Sunday, September 30, 2007

Whose Liner is it Anyway?

As you all know, I'm an idiot. And a year or so ago I swore to take free classes at Lowe's to learn how to do basic stuff that every man should know how to do, so I would be less of an idiot. But since then I've decided that it's much better to learn how to do something, such as painting, installing wood floors or fitting cabinet liners, by just doing it. And when I say "by just doing it," I mean to just do it at your friend's house first before trying it at your own home.

When your friend has a new house, such as in the case of my buddy Matt, there's a lot of work to be done. Boxes have to be moved, beds have to be put together, and cabinets have to be lined. This is the perfect opportunity for you to "learn how to do stuff." Usually I'm not much help for anything other than picking up heavy boxes and hobbling with them along a hallway. But Sunday I was determined to earn my Helper Badge at Matt's house.

When my wife and I bought our house, my wife's dad and aunt came over to help. And boy, were they some help! They lined every single cabinet, drawer, nook and cranny with cabinet liners. It looked like a lot of work, so I slunk over into another room and hid in a dark corner until all of the work was done.

So with my friend Matt's house, I decided that I needed to at least get the experience of lining cabinets. Who knows when I'll need to do it in the future? You never know when your house will be too small for your family, and a new house means new cabinets to line.

At this time I would like to thank my father-in-law and aunt for their endless hours of lining cabinets that one fateful night in 2004. Lining cabinets blows. On the other hand, I didn't have to put beds together, I avoided assembling the gas grill, and I got out of moving furniture around in various rooms. So in a way, lining cabinets rocks!

I can't wait until I need to do something else around my own house so I can walk over to Matt's house and try it out there first. I love having friends as neighbors!

Saturday, September 29, 2007

Shreve-Vegas, Baby!

What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. But what about what happens in Shreve-Vegas?

My buddy Matt is originally from Shreveport. We met in our fraternity at LSU, after I either hazed his ass off or welcomed him with open arms, depending on your legal view of LSU's hazing rules. Our wives were in the same sorority - in fact, I led an all-out pantie raid assault on their sorority house, and Matt was one of my soldiers on that fateful night. Ah, to be in college again....

After college, Matt and his wife, Nicole, moved to Fort Worth, TX, known by the locals (and everyone else) as Fort Worthless. But after a couple of years, they decided to move back to the Baton Rouge metropolitan area, and settled down in Prairiville - right down the street from the Tanory family.

So we, being good neighbors, helped our friends move into their new house. We unloaded a trailer full of furniture and boxes, and I tried like the dickens to not scrape the walls while bringing stuff into the house. This is a lot harder than it sounds - especially when you are as drunk as I was.

Afterwards, Matt and I drove up to Shreveport - aka, Shreve-Vegas! - to pick up some of his other stuff that was stowed away at his parents' house.

Shreveport is known as Shreve-Vegas because Downtown Shreveport has more casinos per capita than any other port city named after Captain Henry Miller Shreve. And although I wanted to go to every single one of them, we couldn't - it was 2 am and we needed to get up in 5 hours so we could get the trailer loaded in time to listen to the LSU vs. Tulane game on our way back down I-49. Plus I didn't have any money.

It was probably good that I didn't go to one of Shreveport's many fine gambling establishments, because I would have bet all of my belongings on college football. Although I did pick LSU to beat Tulane, Maryland to beat Rutgers, Georgie Tech to beat Clemson, and Notre Dame to be hunchbacked for at least one more week, I certainly didn't think OU, Texas and Florida would lose (at least until any of them played LSU). OU was particularly upsetting - I had to call my Granddad after OU lost and make sure he was taking his nitroglycerin.

So goodbye to Shreve-Vegas, and hello again to Prairiville! And to my new neighbors, Matt and Nicole, stay off my lawn unless you're mowing it! I know where you live....

Thursday, September 27, 2007

Weight Watched

A couple of months ago I started the Sonoma Diet in order to lose almost 25 pounds and get my fat ass down to 165. I am happy to announce that I have accomplished my goal. Victory!!!

Next goal: to gain it all back in 30 days.

What's the opposite of a diet? An indulgence? Then that is what I will do.

First I will order several boxes of pizza. Next, I will dump them in my bathtub. Then I will commence a pizza bath and lather. For shampoo I will use the garlic sauce that comes with the bread sticks. Rinse, repeat, then I'll eat my way out of the tub.

I really can't wait. My clothes don't fit anymore - I'm too thin for them - so instead of spending money on new clothes, I'll just eat cheaper and therefore unhealthier food, and save money on two fronts. It's the perfect crime.

Actually, I'm out to lose another 10 pounds. I was 155 when I was in high school but I had more muscle and less fat than I do now, so I'll probably still be a chub once I hit my new target weight. I'm also going to start exercising more. Then I'll start showering regularly, using deodorant and brushing my teeth with toothpaste instead of just wiping my teeth with my shirt. But one step at a time... one step at a time.

Cellphone Jesus

I am trying to not take the Lord's name in vain so much. I used to yell, "Jesus Christ!" often enough and loud enough that people thought I was an evangelical preacher.

But now I just get angry stares from my wife.

So I've been trying to be better. But sometimes I get so aggravated that I've just gotta yell. When this happens I usually think of a random friend or family member and then yell his or her name as loudly and angrily as I can.

But sometimes the JC just slips! It's the simple things that really get my goat. Like voicemail - man, voicemail used to be so simple! I now think the phone companies are trying to keep us on the phone longer and longer so they can drain all our cellphone minutes. There is no other reasonable explanation for why it takes two minutes to explain that the person you have called is not available and to leave a message after the beep.

So really, when I was yelling Jesus' name, I wasn't yelling it in vain - I was calling on Jesus to smite the phone companies. I think that's something we can all rejoice in.

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

The Battle of Thermopylae in Slow Motion

I just watched 300, the movie version of the Battle of Thermopylae of 480 BC, based off of Frank Miller's graphic novel (ie, comic book) of the same name.

I didn't really want to see this movie. From the previews it looked like a bunch of male models prancing around with spears and beards. And that was pretty much what it was - only in slow motion.

Slow motion makes everything better. If you're a slow reader or are just busy and are reading this Tantrum in slow motion, I bet it's better than you ever expected it to be. That's because everything is much more dramatic in slow motion - except watching paint dry. Or grass grow. Or bread bake. You get the point. Really awesome stuff looks even cooler in slow motion.

