Friday, March 30, 2007

Miss America

The Miss America pageant is trying to find a new home after being dropped by Country Music Television. Man, you must really suck if CMT doesn't want you. Or is it that you must really suck to be on CMT? Maybe both.

The Miss America pageant isn't the same thing as the Miss USA pageant. I don't know what the difference is - I think Miss America is the one who always wants world peace, and Miss USA is the one who is a lesbian and showed her ta-tas in Vegas. Did that really happen or am I just daydreaming again?

Since Miss America is being dumped because she's not getting any ratings, here are a couple of suggestions for spicing the pageant up.

1. Make it a reality TV show. Americans will watch anything if it's labeled "reality." It could be like America's Next Top Model, but Donald Trump could fire one girl every night. Or he could marry one each night. Then I guess it would be like The Bachelor. His new wife would be in charge of fluffing his toupee before every show.

2. Instead of answering questions and displaying a talent, have them get straight to the swimsuit competition and wrestle in Jello or box. Boobies and violence are great for ratings.

3. Have only Randy Jackson, Paula Abdul and Simon Cowell judge each contestant based on marketability.

Honestly, I think the problem with these competitions is that each of these girls wants world peace. I for one am just not buying it. I want to hear Miss Wyoming get up and say, "I feel the world would be a better place if we would nuke Iran."

And if that did happen, the Miss America pageant would definitely be back on CMT, indefinitely.

Wednesday, March 28, 2007

One Big Happy Family

My friends and coworkers at work are really starting to feel like family. In fact, just the other day, one of my coworkers asked my boss if he could borrow $50 in petty cash and the keys to the company car.

"Ask your supervisor," my boss replied.

My coworker gave him a sheepish look. "She told me to ask you," he said, his head down and shoulders hunched. "It's just that my eyes hurt from staring at the computer screen and I thought it would be fun to surprise my wife at work with lunch."

"Okay, here are the keys, but be back for our conference call at 3:30." With that, my boss threw him the keys.

The halogen light glinted off the keys as the flew through the air. My other coworker noticed them, then turned red in the face. He stood up in his cubicle and clenched his fist.

"But that's not fair!" my other coworker yelled. "I asked to borrow the company car earlier and you told me no!"

"That's because you didn't finish your work. You know the rules - work first, company car later," my boss replied.

I sat at my desk, staring at my screen but noticing everything from the corner of my eyes. My boss and other coworker had it out, until finally everything was okay. I waited a couple of minutes, then slid my chair back, stood up, and slowly walked over to my boss's desk.

"Hey boss," I said, "I was wondering if I might step out a couple of minutes early and go get some coffee. There's coffee brewing in the kitchen but my veins need caffeine right now."

"No!" he yelled. "Nobody's going anywhere! Everyone get back to work!"

"Okay," I said, "no worries. Thanks anyway." With that, I went back to my desk.

My boss was still standing at his cubicle. He watched me walk back to my desk and sit down to start working. After a couple of seconds of silence he shrugged and said, "Well, you're a good kid, I guess it can't hurt to go get some coffee. Here's the company card - get yourself a grande'."

"Thanks!" I called out with joy.

On my way out I heard my other coworker push his chair back and stand up, yelling, "That's not fair!"

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

Dieting Made Easy

Dieting is not something you do once in a while - it's a lifestyle. I noticed that I don't routinely eat all the stuff that I should, but I want to change. I'm now trying to find more fruits and veggies to eat in my everyday life.

This used to be a challenge. "Health food?" I would ask. "Barf!" I would barf.

But now, buying and eating delicious yet healthy food has never been easier. The entire food industry is trying to capitalize on making foods healthier, since we Americans are the fattest fatties in all of history.

Take Abita Strawberry Harvest Lager, Abita Beer's strawberry flavored beer. Each can of this tasty and delicious beer is worth 1 fruit on the Food Pyramid. So fill up on a six-pack each night to stay healthy! You want to eat your fruits, don't you?

Pizza is also on its way to being a health food. Well, that one was obvious, wasn't it? I mean, pizza has all four food groups - you've got the cheese (dairy), crust (grains), tomato sauce (fruits), and toppings (meats, veggies, possibly more dairy). Plus, if you're a guy, it puts hair on your chest.

Fruit Roll-ups don't contain a lot of fruit, mostly just fruit flavors. But if you eat enough of them I'm sure it'll count for 1 fruit.

So you see, there are plenty of fun and healthy foods to choose from, so there's no excuse to not eat right. As for me, I think I'm going to go and have an Abita Strawberry Harvest Lager (or two!) and an entire large pizza. You can't be too careful when it comes to your health.

Monday, March 26, 2007

Comic Cons

Comic books are called childish by some people, but I call them ahead of their time.

