cars parked outside, my wife broke the news that this wasn't an average party.

I knew I was in trouble when we were walking up to the house, because the only short sleeve shirts that we could see through the windows also had logos on them.

Every guy at this party was in a suit. Except me. And the hired help.

At first I was embarrassed. The only guy in short sleeves! Out of hundreds of people! But after my first couple of beers and three passes at the party food, I got over it.

In fact, the other guys were jealous of my short sleeves. Like I said before, it was 90 degrees outside. Everyone else was sweating their nuts off. Yet I was cool and crisp, thanks to my glaring fashion faux pas. I've never been one for fashion, anyway. Or showers. (No pun intended.)

Plus, it never hurts to stand by one's hot wife - boobies always help detract attention from under-dressed men. Everyone, including the women, would rather look at the under-dressed women than the under-dressed men. It's so easy being a man.

So the lesson today is to be dressed for success, and if for some reason you find yourself in a position where it is glaringly obvious that you do not belong, find a nice pair of hoo-hoos and hang out by them.

Friday, May 11, 2007

Democratic Pro-Choice War Propaganda

The Democratic party is once again reaffirming it's belief in the right to have an abortion by demanding that President Bush abort the war in Iraq. If successful, it will be the first known forced abortion of a full grown Presidential love child by Congress in recent memory.

Democratic majority leader Steny Hoyer used the discussion about the war in Iraq to bring up contraceptives, saying it was time to "put a lid on it" and "wrap it up." He also spoke about alternatives to contraceptives by saying the U.S. should "just pull out." Hoyer later told BBC reporters that, although his caucus was long and hard, he was sure it would stand firm on its pledges.

When asked about Hoyer's comments, Hillary Clinton responded, "Hoyer is a total tool. I mean, come on, his name is Steny. Even a lesbian like me knows that any man named Steny is just asking for it." Clinton followed up with comments about Senate Majority Whip, James E. Clyburn, saying, "he is a whip, no doubt, a total PW."

Wednesday, May 09, 2007

Mother's Day

Mother's Day is this weekend, but instead of waiting until the last minute to do something for her (ahem, siblings), I'm dedicating this post to her. Happy Pre-Mother's Day, Momadee!

First, Mom, here's a picture for you. I expect to see this on the fridge when I visit you this weekend.

Click for Mother's Day Picture

Second, here's a card that I made just for you. This is at least mantle-worthy if not fridge-worthy.

Click for Mother's Day Card

Mom, for your mother's day gift I'm going to work on getting you a grandbaby. It will either be a really cute, happy and smart child (just like me!) or will be adopted from Africa.

I don't want to leave my wonderful mother-in-law out. She really is like a second mother to me - she loves me more than my other siblings, too! Mom-in-law, here's a card I made just for you:

Click for Mother's Day Card

Lastly, Mom, thanks for taking one for the team by getting it on with Dad. None of this would have been possible without you and those several Margaritas. I hope I've made you proud. I love you!

Carrie Underwood Arrested

Former American Idol winner Carrie Underwood was arrested on Tuesday on the basis of her own incriminating testimony. Apparently there was a domestic dispute where Underwood became so enraged that she slashed the tires of her boyfriend's souped up 4 wheel drive vehicle, broke both headlights with a baseball bat, keyed the side of the car and destroyed the interior leather seats.

Underwood denies the allegations.

"It's just a song," she said as she was led to the same prison where Paris Hilton has apparently given everyone STDs.

Carrie Underwood's alleged mugshot


Underwood's publicist did not immediately return a phone call seeking comment. Underwood's publicist also did not immediately return emails calling Carrie Underwood "Hairy Underwear."

American Idol judge Simon Cowell simply responded by saying, "If I'm being honest, it was really dumb to cheat on Carrie. She's a millionaire," to which Paula Abdul immediately chimed in, "It wasn't her best performance, but she looks fantastic."

Monday, May 07, 2007

Stewart / Colbert '08

I recently spotted a car with a "Stewart / Colbert '08" bumper sticker. I have to say - I'm all for it.

For starters, I can actually get viewpoints from both sides of a top story from Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert, unlike with Fox News, the New York Times or other news outlets.

Second, Colbert has his own ice cream. Name just one other presidential candidate with his/her own ice cream flavor. (Calling Hillary Clinton "Vanilla" doesn't count.)

Third, both Stewart and Colbert have great guests who have real edutainment value. Just check out the linked video from The Daily Show with Jon Stewart, where Jon Stewart interviews Ian Bremmer, head of the Eurasia Group and author of "The J Curve: A New Way to Understand Why Nations Rise and Fall." In one 5-minute segment, I learned more about America's foreign policy and how it affects other countries than I did throughout all of school. And to top it all off, Bremmer was entertaining.

Sure, Robin Williams made "Man of the Year," whose message was that people would vote for anyone if they were unhappy enough. But we all know that this was a political ploy to get people to not vote for Stewart and Colbert in '08. Face the facts: Robin Williams never made "America: The Book" or my favorite "America: The Audiobook."