That wasn't all that 300 had going for it. I couldn't tell if it was done on purpose or if the microphones were just really far away from the actors, but everyone seemed to be screaming the whole time. And Leonidas, the king of Sparta, seemed to give the audience a play-by-play of what was about to happen. At one point he yells at the camera, "This is where we hold them! This is where we fight! This is where they die!" And that's what happens - they hold them, they fight, and the enemy dies. In slow motion, screaming.

The movie did a good job of giving a general picture of historical events. For example, there was a guy named Ephialtes of Trachis, who was a Greek but turned traitor and gave away some critical info to the Persian horde. But the movie made Ephialtes out to be a hunchback, and he looked like a cheap imitation of Gollum at times.

What other books and movies did 300 steal from other than Lord of the Rings? Off the top of my head I can list Braveheart, 300 by Frank Miller, and of course The Histories by Herodotus of Halicarnassus. I think I saw a little Steel Magnolias in there towards the end, too.

Anyway, 300 was better than I expected it to be, and I'm happy I watched it. The fight scenes, which make up 3/4 of the movie, were pretty cool, which is expected as they were all in slow motion.

And as a bonus, while researching the history of the people from this time period I learned that Leonidas was a middle child. Yes, that's correct, a famous king was not the first-born son. This flies in the face of current scientific research showing that first-born children make better leaders. Or maybe Leonidas just wanted attention. That also might explain why he walked around in slow motion and yelled all the time.

Monday, September 24, 2007

Home Depot Humdinger

In this day and age, I can't believe that there's even one person out there willing to sit on a strange toilet without covering it with toilet paper. As my mom would say, "Think of the germs!"

But there is one guy who would do such a thing, and his name is Bob Dougherty. Bob Dougherty's story is one of drama, laughter, and ultimately, being glued to a toilet in Home Depot.

Mr. Dougherty was shopping for garden gnomes at a Home Depot in Colorado when all of a sudden, while passing through the fertilizer section, he felt the urge to ferociously purge his bowels. Sweating, cursing, holding his bottom, and generally running with an awkward posture, Dougherty bulldozed several employees on the way to the restrooms, which of course were all the way in the back of the store.

Witnesses say that he shoved a young man aside from the entrance to the middle stall, had his pants down before the door slammed, and sat down with a loud but gratifying sigh.

Followed, unfortunately, by a scream of terror.

You see, Mr. Dougherty was in such a hurry to Number Two that he didn't follow the Tanory Tantrum Cardinal Rule of Toiletry: never sit on an un-papered seat.

In this particular case, there was glue on the toilet seat. Apparently it wasn't just ordinary glue or super glue. It might have been wood glue. But at this point in our story, it becomes butt glue. (Eeewww!)

Mr. Dougherty yelled for help, saying that he was stuck. But did we at the Tantrum expect for those miserable saps at Home Depot to actually help someone in their store? Of course not! Home Depot is known for their terrible customer service.

Note to self: Never be glued to a toilet seat in Home Depot.

Mr. Dougherty could not be immediately pulled off the toilet, so the toilet was unbolted and he was wheeled out of the store with Dougherty still sitting on the toilet seat and reading the Sunday comics.

The sad thing is that Dougherty was recovering from heart surgery and thought he was having a heart attack when he was unable to remove himself from the toilet seat. He then passed out and paramedics couldn't find his pulse. While he was passed out, paramedics pulled him off of the toilet seat, ripping the flesh from the back of his legs.

The lesson? Life is like a toilet seat in Home Depot - you never know what you're gonna get.

Sunday, September 23, 2007

Baton Rouge Traffic

I think I've discovered the reason why traffic in Baton Rouge is so bad and makes everyone want to turn into violent sociopaths:

We have too many friendly drivers.

Yes, friendly drivers are a nuisance. Sometimes when you're trying to be nice, you end up doing things that piss a lot of people off. Like the saying goes, the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.

One way that Baton Rouge drivers can be more unfriendly - and therefore better - drivers is to not let other people turn onto the street when traffic is at a standstill. Screw those people! Let them shoot the gap like everybody else. Is that one person so important in the grand scheme of things? No, he or she is just a peon. Just act like you don't see them - problem solved. And if one of these people does happen to squeeze in ahead of you, don't wave - that's 2 extra seconds of driving that you could be doing instead of waving. Remember, you have no friends on the road.

When someone is trying to turn left past several lanes of bumper-to-bumper traffic, this is a perfect time to use that beautiful middle finger that God gave you. Everyone else shouldn't have to have their day held up because one person didn't want to make a loop around the block to take a right turn into the parking lot. If the person takes offense, throw your coffee at them as a gesture of friendship.

Although people who speed need to have their tires blown out from under them, people who drive 20 miles under the speed limit are not doing us any favors, either. If you see someone trying to be a good driver by staying way under the speed limit, do the responsible thing and run them off the road. Don't worry, they won't get hurt - they're driving way too slow to do any serious damage when crashing.

Also, when you're at a 4-way stop and you're not sure who has the right-of-way, assume that you got there first and just go. Otherwise there's a lot of waving, miscommunication and heartache. If the other guy is paying attention then he'll stop, and if he's not then you can sue his ass after he hits you.

Lastly, I'd like to give a shout-out to the Worst Driver of the Week. This week's Worst Driver award goes out to the woman who hit my friend, Matt, while he was driving to work downtown. She turned left from the right lane just as he was passing her in the middle lane, and afterwards she backed up and drove off. He followed her to make sure she didn't flee and so he could get her insurance - leaving the scene of the accident. He blamed her, she then blamed him, and thus the cop that showed up had to play "He Said, She Said." This woman blatantly disregarded rules of the road, then left the scene of the accident, then blamed my friend, then got her house burned down. (That last part hasn't happened yet.) We hate liars at the Tantrum just as much as we hate friendly drivers. This is one time when we would applaud the cops tasing someone.

So remember, people, the next time you're on the road, just drive the speed limit, follow all posted road signs, be aware of your surroundings, and run bad drivers off the road. I don't think I'm asking too much here.

Saturday, September 22, 2007

Spurrier is a Gamecock

LSU played the South Carolina Gamecocks on Saturday, and let's just say that Roscoe / Mike VI will be having roasted pheasant for a week or two. LSU won 28-16, and took home the traditional trophy of LSU vs. South Carolina games: Spurrier's gay visor.

And even better than winning another game, beating another SEC team, and kicking Spurrier in his tiny nuts, is the fact that I got to wear my "Spurrier is a Gamecock" shirt, as seen below.