Consider Spider-Man - a man is bitten by a radioactive spider and his DNA mutates until he has characteristics of both human and spider. It's like a genetics class for kids. Plus it warns children to stay away from radioactive material, unless you want all of the responsibility of being an awesome super-hero. Maybe Iran should read Spiderman.

Need another example? The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles also teach kids about the man-made environmental dangers that animals face. The storyline goes something like this: four turtles fall down a sewer drain, then radioactive material falls on them, then they mutate and become humanoid turtle-creatures with super-ninja powers, teeth, opposable thumbs and a hankering for pizza.

It could so totally happen.

But the one thing that comic books lack is a sense of reality.

Let's go back to the Ninja Turtles. I know from my own experience that turtles really, really stink. Take my turtle-son, Vern. That dude smells like a Mississippi rest stop. So the thought of a life-sized turtle sneaking up somebody in order to pounce them is unthinkable - you would smell it from a mile away.

But then again, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles storyline does take place in New York. I love you, New York, but you need to shower more often.

So it's still plausible.

In conclusion, comics are awesome and anything who doesn't think so is in line with the Green Goblin.

AmeriCone Dream

I'm a big fan of Comedy Central's "Colbert Report," so it was only natural that I would be drawn to Ben & Jerry's new flavor of ice cream, "Stephen Colbert's AmeriCone Dream." No, it doesn't have chunks of Stephen Colbert in it - instead, it contains vanilla ice cream, fudge-covered waffle cone pieces, a caramel swirl, and all the tasty patriotism you can stomach.

Stephen Colbert recently ended his feud with Willie Nelson, who has his own Ben & Jerry's ice cream flavor, "Willie Nelson's Country Peach Cobbler." Their feud was sparked when Colbert asked, "What is [Willie Nelson's Country Peach Cobbler] made out of? Shredded tax forms and hash?" and ended when both men had a taste test of the other's ice cream. It wasn't as homosexual as it sounds.

In a related topic, isn't it weird that Willie is spelled with an "ie" and not a "y"?


All of the proceeds of Stephen Colbert's AmeriCone Dream go to charity. So you might as well pick up a pint and help save the world while throwing a party for your taste buds. My mouth is still tingling from all of the caramel. And maybe because I just ate a bunch of Novocaine by mistake.

If you don't know who Stephen Colbert is or you're too cheap to get cable, you can watch last night's Colbert Report online by clicking here.

Sunday, March 25, 2007

Family Day

I'm usually not very happy about going into work on a Saturday, but this past Saturday was different - it was Family Day.

Family Day was a lot of fun! There were burgers and hot dogs, inflatable moonwalks, a live band, and scary clowns frightening all of the children. Honestly, I don't know if the kids were scared of the clown, but I know I was. Clowns really, really freak me out. I would hereby like to apologize to the clown that I attacked with a Family Day Frisbee. That wasn't right.

But the best part of Family Day was that my family was there. That's right, my entire family showed up! Except for those members who don't really love me - you know who you are, and you are now dead to me. DEAD TO ME!

I got to show my parents around the building, which actually has a pretty neat history to it. Our building used to be a Schweggman's Supermarket, which was like a Super Wal-Mart but a couple of decades earlier. After Schweggman's closed, the building sat in disuse for hundreds of thousands of years until my company took it over and gave new life to this once-again dignified building. I even showed my family where all the magic happens: the restrooms.

One of the fun things to do at work is to figure out where everything used to be in Schweggman's. To nobody's surprise, my cubicle is where the frozen pizza section used to be.

So thanks again, Fam, for making this the best Family Day I've ever had in my three months at this job! The pressure is on to make next year's even better!

Friday, March 23, 2007

Turtle Power!

We are the proud parents of a baby turtle. His name is Vern.

Vern came to us via my wife's class, whose mascot is a turtle. One of the students brought the turtle after catching it in their pool. From what the student tells us, Vern is capable of doing a mean backstroke.

The student named the turtle Vern after a character from Over the Hedge. I wanted to call him Testicles, but pronounce it like a Greek name - Test-ee-cleese. But somehow "Vern" won out. I call Shenanigans!

Vern is a red-eared slider turtle, which means he has red stripes down his neck. The red stripes make Vern look formal, but also lets people know that likes to party. They also are Vern's racing stripes.

Vern comes to us just as the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle movie hits theaters. Coincidence?

Turtles are not allowed to be sold as pets in Louisiana. The reason for this is because turtles are very disgusting creatures. For instance, most of their diet consists of vegetables. I don't know if I can live with a veggie-lover. Turtles also harbor bacteria such as Salmonella, which is also found in Peter Pan peanut butter. Maybe the Peter Pan factory hired a turtle for quality control.