So count me in as a Stewart / Colbert supporter. At least then the presidency will be intentionally funny.

Sunday, May 06, 2007

First Mates for Life

This weekend was action packed! First, we got to meet my sister's boyfriend, Matt. Matt is a riverboat pilot-apprentice. His actual title, or what is close to his actual title, is Chief First Mate. Yes, that is correct, he is my sister's chief first mate.

And since I like Matt, I'd like to give him a tip: don't look my sister directly in the eye. She really, really hates that. Seriously, this isn't a joke. It's like when you go to the zoo and look the monkeys directly in their eyes, and they freak out, start hollering and throw feces - she's like that. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Second, we went to a wedding for a good family friend in New Orleans. The ceremony took place outside, and as Jazz Fest was going on this weekend, drunk and/or stoned people were passing by us on the road. One guy walked by and yelled "Don't do it!" Another walked by and yelled "Freebird!"

At the last wedding for this particular family we met a shipbroker named Harland and his lady-friend Michele at the martini bar during the reception. This time we met up with them at the regular bar. It just affirms the fact that the bar is the best place to socialize at wedding receptions.

Lastly, all of our friends kept talking about a guy on YouTube named Poo Poo Broussard. Poo Poo Broussard is originally from my hometown of Lafayette. "Poo Poo" may seem like a funny name for a guy, but really, it's more common than you might think. I knew a minimum of five Poo Poos in high school.

So it was definitely a great weekend. It had all the elements of a magical time in New Orleans: jazz music, free food and drinks, old friends, and poo poo. Good times!

Thursday, May 03, 2007

Superblog!

There's been a lot of superhero movies lately. First there was Superman and Batman, then sometime in the 90's we had a few Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movies, and now we've got all kinds of superhero franchises: X-Men, Fantastic Four, Ghostrider, The Punisher, Daredevil, Hulk, Spider-Man, more TMNT, etc. Each movie comes with its own Happy Meal, Video Game and pajama licenses.

And Spider-Man 3, which opens this weekend, is only going to increase the amount of movies based on comic books. That means more superhero products coming soon!

But why wait for Hollywood to get the ball rolling? Here are some products / services that I would like to see utilize more superheroes to boost their sales.


Get your hair cut at Mr. Fantastic Sam's

Click for picture of Mr. Fantastic Sam's


Cyclops can help toast that Hot Pocket right up!

Click for picture of Cyclops burning my dang Hot Pocket!


Wal-Mart needs a new price slasher, so why not Wolverine?

Click for picture of Wolverine getting his slash on.


Superheroes aren't only good for selling cereal and toothbrushes. They can also lend their copyright to fight on the side of Justice, such as in this advertisement with the X-Man Beast helping to end animal testing.


Beast as Animal Rights Activist

Click for picture of Beast being lipsticked


I just hope all the promotional work that these superheroes are doing doesn't get in the way of saving the world from evil warlords, because I can't devote any of my own time to that until I beat Marvel: Ultimate Alliance on the Wii.

Tuesday, May 01, 2007

Immigration's Imagination

It's that time of the year again! Thousands of people marching in the street, American flags being waved to and fro, and people of all different races, sexes and nationalities joining together in harmony.

It's immigration rally time!

Once again, millions of immigrants across the nation gathered to protest the US government. Some protesters said illegal immigrants should be granted citizenship, others wanted raids on illegal immigrants to stop, and still others just turned out to see some hot Latina booty. Crowds at this year's rally were down from last year, which some people attribute to recent raids on illegal immigrants' homes and others attribute to new episodes of Mind of Mencia airing on Comedy Central.

But once again, someone has to tell the protesters: You're doing it wrong.

In today's world, when was the last time you saw a drastic political change due to Americans marching in the street? It's probably been more than 4 decades since a march has done anything worthwhile.

What illegal immigrants need is a lobbyist.

Basically, a lobbyist takes all of the arguments of the mob of people marching to and fro and tells them to a senator of your choice over a nice steak dinner. You know, get some face-to-face time. Plus, this lobbyist will probably know English, unlike most illegal immigrants. (On that topic, I think you guys would have a much better chance of being understood if you protested in English. Just a thought.)

Personally, I don't think these protests are getting to the root of this issue. As long as there are illegal immigrants there will be unfair wages, raids on homes, etc. Wouldn't it make more sense for the millions of illegal immigrants to hold mass protests in their own countries? For instance, if millions of people protested Mexico's corrupt government, maybe something would happen to create new and better jobs in Mexico. Then they wouldn't need to come to the US to work for pennies on the dollar.

I also fail to believe that millions of hardworking Mexicans are incapable of building up Mexico's economy on their own. America is known for exporting raw materials to another country then buying back the finished products at much higher rates - Mexicans should set up their own factories and get in on that action. Do I have to do everything for you?!

In conclusion, I'm all for granting citizenship to illegal immigrants, as long as they are hot Latina women or the family of one.