Spurrier is a Gamecock, image 1.
Me yelling "Spank the Cocks!" at the camera.

Spurrier is a Gamecock, image 2.
Me giving my "Blue Steel" look.

Spurrier is a Gamecock, image 3.
A closeup of the magic shirt.

Spurrier is a Gamecock, image 4.
My beautiful wife sports the Cock shirt.

Spurrier is a Gamecock, image 5.
Us posing with our Cock shirts.

I should have printed a bunch of these shirts and sold them at the game, as I'm sure that I could have sent my first twelve children to college on the proceeds.

Maybe next year I'll also sell shorts for the girls - you know the kind, with the words on the butt. I can't understand why these are popular, but I'm sure some South Carolinian will buy one that says "Cock" on the back. (It will probably be Spurrier.)

Geaux Tigers!

Friday, September 21, 2007

A Tantrum Salute to Aaron

My good friend, Aaron, is moving to Texas soon. Friday was his last day of work. I met with him and some of my former coworkers at our old hangout, Chotchky's, and we all said our goodbyes.

It was a bittersweet day. We're happy to see him doing something he wants to do - ie, work as a project manager in Texas - but at the same time we're all sad that he's now dead to us.

Aaron was one of the original contributors to the Tantrum. He wrote a couple of blogs and gave ideas on others. He advertised the blog and got our friends interested in it when I still wasn't sure if anyone would think it was funny. We would sit around at lunch - okay, let's face, we'd sit around most of the workday - and talk about what to write on the blog. And when he would try to actually work, I would shoot spitballs at him over our cubicle's partition. Good times!

Aaron, co-piloting the Tantrum, in 2006
Aaron, co-piloting the Tantrum, in 2006

Aaron was also instrumental in helping to start the Tanory Tantrum Food Club, where we went on food outings to discover new restaurants in Baton Rouge and wrote about their food and bathrooms. Sometimes we would even go to restaurants that we had already been to, but we would just do something different and/or exciting when we went there, like the Halloween we went to Burger King dressed as the Burger King. (By the way, you get free chicken fries at Burger King if you dress up like the Burger King.)

Then, of course, there was Aaron's dedication to work. When I was the Fire Marshal at my former job, we had a fire drill and Aaron tried to stay behind and fix an error that had brought our entire system down. But I wouldn't let him be burned by a non-existent fire - mainly because he couldn't write Tantrums for me later if he was burnt to a crisp - so I threatened him with my Fire Marshal powers and made him leave his desk.

So here's to Aaron! Good luck at your new job. Have fun in Dallas. Tell the family hi for me. And remember, Louisiana is just a state away. Give me a call if you're ever back in the area.

Thursday, September 20, 2007

B Week

It was "B Week" at my wife's school, so Mr. BoBBy (which starts with a B) went to meet Mrs. Betty's class and read a Book.

The first time I went to my wife's class to read, several years ago, I was pretty terrified. I didn't know how I would do. Would the kids like me? Would I Be aBle to get all the words out while reading? Would I say something inappropriate and get my wife fired from the school? Would the kids love me so much that they would expect me to come By every day?

It all went fine that first time, of course, and now every year I go Back for 10 minutes to read to the kids. And this is what I learned in my 10 minutes each year with my wife's class: God Bless teachers.

Anyway, this year I read The Berenstain Bears: A New BaBy.

I liked the Book. It wasn't life-altering. I wouldn't recommend it to adults to read in their spare time. In fact, it really wasn't a good Book at all. Sure, it entertained the kids, But it didn't really discuss the issue of what it means to Be a Big Brother or Big sister after a new BaBy arrives.

Here's a synopsis: The child Bear wakes up with pains Because he has outgrown his Bed, so the dad takes him out into the forest to Build a new one. Papa Bear chops down a tree, splits the logs with his axe, chisels intricate details into the wood, then assembles a full Bed and Brings it Back to the Bears' house. Before they set off to Build the Bed, Mama Bear is 9 months preggers. By the time they get Back, a new Baby is in the Brother's old Bed and Mama Bear is already doing laundry and cooking dinner.

Okay, so it sucked. But again, the kids enjoyed it. Sure, it didn't really teach anything, But it entertained the kids and that's all I really set out to accomplish.

But after reading some of the Amazon reviews, you'd think that people expect the Berenstain Bears to Be classical literature! Here is one example of a review which I find personally offensive:

So disappointed!, By CamBell

As a lover of Berenstain Bears Books since I was a small child, I was horrified to read this Book! All the other reviews capture all that is wrong with this Book. We have relied on the Berenstain Bears to get through to our 5 year old for years, so I trusted that this Book would help explain a new addition to our family. I could not have Been more wrong! It turned into a discussion on all that was wrong with the Book- Very confusing for a child. The Berenstains should SERIOUSLY consider rewriting this Book as a service to their loyal fans. I must say, this Book is atypical and the rest of the series is FABULOUS!

Apparently this person wanted a two-page colored spread of Sister Bear's head popping out of Mama Bear, while Mama Bear pushes and screams, "You did this to me, Papa Bear! I should have stayed in hiBernation!" And when you flip the page, you see that Papa Bear has fainted and Brother Bear is crying, "Put the BaBy Back in!" Flip the page again and you see the parents worrying about money, start a college saving account for the new BaBy, and then explain to the Big Brother why Mama loves the second-born more than him.

Is this what you want, CamBell? Is this helping your child? You are sick!

Actually, I kind of like that. MayBe I'll write my own children's book. I'll send CamBell a copy, since we seem to agree on the lack of explicit details in The Berenstain Bears: A New BaBy.

Tuesday, September 18, 2007


In case you don't have time to read the news today, let me catch you up on what's going on in the world. If none of these mini-Tantrums make any sense, or if I pique your interest, please read the linked articles for more info.


The trolleys in New Orleans and San Francisco might be the only two moving monuments in America, but they've got nothing on Seattle's "South Lake Union Trolley," aka, SLUT. I think the SLUT's marketing team deserves a raise. I hope my cousins in Seattle ride the SLUT several times, then send me pictures and/or video.

Read more about the SLUT here.

Drive Me Crazy

Speaking of getting a raise and sluts, I apparently caused a carnie to crash his vehicle into a telephone pole. Yes, that's correct, a 22-year-old carnival worker blames two friends having sexual intercourse in the back seat of his car for an accident in which his Chevrolet S-10 Blazer struck a telephone pole. Sorry, bro. As a consolation prize, you can keep the 3-foot tall stuffed bear that I won when you couldn't guess my weight. You just might want to clean it first.