And since you can't buy turtles, you have to lure them into your backyard by putting a floaty out in your pool, then wait for a turtle to climb onto it and start basking. Then you snatch'm!

So here's to my new friend, Vern. May you live a long and fruitful life, unless you infest us with Salmonella, in which case I hope you can survive a trip down the toilet.

Thursday, March 22, 2007

Bishop Allen

Wednesday night we went to the Spanish Moon to see my favorite Indie band, Bishop Allen.

There were three bands scheduled to play - Bishop Allen, Say Hi To Your Mom, and +/-. We weren't sure when Bishop Allen would be playing but thought they would be one of the first two bands to play, since the gig was booked as "Say Hi to Your Mom with Bishop Allen and +/-."

It just so happened that Bishop Allen was the headliner. I was excited, since the headliner plays longer than the other bands. But Betty had a different opinion.

The tickets were for 9 pm, which we knew would be really late for Betty even if Bishop Allen played first or second. The show actually didn't start until 10, which kind of makes sense now that we realize the bar didn't open until 9. But we showed up at 8:30 since we thought it started at 9 and weren't sure when they would be playing. The cool thing was that we got to chat with some of the members of the bands and watch a couple of sound check songs. We're such nerds.

But we didn't wait around for the start of the show - I brought Betty back home so she could get a good night's sleep. Hey, she has to deal with 5 and 6 year olds all day. I just have to sit at a computer and look suave.

I ended up going back to the Spanish Moon, and happened to catch half of +/-'s set. I then rocked out to Say Hi to Your Mom. Finally, Bishop Allen brought the house down. Well, "brought the house down" in the sense that the 40 people there really had a blast.

I left the Spanish Moon after more than halfway through Bishop Allen's set. I would have liked to have stayed longer but I'm an old man now - I have responsibilities, like blogging. Plus I have a meeting with my division director on Thursday so didn't want to be too tired.

So I guess we learned our lesson: next concert we'll show up fashionably late.

Tuesday, March 20, 2007

Who Gives a BLEEP?

Some of you may know of my other blog - It's a failed side project and also a failed attempt to get to buy me out. I would sell the domain name for pizza - any takers over there, eHow?

I had a lot of fun doing eHowNot, especially when I got to make fun of my brother for being a flagrant metrosexual. But I just never followed through. Oh well.

Anyway, I began to think of another side project called "Who Gives a BLEEP?" It would essentially talk about why people are so obsessed with ridiculous and mind-numbing topics like Anna Nicole Smith.

Ultimately, I decided against starting anything new, first because I don't have time, and second because my idea basically sucks. Plus, people are obviously interested in topics like Anna Nicole Smith, since the friggin news won't shut up about her.

I thought I'd give you a little idea of where I was going with this idea and why I stopped. You be the judge on whether or not it really, really sucks or just really sucks. Just don't cry or get busted for pot while reading. (That was a very bad Anna Nicole Smith joke.)

Anna Nicole Smith's friends and family "love her soooo much" that:

1) She wasn't buried until after a month after she died due to family squabbles,

2) Her ex-boyfriend claimed her house immediately after she died, and

3) Five people plus a donkey are claiming to be the father of her child.

It's actually really sad to see that, after a life full of living for every day and eating ginormous amounts of diet pills, the people who she surrounded herself with are all selfish a-holes. Yet she is still in the news. Why the hell do people give a bleep about this?

That's really all I would write. I would probably do some heavy research into her Playboy Playmate days, just for educational purposes. I would also post pictures of what her baby will look like in 30 years, depending on who the actual father of her child is, so I'd probably have to spend a full month on combining photos of her baby with people who claim to be the father.

I figure that I don't need another side project. Having something else to do will just detract from my Wii.

But seriously, if you want, pepperoni is my favorite pizza. All it takes is one delivery.

Monday, March 19, 2007

The Holiday

There are pros and cons to having NetFlix. The main pro is that you get to rent as many movies as you want and they mail them to you, all for one low monthly fee. (You can pay me later for that great promo, NetFlix).

But there are other great benefits as well: you don't have to listen to two a-holes talking and eating Sno-Caps behind you for two hours, no kids are kicking your chair (unless they're your own kids), and you can set the movie to show subtitles in Spanish whenever you get bored.

The con is, of course, that you can't tell anyone about a movie without them saying, "Did you just see that movie? That came out 6 months ago!"

Which leads into my blog topic: The Holiday.

I rented The Holiday from NetFlix because my previous picks - Farce of the Penguins, Logan's Run, and Requiem for a Dream - were not up to the quality that my wife is used to. We needed a "chick flick" to even the equation.

But oh, how the tables have turned!

The Holiday isn't even a chick flick. If you did happen to take a ladyfriend to see The Holiday, chances are that you are no longer with her. Instead of being "The Holiday" it should have been named "Hella Gay." I mean that in the meanest way possible.

I only agreed to watch it because Jack Black is in it, and I heard he had a great scene in it. Well, we saw that scene - all 20 seconds of it - and it was great. But then the movie went back to it's original storyline, which consisted of sucking the life out of its viewers.

My entire family liked The Holiday, which means that they were all conspiring against me, as there is no way that they actually liked it. My own family! Traitors!

I need a holiday from The Holiday. Luckily for me, Blood Diamond is on its way to my house. Thanks, NetFlix!

Sunday, March 18, 2007


My brother will be a father later this year, and that's got me thinking about all of the things that I have to look forward to when I am a father. There's the baby's first steps. Then there's the face the baby makes as he or she is going to the bathroom. If I have a daughter, I'll have to practice my "If My Daughter Isn't Home by 11 I Will Kill You" speech to give to her date. There are so many good times ahead!

But there is one thing that I really, really dread about having children:

Having to watch children's television.

Last week we babysat for one of our friends. The only thing that would stop the baby from crying was to play or sing a song. I tried to sing to him, and that got his attention for a while. Then he made a face that looked like he was going to the bathroom in his diaper, but really said how he felt about my singing.

The baby wouldn't stop crying, so out of desperation we turned to the TV for aid and succor.

Let me just say that I don't want my children in front of the TV all of the time. I think most parents start out saying that, but at some time during an incredibly long and powerful tantrum, the child finally gets its way. This will probably be the case with mine as well. But hey, this baby wasn't my kid, so I'll put him in front of a TV if I damn well want to.

Although I have a technical background, I couldn't figure out their DVD setup. But luckily for the baby, they had TiVo. They had 6 episodes of "The Doodlebops" recorded, so that's what we watched.

Most of you are probably lucky enough not to know who the Doodlebops are. I was once like you, so full of bliss and innocence. But those days seem like so long ago.

I hated the Doodlebops so much that I nicknamed them the "Doodoo Bops." Basically, the Doodlebops are a Canadian version of the Wiggles, only gayer.

The Doodoo Bops are comprised of three humanoids: Moe Doodle, who hides in the beginning of every episode (and fittingly enough, his first hiding place was the closet); Rooney Doodle, who is quite possibly the scariest role model you could ever want for your child; and finally, DeeDee Doodle, who is either a sister to the other DooDoo Bops, a wife or girlfriend to one of the others - although I seriously doubt that. Most likely, she is being held prisoner by the other two creatures.

The good news is that by the time we have kids the Doodlebops will be old news. But I know that something else, possibly even more grotesque, is lurking in the shadows.

Brother, good luck with your firstborn. I'll TiVo some Sesame Street for you.

Shamrockin' in BR

The St. Patrick's Day parade in Baton Rouge was pretty awesome this year - so awesome that I hereby suggest that we rename Baton Rouge to "O'Baton McShamrock."

Our parade-watching base of operations was at a friend's house. The guy who lives across the street was a major buttface and would take every opportunity to try to disrupt our party. He even complainted about our music being too loud - in the middle of the day. He was having a party of his own and really just wanted our party to disperse so his friends could take our parking spaces.

But nobody bosses the Tantrum around. Nobody!

We counterattacked by spraying some cans of dog repellent all over our friend's yard. Dog repellent keeps dogs from taking a dump where you've sprayed. We then let our friend's dogs loose, and they immediately set out to do their business, only to be forced to go in the neighbor's yard. A couple of drunks from our party followed suit. Everyone else who walked their dog across the street were also forced to stop and wait while their dogs made St. Patty's Day dookie in the neighbor's yard.

I also dropped a log of my own, but it was an artificial log used to start a fire.

Once we were successful in making the neighbor's party "crappy," we walked up and down the parade route, chatting with friends and sporadically breaking out into an Irish jig.

I didn't dress up for the parade (other than wearing green), so I had to test out just how much I stand out in the crowd when not trying to be an obnoxious a-hole. I was sucking pretty bad when I found some high ground by a ditch where nobody was standing and was a ways from the parade route. Once I was there, people tried to see how far they could throw, and I raked in some great beads. Fortunately for the surrounding parade-goers, I didn't once have to flash my shamrock thong.

After the parade we headed off to The Happy Note, conveniently next door to PeeWee's Pizza. We must have stayed for a couple of hours, but this is about the point where my memory becomes fuzzy.

The next thing I remember, I'm home watching Snow Patrol on Saturday Night Live, in nothing but my shamrock thong. Needless to say, Saint Patty's Day was incredibly awesome.

Friday, March 16, 2007

Happy Saint Pat's!

Top o' the morning to you!