Read more about cock-blocking drivers here.

Spin Cycle

On the topic of spinning out of control, some Wall Street stock broker had road rage during spin class. He got tired of some other guy's grunting and moaning and threw the moaner and his stationary bike up against the wall. I'm in total agreement with this spin rager - I might even start busting into stalls and smacking around every person who moans and groans in the restroom at work. If you are in that much pain and/or ecstasy while using the restroom, you need to either be in counseling or in porn.

Read more about the Spin Rager here. Then don't by stocks from this man. Or take spin classes with him.

Hip Hop Ho-Down

That Wall Street broker wasn't the only guy smacking other guys around. Kanye West's album "Graduation" outsold 50 Cent's album "Curtis" by about 300,000 records. 50 Cent previously said he would retire if Kanye outsold him in the first week of sales. I think we should all celebrate - we've got 50 Cent out of the picture, now we just need to think of a way to get Kanye out.

Read more about Kanye so his head will get so big that it will explode.

No Sale

The million records of "Graduation" that Kanye West sold might have allowed him to buy his own country and name himself King Kanye I if eBay hadn't blocked the sale of the Kingdom of Belgium. You read the correctly - Belgium was for sale on eBay. You could even buy it in three parts or all at once. The only catch was that the winner of the bid for Belgium had to take on the country's debt of $300 billion. I was this close to having my own Tanory Land, but eBay took down the ad for Belgium after someone bid $14 million on it (which was $13.999 million more than I bid on it).

Read more about Belgium on eBay.

Beautiful Landscape

The Belgians are proud of their nation. And Americans are proud of their neighborhoods. That's why a 70-year-old woman was arrested for having a dead, brown lawn. She "resisted arrest" - although how a 70-year-old woman could really resist arrest is beyond me - and while doing so, fell and broke her nose. If this woman can be beaten up and arrested for having a bad lawn, then I'm in deep trouble! The woman pleaded Not Guilty and said we should "bring sanity back to law enforcement."

Read more about old women and brown lawns here.

Enforcing the Law

Bring sanity back to law enforcement? Never! If they did that, we wouldn't have entertaining stories about how cops arrested and tasered a University of Florida student during a Question and Answer session with John Kerry. After watching the video in the link below, I still can't figure out if the cops arrested this kid for being a public nuisance or for just attending a John Kerry campus forum.

The police are going to conduct an internal investigation into whether or not they used excessive force. I don't know of any "internal investigation" that has ever said that the actions of the police was excessive. Hey, I'm not complaining, I just want to see some cops taser Florida's football team before we play them in October, and I want to make sure that the cops will get away with it.

More About Tasered Florida Guy Here

Talk Like a Pirate Day

Sure, screaming when the police taser you can be fun, but what's more fun than talking like a pirate? Wednesday is International Talk Like A Pirate Day, and I hope my workplace has no dress code against eye patches, leather boots, swords and hooks, because that's what I'm wearing. I also hope there's no rules against storming another person's cubicle and making way with all of their loot.

More about International Talk Like a Pirate Day

That's it for the mini-Tantrums. Consider yourself cultured!

Monday, September 17, 2007

Nebraska State Senator Sues God

Less than a week after USC's NCAA football team defeated Nebraska 49-31, Nebraska state senator Ernie Chambers has filed suit against God.

When asked why he decided to sue God, Chambers just shrugged and said, "I prayed my damn ass off about that game, and I feel like God totally ignored me. God can either reimburse me for the mental pain and anguish associated to losing to those California liberal bastards, as well as pay my attorney fees, or I'll see him in court."

The official court documents show that the subpoena for God will list several, though not all, of His aliases, such as El, Allah, and YHWH. Chambers has filed a separate suit against the Holy Trinity to include conspiracy charges.

God did not immediately return our calls, and a couple of saints that I prayed to said that God would probably only speak off the record. However, some angels, who have asked to remain anonymous as they are not authorized to speak to the media, told us to keep our eyes peeled for some good old fashioned "shock and awe" smiting at the next Nebraska legislative session.

For his part, Chambers did say that he hoped more people did not sue God at the moment, as this could lead to a class action lawsuit. In Chambers' words, "the only people who benefit from class action lawsuits are those damn, demonic, blood-sucking lawyers. Look, I'm not out to make the Devil win. I just want Nebraska's football team to not suck so much."

Nebraska's next game is against Ball State this Saturday at 11:30 Central, and USC will be busy doing unholy things with the AP voters until Monday morning.

Sunday, September 16, 2007

An Ode to My Wife

My wife won the First Annual Tantrum Emmy Awards Challenge, and her prize of choice was for me to write "An Ode to My Wife."

Yes, dear.

So in honor of my wife defeating me, my mother and my father in the Emmy Awards Challenge, I present to you:

An Ode to My Wife, by Bobby Tanory

In the Fall of the year 2000, my fraternity, FIJI, and my wife's sorority, Delta Zeta, had a "Wet and Wild" exchange at my apartment.

Actually, it was not solely "my" apartment - I was rooming with my brother, Todd, at the time. Todd and I had thought up some great strategery for this particular party. We decided to have one person attend the party for 30 minutes while the other person stayed in the apartment and made sure that nobody flooded the toilet, got jiggy in our beds, or tracked mud in the house, then we would switch roles after a half hour.

My brother took the first "party shift." Three hours later, he finally returned to the apartment. I swore to wrestle him and/or kill him later, but right I now had little to no time to attend the party and find a potential date to that week's LSU football game. I rushed out of our second floor apartment in search of a cute girl.

I was dressed to kill at this party. I wore a grass skirt, British Flag underwear, sandals, sunglasses, a blue hat and an open Hawaiian shirt flowing about me. I'm sure that I was a sight to see. And as I was descending the stairs of my apartment, the spotlight we had set up on the balcony beamed right into two girls' faces at the bottom of the stairs. It was like the Light of Heaven was shining down upon the one on the right. I took the final step off the stairs and approached what just might be the prettiest girl to ever have lived.

"Hey baby, wanna go on the Slip N Slide?" was my suave pickup line. If I could only see myself now, I would give myself a wedgie, dunk my head in the FIJI punch, then give my future wife-to-be a much sexier line than that. But she smiled, looked me in the eyes, and said, "Sure!"