Saint Patrick is by far my favorite Saint. First off, he's Irish Catholic which means he likes to party. Second, he's from Ireland, so he's the patron saint of U2 and Snow Patrol. Third, he was the first missionary in Ireland, plus the first missionary anywhere to wear a skirt, er, kilt. Did I mention he likes to party?

Here are some other great reasons to love Saint Patty:

1. He rid Ireland of all of the snakes, even the nonvenomous ones;

2. He lives by Scotland so gets to play golf a lot (maybe he'll bring you along one day!);

3. He owns a pot of gold and makes rainbows with them to destroy demons and/or pick up the ladies;

4. He's on the cover of Lucky Charms cereal.

5. He has his own parade.

I can't really decide on which is my favorite reason to love Saint Patty, but I do know that I love the St. Patty's Day Parade. Coincidentally, that's where we'll be tomorrow. So if you're in the area and you happen to see a short chubby guy in a green cow suit flashing for green beer, come and say hi!

Thursday, March 15, 2007

Barack Attack

Barack Obama, junior Senator from Illinois and presidential candidate, has been getting a lot of attention lately. Personally, I like the guy. But I won't vote for him.

It's not about race. All you crackers know that I'm not racist.

It's about books.

You see, in the past 6 months Barack Obama has come out with a lot of books, all supposedly written by him. First there was The Audacity of Hope: Thoughts on Reclaiming the American Dream. Next there was Dreams from My Father: A Story of Race and Inheritance. Finally, later this month another book is coming out, entitled Barack Obama in His Own Words.

He even had time to write the forwards for Real Men Cook: More Than 100 Easy Recipes Celebrating Tradition and Family and It Takes a Nation: How Strangers Became Family in the Wake of Hurricane Katrina.

My main problem is that I just don't trust someone who spends that much time writing books instead of doing whatever Senators do, like backstabbing each other for votes, having gay sex with underage pages, accepting bribes and/or generally being corrupt.

Now in Obama's defense, he probably didn't actually write any of that. Most likely, some ghostwriter did all of that for him. If that's the case then he's more credible in my eyes, because then he can be like Hillary Clinton and either have time to make lesbian love with other powerful women or have cronies kill anyone who opposes him.

I like John McCain, because he has a bus that says "Straight Talk Express" on it. Not only that, but I know that he didn't actually write it - he had better things to do, like do shots of Vodka with Hillary. Even better, he's used the same bus for like a billion years now. I'm all for recycling. Plus I bet that bus is a shaggin' wagon.

In conclusion, I base my choice for presidential candidate off of the candidate's style of transportation, not on books, because I'm a true red-blooded American!

Anyone know what Giuliani is riding?

Wednesday, March 14, 2007


I'm reading "Moscow 1812: Napoleon's Fatal March" by Adam Zamoyski and I have to say, I really feel like a big dummy.

You see, back in 1812 people didn't wage war by sending unmanned drone bomber jets to do their dirty work. And yes, I know it's hard to believe, but they didn't dump chemicals and extremely infectious viruses into their enemy's water supply or send them Ricin via postal service. They did crap all over the road, but only out of necessity.

Back in those days, they actually formed a big group of people, handed out some guns, ammunition and pantaloons, then marched hundreds of miles in the anticipation of killing those {enter racial stereotype of your own choosing here}. And in order to march those hundreds of miles - sometimes just in order to find who they were supposed to be killing - they had to know a lot of random stuff.

This is where I feel dumb.

See, it's like this: if you were living in France back in 1812 and you wanted to kill some Russian dude, you not only had to walk the entire way there - which is about 1,500 miles - but you also had to know the best and/or fastest way to get there. You'd have to know what kind of weather each area would be having, since you'd be gone for a long time and probably wouldn't have a lot of shelter along the way. You'd have to know what kinds of food or harvest would be available during your trip, since you'd have to rely on the land for sustenance. You'd also have to know where all of your enemies are along the way, and let's be honest, if you were French at any time during all of human history then somebody somewhere wanted to kill you.

And yet, on Sunday we were unable to make the trip from Lafayette to Baton Rouge because a truck carrying cucumbers crashed on the Atchafalaya Basin on I-10. A tenth of mile worth of impenetrable veggies lay between me and my destination. I could have taken another route, but it was getting dark and I'm not very familiar with the other routes.

Friggin veggies! You are the bane of my existence!

So you see, if I were alive back in 1812 and wanted to kill someone, I would have been screwed. I can't even overcome simple obstacles to go the 50 miles from Lafayette to Baton Rouge. In 1812, a person would have simply scooped up as many cucumbers off of I-10 as they could, and either eaten them along the way or used them to sodomize their enemies. But in today's world, I'll just have to rely on long range missiles and the occasional nuke to conquer other nations.