I can only attribute her willingness to go on the Slip N Slide with me to my British Flag underwear.

We approached the Slip N Slide, counted to three, then ran like the dickens and slid down the length of the visquine. We made it all the way down, and as my Slip N Slide date was trying to stand up, I jumped on her, held her face to the soapy slide and said, "I'm not letting you up until you agree to go with me to the LSU football game this weekend."

What a man!

She said yes, of course, as what girl would not? I had totally shown her that I was an alpha male with brute strength who looked awesome in a Speedo and had perfect Slip N Slide technique.

To this day, I'm still not sure why she didn't call the cops on me as soon as she left the premises. (Maybe she did - my apartment was right on the South Gates of campus, and the Baton Rouge police thought that we were the LSU police's problem, and vice versa. The world may never know.)

Fast forward a year and a half. I'm standing outside of the Delta Zeta sorority house, handcuffed and naked except for my British Flag underwear. Yes, my fraternity brothers had found out that I "dropped" my girlfriend - that is to say, I gave a girl my fraternity letters. And while my fraternity brothers were incredibly happy that I had found someone who would actually put up with my BS, they were even happier to have someone to tie up, strip down and leave for dead in front of a house full of beautiful girls. As my then-girlfriend, Betty, runs down the length of the yard to cover me with a pair of shorts, my friend Jordan rips my British Flag underwear off of me, exposing me to the women of Delta Zeta and making me a legend for years to come.

Fast forward to November, 2003. It's Thanksgiving Day, all of my family is around, and I'm giving the Thanksgiving prayer. During the prayer, I ask Betty to marry me. How can she possibly say no? She couldn't, of course. It was the perfect plan.

I don't remember details very well. I don't remember what I wore last week - although I'm sure it was one of the same 5 shirts I wear every week - but I do remember her face that day. I'll always remember that moment with perfect clarity.

Fast forward to now. We've been married a little over three years, and have been together a total of seven. And every single one of those days has been just as fun, crazy and exciting as the first time we met. (Only nowadays, it's her holding my head down in soapy water until I agree to do whatever she tells me to do. Usually it's yard work, house work or to balance the checkbook, and I fight until the very end. But she always wins - soapy water is my Kryptonite.)

And to think, if my brother hadn't totally screwed me out of enjoying the Wet N Wild party in the Fall of 2000, I might not be writing "An Ode to My Wife" right now. Not only would I have probably gotten drunk and asked several girls to go to the LSU football game with me until someone was drunk enough to say yes, but I might have even married someone who wouldn't have beaten me at the First Annual Tanory Tantrum Emmy Awards Challenge.

Bada Bing!

HBO is arguably the greatest television network in TV history. They have innovative shows, can drop F-bombs, and sometimes, late at night, they show boobies. What's not to like?

But since I'm too cheap to pay for HBO, I end up watching all of the great HBO series years after everyone else is talking about them. So it goes.

A couple of months ago we watched all of Rome. Then we watched Entourage - by the way, the second half of Entourage Season 2 comes out in October. Oh yeah! Then we watched all of Curb Your Enthusiasm.

But my Enthusiasm was not Curbed - it was only enhanced. So this month we're on a Sopranos marathon. Well, it's not really a marathon - we're just going to sit around for 86 hours and watch TV. No running or exercise involved, unless it's me running to the restroom during the opening credits of Episode 42.

I'm looking forward to whatever other series HBO has in store for us, and fully anticipate loving it and talking very highly about it several years in the future, when it comes out on DVD.

Friday, September 14, 2007

The Emmy Awards: The Bet

Are you a pathological gambler? Do you feel the need to boast about how much better or how much smarter you are than other people? Do you read the Tantrum on a pretty regular basis? If so, you're probably a Tanory.

Well, I have a bet for you.

There are some people who bet on sports. Some people find it makes things more interesting. For example, if you bet on a football game, you're going to watch the entire game from start to finish.

But I don't have that problem with sports. I'll watch any sport, any time. Football, soccer, baseball, golf, cricket, ping pong, cards, quarters, cheerleading, bass fishing - anything that involves some type of competition and is on TV or playing in a field somewhere, I don't need extra incentive.

But I do need to bet on the Emmy's in order to watch the whole thing, otherwise I just really don't care. I don't watch that much TV, to be honest. The problem with the Emmy's is that I need someone to bet against. I've defeated my family two years in a row, and a trifecta is unprecedented.

This is where you come in.

Here's the deal. I'll post my picks below. You then leave a comment with your picks. (Or if you get the Tantrum via email, just reply with your picks.) Have your comments in by the start of the Emmy's. If you use "Anonymous" at least state your first name in the comments so I know who you are.

The scorecard we will be using is from E! Online. Get it here.

If I win, I'll continue on as usual. If you win, you get to pick from the following spoils:

1. You get to write a blog and have it posted on the Tantrum.
2. You can send me a general idea of what you want posted and I'll write a blog about it.
3. You can send me a general idea of what you want me to do, and I'll go out, take pictures of me doing it, and post it on the blog. Anything you want, as long as it won't get me arrested, killed, infected with some deadly bacteria, or divorced.
4. You can post what you want to win in your comment and I'll see what I can do.

Okay, let's get down to business. Here are my predictions:

Drama series: The Sopranos

The Garden State: home of Bon Jovi, the Sopranos, gardens (apparently), and the Emmy for best Drama.

Comedy series: Entourage

I like Entourage, then 30 Rock, then The Office, then Two and a Half Men, then Ugly Betty. I'm not really giving Ugly Betty a chance, but they may be the spoiler - they're the only show centered around a woman. They'll get the chick vote. But in the end, Entourage is so much about Hollywood, and Hollywood loves itself, so that's why the two shows about making movies and/or TV are at the top of my list.

Miniseries: The Starter Wife

Because everyone in Hollywood can identify with a starter wife.

Made for TV Movie: Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee

Based on a book, starring Adam Beach from Windtalkers, and made by HBO, so I like it even though I haven't seen it. Although the Ron Clark Story is about a teacher making a difference in a tough school, and who doesn't like that?

Reality program: Extreme Makeover: Home Edition

Because Hollywood wants thousands of civilians to build them new studios for free, then cry joyful tears about it on camera later.

Reality-competition program: The Amazing Race

I've never seen it, but The Amazing Race always wins. My other choice is Dancing with the Stars, because Hollywood is retarded.

Variety, Music or Comedy Series: The Colbert Report

And that's the Word.

Variety, Music or Comedy Special: Tony Bennett: An American Classic

Hollywood loves Tony Bennett for some reason.

Lead actor in a drama: James Gandolfini for The Sopranos

All the actors in the Best Actor category are great, but Gandolfini kills the competition and dumps them in the lake.

Lead actress in a drama: Edie Falco for The Sopranos

I almost want to say Minnie Driver, because I think Mariska Hargitay, Sally Fields and Edie Falco will split votes. But in the end, some people get spoken to, some money changes hands, and bada bing, Falco gets herself an Emmy.

Supporting Actor in a Drama Series: Masi Oka for Heroes

This one is a close call. It's either T. R. Knight - first because he's great in Grey's Anatomy, and second because you know Hollywood loves the gays. And even though I think Heroes is a really crappy rip-off of X-Men, Masi Oka is good in it. He also got a lot of media attention for his role.

Supporting Actress in a Drama Series: Lorraine Bracco for The Sopranos

She's a sexier psychiatrist than Freud ever was. And she's one of the central facets of the show.

Lead Actor in a Comedy Series: Alec Baldwin for 30 Rock

Tony Shalhoub usually wins this one, but I'm going with the Baldwin. Although, in all honestly, Baldwin should win for Best Actor in a Drama for that phone call he made to his daughter.

Lead Actress in a Comedy Series: America Ferrera for Ugly Betty

I've never seen Ugly Betty. I think Tina Fey is great, and Mary-Louise Parker is awesome in Weeds. But Mary-Louise Parker won last year, and Tina Fey has too many other good people in 30 Rock. Who else does Ugly Betty have except America Ferrera?

Supporting Actor in a Comedy Series: Rainn Wilson for The Office

I like Jeremy Piven, but he won last year for Entourage. I think this Emmy will look like a Dwight Schrute bobblehead.

Supporting Actress in a Comedy Series: Jenna Fischer for The Office

Male voters will remember that she wore kinky lingerie in Blades of Glory. Enough said.

Lead Actor in a Miniseries or Movie: Matthew Perry for The Ron Clark Story

Perry seems to have a lot of Friends in the industry.

Lead Actress in a Miniseries or Movie: Mary-Louise Parker for The Robber Bride

Or Queen Latifah or Debrah Messing. Or Helen Mirren. I just like Parker in Weeds.

Supporting Actor in a Miniseries or Movie: Aidan Quinn for Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee

I don't know who this guy is. But his name is Aidan. Emmy!

Supporting Actress in a Miniseries or Movie: Judy Davis

Because she's crazy. Or maybe Australian. One of those.

Guest Actor in a Comedy Series: Ian McKellen for Extras

Hollywood loves when Shakespearian actors do comedy.

Guest Actress in a Comedy Series: Elaine Stritch for Desparate Housewives

The second season of Desperate Housewives really sucked. But Elaine Stritch is great.

Guest Actor in a Drama Series: Forest Whitaker for ER

Run, Forest, run to the stage to collect your Emmy. Wait, ER is still on TV?

Guest Actress in a Drama Series: Elizabeth Reaser for Grey's Anatomy

Elizabeth Reaser had the recurring role of the pregnant woman who got her face all busted up on Grey's Anatomy, and managed to make Season 2 more interesting than it actually was even while just lying in bed every episode.

Thursday, September 13, 2007

The Doctor

I'm going to the doctor on Friday. The last time I went to the doctor, it was for pains in my side. My doctor couldn't tell what was wrong so he ended up performing an "invasive examination," if you catch my drift.

I'm not anxious to go back.

In fact, I'm not sure how to act with this doctor. What do I do? What do I say? He's done things to me that no other person on Earth has done or would want to do - and I was charged a copayment for it. I feel so dirty!

You may be thinking, but Bob, he won't remember you - this guy probably has his hand in ten or twelve guys' asses any given day! To that I would say that you're right, and that I'm lucky that I was one of his first patients that day.

As I've already mentioned, my doctor couldn't find anything to indicate why I was having pains in my side. He ended up referring me to a specialist. This alleged specialist just ended up doing the same thing the previous doctor did - namely, putting on a rubber glove, rubbing some lubricant on it, and then earning his big paycheck as doctor. Specialists cost more, so he did a more thorough search. He came up empty, thankfully. (Pun alert? Pow?)

I gotta tell you, I couldn't be a doctor. Not only could I not cut someone open, play with their organs then stitch them back up again, but I definitely couldn't rummage around in someone's ass all day. The horror... the horror!

That's why I encourage all of my Med School buddies to seriously consider becoming a colorectal surgeon, which is a fancy term for "proctologist," which is just a fancy word for a butt doctor. I need someone I can trust down there. And since most of you crazy Med School buddies have seen my ass at one time or another when I was running around naked on campus, it will be just like the good ol' days, except this time you'll be paid for it.

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Texas Facts

Here are a couple of Texas Facts for you Texas fanories. My thanks to for letting me steal their material.

1. Texas is known as the Lone Star State, because no other state wants to play with Texas as it is so arrogant.

2. Texans think they are the most patriotic, but Texas flies the flags of the following 6 nations fly over it: Spain, France, Mexico, Republic of Texas, Confederate States, and the United States. This is where the term "Six Flags" comes from. Hey Texans, there is only one flag worth flying, and it's red, white and blue, and it has 50 stars on it, not just one.

3. More wool comes from Texas than any other state. You know what they say about Texas: Only steers, queers and woolly sheep live in Texas, and you don't much look like a steer or woolly sheep to me so that kind of narrows it down.

4. Texas boasts the nation's largest herd of whitetail deer. Yes, that's correct, they boast about this. Well just let one of those deer mosey on over the state line and we'll show you why Louisiana is called the Sportsman's Paradise.

5. The capitol building in Austin opened May 16, 1888. The dome of the building stands seven feet higher than that of the nation's Capitol in Washington, D.C. but is still shorter than Louisiana's capitol building, which is the largest in the country. BOOYAH, BITCHES.

6. The Houston Comets are the only team in the country to win four back-to-back WNBA championships. 1997-2000 Cynthia Cooper remains the only player to win the WNBA Championship MVP. Unfortunately for Texas, nobody gives a shit.

7. Texas's cattle population is estimated to be near 16 million. That's some convenient lovin' for you Texas folk.

8. More species of bats live in Texas than in any other part of the United States. But New Orleans has killer bees. Suck it, bat lovers!