Monday, March 12, 2007

Plumber's Crack

People like to say that video games rot your brain. However, I would like to propose a different idea: video games are helping to keep kids off drugs.

First, hand-eye coordination and quickness of thought are necessary when playing games, and people on drugs just don't have either. Ever see a guy high on drugs beat Metroid Prime 2: Echoes? Didn't think so.

Second, some states are adopting video games like Dance Dance Revolution in school to help kids lose weight. Of course, since one of those states is West Virginia, the inbreeding is probably more of a problem than obesity. But point in fact, you can't win at DDR if you're a meth head.

Third, people have the wrong idea about video games thanks to the misinformation in the media. Seriously, do you really believe the media after this Iraq fiasco? Even the most famous video game characters are misrepresented. For instance, did you know that Mario and Luigi, stars of Nintendo's "Mario Brothers" franchise, are usually referred to as "plumbers?" Plumbers! Ha!

Mario and Luigi are NARCs. That's right, they are undercover narcotic agents.

"Mario" and "Luigi" aren't even their real names - those are just code names. Think about it - they're the Mario Brothers. That would make Mario's full name "Mario Mario." Only a crackhead would be dumb enough to fall for that one.

Here's the deal: Mario and Luigi did an undercover deal as plumbers. They were selling "plumber's crack." It was really just regular crack cocaine that they hid up their butts. People on drugs will do some really dumb stuff.

Just say no, kids!

Mario and Luigi did this to help get into the underground drug business as spies in order to rid the world of magic mushrooms. By jumping on and squashing them, they have reduced the mushrooms' potency. Mario and Luigi are also constantly waging war against an underground drug lord named Bowser, aka King Koopa, aka Silky Johnson. It should be noted that Bowser never wears pants.

Basically, Super Mario Bros. was like "The Departed," but with mushrooms, turtles and a princess named Peach instead of Jack Nicholson and Leo.

In conclusion, video games only rot your brain if you're playing trash like XBOX 360.

Requiem for a Telemarketing Call

Is it illegal to strangle a telemarketer with his or her own phone cord?

I mean, let's look at the facts: it's legal to put your own dog to sleep. You can kill baby cows, which by the way are delicious. Finally, I've personally squashed hundreds of bugs after my wife stuns them with her supersonic high-pitched scream, and no special agents have come looking for me yet.

So I guess the question is, do telemarketers count as being human?

If so, I still have hope. My defense is that I'm only protecting my family. These people call every night during dinner, and there's really nothing you can do. Other than kill them, that is. They add stress to my day. They are harassing me, I've asked them to stop, and yet they continue. To me that is the definition of a stalker, and I'm not going to allow anyone to stalk my family (unless it is a woman and she is totally hot).

If it's illegal to kill telemarketers then I need to know what kind of time I can expect to spend in jail. It may be worth it if I can just do community service. In fact, maybe the judge will say I've already done my community service by killing a telemarketer.

Of course, telemarketers are like any other pest - you can kill one, but hundreds of others will take its place. I bet PETA is on their side - evil organizations tend to stick together.

But not to worry, as I have invented a new device which will render most telemarketers asunder. This device emits a high-pitched squeal which is capable of bursting eardrums. Yes, that is correct, I taped my wife screaming when she saw a roach and now I am ready to unleash this weapon onto the battleground of telemarketer vs. blogger.

Fear me, telemarketer scum! You may be calling me to ask survey questions, but you've constantly ignored the most important survey answer: we don't like being called during dinner.

The game is afoot.

Saturday, March 10, 2007

Shower Time

My neighbors are throwing a shower for one of the girls down the street. This girl must really be filthy if everyone is so determined to get her to shower. I'm bringing shampoo + conditioner as a gift, in honor of her dirtiness.

It's also my mom's birthday. Happy birthday, Mom! We have some presents for you - we just have to steal them from the shower first.

I actually can't wait for this party to start. It's really going to be a blast! The people on my street are like family to me. Seriously, I call them all "Grandpa," even the women and children.

One of my neighbors is preggers. It's really weird seeing one of your friends pregnant. It makes you think of all the things that you can't say around kids - suck, crap, boner, etc. Nobody says "boner" anymore but you still can't say it around kids.

Anyway, I have to go get ready for the party now. I think I'll start off with a pre-shower shower. The sooner I shower, the sooner I can wrap up the shampoo + conditioner.

Thursday, March 08, 2007

The Tanory Tantrum Apologizes: Part 2

You may have noticed that there was a day or two lag between this post and my previous post. Well, that is because my wife grounded me from the computer.

You see, there are repercussions for what we say or do in everyday life. When I wrote that "women are a lot like werewolves," I knew it was bound to upset some people, especially when those people are women, and extra-especially when one of those women is my beautiful, non-wolfish wife.