9. Aaron, my friend and contributor to the Tantrum, is moving to Dallas in a couple of weeks. Good luck with the new job, new house, new life, etc! And thanks for all you've done to help make the Tantrum the most successful blog EVER in all of history. We couldn't have done it without you. Just remember, Aaron, once you move to Texas, you're dead to us.

10. I saved the best Texas fact for last. My sister lives in Houston and it is her birthday on Thursday. Happy Birthday, sis! For your birthday I'm writing about why I hate Texas.

Monday, September 10, 2007

Hit Her, Baby, Several More Times

In case you missed Britney Spears' craptastic performance at the MTV Video Music Awards, you can check out the video at the link below:

I would write more about it, but I've watched the video twice and my brain is now mush.

Everyone thinks that this is the final straw, the downfall of Britney, the end of the career, etc. But I don't think so.

America loves a good train wreck!

Football Frenzy

It's football season again! Yippee! I mean, grunt grunt grunt!

It's been almost a full week of football, and I gotta tell you, I don't know how much more of this my wife can take. Between all the games on Thursday, Saturday, Sunday and Monday, she's getting really tired of me running around in a loin cloth, pounding my chest and screaming at the refs at the top of my lungs while spanking the furniture with a wooden club.

Psh. Like she didn't know what she was getting into when she married me.

The wonderful world of football is a roller coaster ride of emotions. There is drama, joy, thrills, suspense, cheerleaders, tragedy, and of course, political intrigue. For instance, I was just reading that the New England Patriots have been accused of illegal spying on the New York Jets' by recording their sideline signals. This alleged "illegal spying" sounds exactly like what the American government is doing, so in my mind, that only proves that New England's team truly is a bunch of patriots!

Now if they could just take the Indianapolis Colts to secret torture chambers, I'd vote for Tom Brady for President.

In other news, JaMarcus Russell finally reached an agreement with the Oakland Raiders for $68 million. Hey Mom and Dad, why didn't you let me play football when I was a kid instead of getting me interested in computers? Thanks for nothing!

Sunday, September 09, 2007

Imaginary Foes

A lot of people go through stages as a kid where they have one or more imaginary friends. In my case, I have imaginary foes.

When I'm in my car, by myself, I yell a lot at nobody in particular. I'm sure a lot of people get a kick out of looking in their rear-view mirrors when I'm behind them. Or maybe they get scared. All I know is, they're getting a free show.

Sure, sometimes my road rage is directed at a woman putting on her make-up as she makes a left turn, or at the redneck teenager in his suped-up truck driving 95 on Airline. But most of the time, it's just me screaming at someone in my head.

I also like to stand in front of the mirror and yell at myself and/or my imaginary foe. "Are you talking to me? Are you talking to me? I don't see anyone else here. It's just you, me, and this rubber ducky. So you must be talking to me."

I hate when people walk in on me when I'm really tearing into an imaginary foe. It's so embarrassing. I have to stand up out of my Kung Fu stance, put on a shirt, and then try to explain myself.

So I'm letting you all know right now: if I'm driving or walking behind you, and if I am screaming my head off, slapping the steering wheel, and possibly air-punching some invisible nemesis, don't be alarmed. It's just me whupping ass and taking imaginary names.

Friday, September 07, 2007

Love is in the Air

Love is in the air!

That's right, it's Love Bug season. And once again, we humans will watch jealously as two bugs, one male and one female, get jiggy with each other for the entirety of their adult lives, flying cheek to cheek.

In addition to being incredibly horny, Love Bugs are kamikaze sex maniacs. They will bombard your car as you drive, splatter themselves over your freshly waxed exterior, and then melt the paint off your car with their ultra-acidic body chemistry. (Kind of like how the aliens in the Alien franchise melted things with their blood and saliva. Yeah, I know, I'm a huge nerd.)

We can only hope that, during the LSU vs. Virginia Tech football game on Saturday night, a super-massive black cloud of Love Bugs will descend on Virginny Tech's players - drawn, obviously, by V-Tech's red, "love-colored" uniforms - and copulate fiercely in their eyes. Then, as the Hokies try to swat the Love Bugs away, the bugs' acidic guts will melt away the skin and irises of the opposing team, and the air will fill will toxic, acidic gas and Virginia Tech will have to forfeit. It's either that or get eaten by the New Mike, who has been hankering for some smoked Hokie. Or maybe both. Who knows, the New Mike might be kinky enough to eat half-melted Hokies covered with sexified bugs.

Either way, it's going to be a great game. Bring your bug spray.

Thursday, September 06, 2007

The Saints March into a Cul-de-Sac

Someone queue U2 and Green Day to start playing 'The Saints are Marching,' because the Saints are marching, baby!

What's that? The Saints lost to the Colts 41-10?

Not in my mind. In my mind, the Saints played brilliantly and won every play on the field. I've already lit several cars on fire in my exuberant celebration, and have uncorked several bottles of Sparkling Wine. Man, I'm drunk - on victory.

Woooo! Go Saints!

Seriously, the Saints got their butts handed to them. But since when did Saints need butts? Didn't most Saints become Saints by being killed in the name of their religion? It sounds to me like the Saints really lived up to their namesake.

Oh well. At least we still have the LSU game against Virginny Tech on Saturday. And if there's one thing that we all know tigers hate more than anything, it's hokies. It should be a good one. I'll bring my lighter fluid and champagne for our post-game victory celebration... see you at Coates after the game.

Tuesday, September 04, 2007

Restless Leg Syndrome

Does your leg shake? Do you know someone whose leg is shaking right now? Maybe the couch shakes violently when your friend sits down on it, and the only hope is to jump on him and hold him down so you can get some peace, quiet, and non-shaking rest on the couch. It's a pretty common urge to reach out and grab the person's leg in an effort to bring attention to the fact that the uncontrollable shaking is a nuisance, but doing so will only make matters worse. This uncontrollable shaking is known as Restless Leg Syndrome (RLS), and RLS is a disease.

In fact, the realities of RLS are only now being brought to the attention of the public. This once-ridiculed affliction has been upgraded from "irritating twitch" to "bona fide disease." And we shakers are not going to let our legs be unshaked anymore: Leg-shakers unite!

That's correct... I am one of the afflicted.

I first noticed that I had RLS when I was at a High School dance. Maybe the disease had finally gotten hold over my leg, or maybe it was the vibrations from the bass speaker, or maybe it was even just the funky music that the DJ was playing, but I can clearly remember that my leg just started shaking uncontrollably. Next thing I knew, I was the center of attention and everyone was trying to emulate my shaking leg, as if it were some sort of dance move. Soon it seemed as though all of the Class of '98 was having a mass affliction of Restless Leg Syndrome.

But now that I'm older I've learned to control my uncontrollable leg shakes. But my problem is no longer limited to my legs: I now have Restless Middle Leg Syndrome (RMLS).

Actually, I noticed this problem around Middle School. I was 12, and PBS was broadcasting a program about breast examinations. Something was happening to my body, but I didn't know what it was. I was scared!

"What's happening to my body?" I yelled at the breast examiners. PBS academically noted my question, then broke to commercial.

I was too embarrassed to talk about my RMLS. Who could I turn to? My mother surely wouldn't understand, and what if my father thought it was nonsense? And my brother, well, I just knew that he would only torture me and tease me like any red-blooded American older brother would do in a time such as this. After a while my RMLS died down and I was able to live a semi-normal life again, until, of course, my RMLS struck again.

I'm now out to control my Restless Middle Leg Syndrome. I need help, and hopefully with all of the medical attention being paid to this disease, I won't have to help myself. I've been driving around to different clinics, telling them - and sometimes showing them - my Restless Middle Leg Syndrome symptoms, but so far nobody's offered any good advice other than "Please put your pants back on and get out of here before I call the cops." Some people just don't understand the pain and anguish associated with this disease.

(Editor's Note: Restless Leg Syndrome is formally known as Wittmaack-Ekbom's Syndrome. This is completely different from Ekbom's Syndrome, which is where a person believes he or she is infested by parasites. But if you do have Ekbom's syndrome, then it's probably good to also have Restless Leg Syndrome, as then you might be able to shake some of those parasites off of you. But if you have both Ekbom's Syndrome and Wittmaack-Ekbom's Syndrome, then you may want to check out the Herpes treatments at your local Walgreens.)

Monday, September 03, 2007

A Changed Man

I got to see my nephew this weekend, and I did something I've never done before:

I changed a dirty diaper.

It was only a matter of time before I did the dirty deed. My family played a game called "Whoever Is Holding Him When He Poops Has To Change Him." Sounds like a fun game, huh? Probably not as much fun as you think. And wouldn't you know it, but I must give off a laxative aroma, because my nephew waited to let loose until I held him in my arms. That may also be why my coworkers are constantly running to the restroom, holding their bottoms.

I didn't really know the mechanics of changing a dirty diaper, so I conned my mom into changing him the first time around. I studied the technique with a learned eye: accumulate the necessary tools (clean diaper, wash wipe(s), butt cream for diaper rash, etc), unbutton the onesie, take a deep breath and hold it, open diaper, avert face from smell, hold legs and lift, wipe, throw away, administer clean diaper, button onesie, and finally, take a breath of fresh air.

But as soon as I'd pick him up, he'd do his patented "grunt and release," and then it was time to change him again. At least we know his bowels are working.

If you've never changed a baby before, then let me advise you on one thing to really worry about when changing a baby: projectile peeing while the diaper is off. Always cover the infant's wiener with something, otherwise he will use you for target practice. Can't blame the little dude - when else will it be acceptable for him to pee on somebody, other than in niche web audiences?

So here's to changing diapers. I'm just happy that my brother will be in charge of it from now on until at least Thanksgiving. Happy pooping, nephew!

Sunday, September 02, 2007

Labor Day

Happy Labor Day!

And a very happy Labor Day to all of you working those great Labor Day sales. You totally got screwed.

Labor Day is a day of rest from work to celebrate the working man. But I also like to think of it as a day to celebrate all of those women who have given labor. I also like to include Labradors in my celebration - that sounds like Labor. So let's celebrate the working man, all women of a birthing persuasion, and dogs. Hurray!

I think a celebration of women during Labor Day is appropriate, even excluding labor pains as part of the Labor Day celebrations, because women can multitask like it's nobody's business. I know that my wife does the lion's share of work in my house. She's capable of doing several things at one time, all the while thinking of what else needs to be done, and organizing her work in such a way that the upper management of my work would be dazzled. And of course, she does all of this while taking care of her spoiled husband.

Picture of alleged spoiled husband.

As a man, I'm only capable of thoughts slightly more complicated than a single-cell organism. I can do one thing at a time, but I rock at that one thing. Nothing else can get into my brain after I get in the zone with that one task, which drives my wife crazy (in a bad way) when she's trying to tell me what else needs to be done.

In fact, everything men do - including working - is in an effort to impress women. When men finally figured out that women will like us if we get a good job, drive a nice car, and wear nice clothes, we finally found some other way to get a women to go home with us other than hitting them in the head with a club and dragging them to our caves. So really, all labor derives from women in some way.

But I think that we should celebrate women today because, unlike men, they don't need to be told what needs to be done. They see what needs to be done, and they do it. They're the best. And they have breasts. What's not to celebrate?

Saturday, September 01, 2007

Tutti Frutti

Every generation looks down on the subsequent generations' music. It's just a fact of life. My great-great-grandparents thought the Big Band era was a tool of the devil. My great-grandparents thought rock n' roll was satanic. My grandparents thought Disco deserved to die a quick and painful death. My parents think Alternative music sounds like random chords and screams as performed by mentally retarded chimpanzees. And I hate Rap and Hip Hop because, as everyone knows, it sucks.

We of the newer generations grow up with our parents' music and eventually learn to tolerate it, although we usually can't understand how anyone grew to actually like it. Of course, we have to put things into historical perspective - times back then were different. Lyrics were censored, dark sides of musicians' lives were not blabbed about in the tabloids, and everything was made to be as mainstream as possible. Today's Pop music environment is basically the same as it was back then, just with a more cleavage.

But because people were much more innocent back then, it was common for songs to have hidden meanings and subliminal messages. Consider "Mr. Tambourine Man," a song about a drug dealer, or "Brown Eyed Girl," a song about the ol' brown eye, and "Rocket Man," obviously about being gay.

But listening to Sirius satellite radio, a song came on that I've heard a million times before, but suddenly my brain connected the dots and I saw through to the subliminal message in the lyrics. What song was this? you ask.

Tutti Frutti, by Little Richard.

Tutti Frutti is Italian for "all fruits," but in Little Richards' song, it means to get jiggy with another's rump roast.

Tutti Frutti video

My parents' generation, YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF. At least have the decency to talk about alternative love techniques out in the open.