So the Tanory Tantrum would like to apologize to all of you wonderful female readers, especially to those of you wonderful female readers with whom I am married, and to tell you that you are not like werewolves, especially when the moon is full.

Can I use the computer again now, Mrs. Tanory?

Tuesday, March 06, 2007

Werewolves in Women's Clothing

I think women are a lot like werewolves.

First, they both have lunar cycles, during which they both become raging lunatics, froth at the mouth and scream about blood. The metamorphosis from regular human to tortured soul is usually accompanied by extreme pain and, in some cases, random acts of violence towards livestock.

Second, as a woman becomes pregnant her senses are usually heightened. Her eyes, ears and nose pick up a wider range of light, sounds and smells than a man's. Her senses may not be as heightened as a dog's or werewolf's, but she could probably easily track and pounce her male prey, er, husband through a dense forest during the second trimester if she so chose.

Third, literary and oratorical history both show a pattern of women consistently being mistaken for werewolves. For instance, in Little Red Riding Hood, a talking, walking wolf with opposable thumbs (aka, a werewolf) dresses up as Little Red Riding Hood's grandmother, and the girl doesn't even notice. Well, she does inquire about the sharp teeth and all that, but she obviously didn't think it was a big deal otherwise she would have ran her butt out of there.

Another example: Romulus and Remus, alleged founders of Rome, were nursed by a she-wolf. The Latin word for she-wolf is Lupa, which also can mean "prostitute." It's comparable to calling an ugly woman a "dog." I'm not calling women prostitutes - I'm just saying, the wolf-to-woman connection has been around for a long time.

Finally, wolves and (I assume) werewolves hunt in packs; ladies go to the bathroom in packs. It's group instinct.

I cannot stress enough that I am in no way calling my wife, sister, mother, mother-in-law, cousins, aunts and/or female friends dogs, beasts, creatures or werewolves. All I'm saying is, the next time there is a full moon, I'll be locked in the guest bedroom surrounded by silverware.

The Godfather

I have been asked to be the Godfather to my cousin's dog, TJ. This is a great honor, and one which I accept with all humility and respect.

Now that I am a Godfather, I see life in a whole new light. I am wary of other dogs. I must protect those that depend on me. And while looking out for my God-dog's best interests, I have already picked out a suitor for her. His name is Buster.

Don't worry, I know Buster's parents. They're good people.

I think TJ and Buster would make a perfect match because, well, let's just say that they both like to hump. That's a good dog!

Of course, the only problem is whether or not Buster is going to be able to provide all of the things that TJ needs on a daily basis. She is the baby, after all. But like a good Godparent, I'll see them through this time of need and want.

But it's not really my place to decide those kinds of things. All I know is, if TJ does in fact like Buster, I'll make him an offer he can't refuse.

Monday, March 05, 2007

The Emperor's New Threads

If you hate veggies (or if you love'm), check out my new shirt at Zazzle, entitled:

If you are dismayed that I chose a "t" instead of a "c" in Veggielution, Zazzle lets you edit the text, color of the shirt, picture - basically, lets you make your own shirt using my design. Some people call that plagiarizing, but I call it the first step towards destroying veggies once and for all.

Viva la Veggielution!

Note: Links go to possibly disturbing articles on the treatment of animals. Do not click them if you do not want to read about the linked text.

People occasionally ask me why I hate veggies so much. Here is my attempt at explaining why I hate veggies, and why you should as well.

I've thoroughly researched other controversial foods, like veal or dog, to determine why some groups are so vehemently against eating them. What I've learned is that some people are against eating veal because of the horrible mistreatment of these animals, such as raising them in extremely close quarters or feeding them synthetic hormones and antibiotics. Others worry that these hormones and antibiotics will be passed to humans in the veal meat. Others just don't like the taste of veal. I'm not here to argue one way or the other for delicious, succulent veal. I'm just saying, those are the arguments.

Similar arguments are made about doing experiments on animals. For instance, it's considered inhumane to selectively breed mice for the sole purpose of growing human ears on their backs, even though these types of experiments could one day lead to growing organs for humans.

PETA has been at the forefront of protesting these types of experiements. But PETA handed out bloody crowns to children at Burger King, so I wouldn't exactly call PETA the moral compass. But again, decide for yourself - I'm here to talk about veggies.

The basic tenet of these arguments is that it is inhumane to treat these animals this way. Ie, it's inhumane to eat your pet dog. It's inhumane to put your cat in a soup. It's inhumane to dress up your monkey in lip gloss and eye-liner.

But if it's inhumane to raise animals just for the sake of eating them... if it's wrong to use the most efficient methods to raise the fattest, most tender piece of meat... if it's wrong to selectively breed animals so we can understand how to manipulate them to get the most out of them with no regard for their own lives - then I think it's inhumane to eat veggies.

You see, many of the veggies that we eat today, such as Brocciflower, are not nature's creations; they are man-made by selective breeding. Veggies are planted out in the field with only water and sunlight as food. Sometimes people spray veggies with chemicals which can be harmful not only to people but to the environment or other animals. Farmers routinely take a scythe to fields of grains to chop down hundreds of strands at once - mass murder in my eyes.

Just because veggies are disturbingly ugly creatures doesn't mean that we should be free to do with them as we please. If you are against eating veal, dogs, cats or any neotenous animal, then I urge you to join the fight against eating veggies.

Maybe you are against global warming. In that case, you should know that the more plants you kill, the less plants there are to consume carbon dioxide, therefore the hotter the earth gets. Al Gore will come to your house and spank you if you eat veggies!

Finally, the best reason to avoid eating veggies is because you are what you eat. You don't want your skin to turn green and to worry about accidentally pollinating the neighbors in the Spring.

Actually, maybe the best reason is to not have Al Gore come to your house... Hmmm.... Viva la Veggielution!

Just Five More Miles!

One of our friends recently ran a marathon. It's really kind of hard to believe that someone could run 26 miles, much less want to run 26 miles, all at once.

Overachievers make me sick!

But seriously, how pathetic is this: Betty and I went walking the other day and I got shinsplints within the first tenth of a mile. I knew that exercising would only cause me grief, but you know how it goes - when the wife wants something you have to do it, even if it doesn't involve watching TV or playing Wii.

And today, on my long walk at work from my cubicle to the restroom, my legs started to ache. I could barely walk! Shinsplints! I panicked - what was I to do? On the one hand, I needed the restroom! On the other, I couldn't walk. I fell to the ground and tried to claw my way to the bathroom, but laying on my stomach only aggravated the issue.

I did the only sensible thing I could do: I asked the maintenance staff to carry me. They refused and made fun of me in Spanish, but I noticed as they were walking away that they were pulling a large cart behind them. The cart had a trash can, plastic gloves - that kind of thing. I grabbed onto the back of it and let it drag me the .0001 miles to the restroom. Victory! Thankfully, there are plenty of areas in the restroom to, uh, sit and rest.

I bet people who work with me get hazard pay.

So to you, my friends who run marathons or just exercise regularly, I salute you and your amazing shins. And if you see me walking on the street, don't wait up.

Saturday, March 03, 2007

Bee Day

After increasing her age, experience and dexterity by 1, Betty commenced her birthday celebrations in full force.

To begin the day we watched some telly on TiVo. While we were watching 30 Rock we got a phone call from none other than Alec Baldwin, one of the stars of 30 Rock. It was almost as if he called to personally thank us for watching!

Then I got paranoid that someone was watching us and we spent the next several hours holed up in the house with all of the lights off. It was scary, but it did give us a chance to play "7 Minutes in Heaven."

After emerging from the darkness, we tailgated outside LSU's Alex Box stadium before the baseball game. The stadium was named in 1943 for Alex Box, an LSU athlete and graduate who was killed in North Africa, March 1943, and was awarded the Distinguished Service Cross for single handedly eliminating six German machine guns and one howitzer. The Tigers lost the game.

For lunch we picnicked at the lovely and sandy Baton Rouge Beach, where we witnessed some geese viciously attack kids in kayaks and a couple of dogs hump in the beat of the birthday song. It was magical!

Dinner with her family at DiGiulio Brother's was excellent, as always. We both competed to see who could drink the most water without going to the bathroom, although, as noted in a previous Bathroom Reporte, the bathrooms at DiGiulio's are outstanding. It depends on how you define winning and losing in this type of competition as to who actually won.

Finally, since it was Betty's birthday she was able to make one binding decree upon our household, as is the Tanory tradition. For instance, when I was 15 I decreed that my brother had to introduce himself to all of my sister's friends as "Princess Berthalot of the Neenerneenerian Sect" before a school dance. In the same spirit, Betty decided to declare the entire month of March as her birthday month.

I guess that means that we'll be eating cake and Cookie bouquets for a while - so be it! Happy birthday, B!

Friday, March 02, 2007

Happy Birthday, Beebles!

Saturday is Betty's birthday! Hurray!

Now I just need to figure out what to get her. Hrm....

Well, we know she likes dumpy nerds with mad computer skillz, but she already has one of those. She wants a patio but I don't think I could have it ready by tomorrow. She's so hard to buy for!

If you get a chance, give her a call, send her an email, or resend that strip-o-gram from last year and wish Beebles a happy B-day!