I love Spam.

These are two emails in my Spam folder.

The first one I replied to in earnest and the second I forwarded on to B Harris for obvious reasons.

I like laugh much long time

I like Asian people. Hell, I co-existed with one for 10 months or so during my senior year of college. I find them to be tall, goofy, prone to peeing in their rooms, but always decent fodder for shtick. Perhaps the former roommate/Asian in question is the exception to the rule in regard to height, but certainly not in matters of sexual performance or being the butt of ongoing jokes.

Never is this more apparent than on Engrish.com, which posts some of the best, bastardized, most outlandish American signs found across the globe. The majority of these are found in Japan where, apparently, literal translation is for the birds.

With that, here are several that I find to be particularly ridiculous and/or hilarious.

Full credit to AP & JS

One year older

Tomorrow is not only Saturday, it is B Harris' 25th Birthday. In honor of this monumental event, I thought I would come up with a list of an additional 24 things that I wish were never conceived.

1. LifeTime Television

2. Hello Kitty

3. Cargo Pockets (on shorts or pants)

4. Evangelicalism

5. The Geico Cavemen Commercials

6. Popped Collars

7. Crystal Pepsi

8. Bikinis for Fatties

9. Nickleback/Linkin Park

10. Small Dogs

11. Pauly Shore

12. Turtlenecks

13. France

14. Gilmore Girls

15. Whopppers (Malted milk balls)

16. Croakies

17. Carson Daly

18. Rudy Thomas

19. Single-ply toilet paper

20. Visors

21. Monogamy

22. Puka Shell necklaces

23. Everybody Loves Raymond

24. Fran Drescher


What the efffff?!

David Blaine Street Magic

Hey, it's the guy from those shirts

Benicio Del Toro stars in this Steven Soderbergh-directed film about that dude who occasionally apears on cool t-shirts. What is his deal, anyway? Doesn't he know that berets are stupid?

In all seriousness, this looks outstanding, although I fear the rekindling of Che t-shirt love as a result of this movie's success may outweigh any benefit to society the film would have on its own.

Gift Idea!

With Cheeze's birthday just around the corner (in August), it may be prudent for you all to begin the quest to find him the perfect gift. Might I suggest his dream item?

The Cristiano Ronaldo 2009 Soccer Calendar - $10.99

This two-footed star is rapidly rising to the top echelon of the game. Playing for both his national team and Manchester United, Ronaldo is known the world-over for his skills with the ball. This calendar is for fans of his on-field moves and his off-field physique (yowzers!). 12-month, full color calendar.

Beer Muscles

Yesterday, we examined some of the poor decisions that females make on a day-to-day basis. In an effort to put all of our readership under such scrutiny, I thought I would look at some of the idiotic ways that their counterparts act, in this particular case, whilst drinking.

Some time ago some person said, and I am paraphrasing here, that the first thing that dissolves in alcohol is dignity. Now, I think that is a truth that we can all hold to be self-evident. Men (and women, just not in this post) will do a wide variety of things when they are deep in their pints/bottles/fifths. I personally like to admonish people with obscenities from the safety of a cab. Men are also liable to: cry into their beers, wallowing in self-pity; shoot fake jump shots whilst walking along Wisconsin Ave, in front of other people no less; unrealistically believe they can get the sexiest piece in the bar; go home with her friend, an orange-tinted, straw-haired beauty instead; not be able to perform; cry; eat exorbitant amounts of pizza; dance like they have never danced before; fall out of chairs; pee (and if you are really unfortunate/drunk, poo) your pants; go into impromptu performances of West Side Story (this might just be me and my friends); believe they are unbeatable at bar/drinking games; punch walls when they lose; and one last thing, (that always seems to overtake some Meshugener) grow beer muscles.

I am not exactly sure why this happens. I surmise it is because all these guys have too much pent up aggression. It could be sexual frustration, envy, jealousy or just plain old ignorance. They get all liquored up and don't know how to control themselves. It is really quite obnoxious and I would imagine a sizable turn-off for the ladies who, on the off chance, might be willing to let them grope and harass their unmentionables.

I don't think it will ever really stop, but guys, if you are reading this and are prone to beer muscles, I curse you. (Most likely with a killer spell uttered under my breath from the back of a speeding taxi.)


This guy will eat you.


Impossible is the Opposite of Possible

In October 2006, Yale University student Aleksey Vayner applied for a job with UBS AG. That's cool, people apply for jobs all the time, myself included. Apparently we all missed the memo about what should really be included in applications. Cover letter and resume only? Scoff. A big, swinging D produces the following to prospective employers:

Cover letter

Resume: One and a half page

Writing Sample: Eight pages

A glamour shot

Seven-minute video that features the following feats (in order):

o Interview: gives advice for achieving life goals

o Bench press: 495 pounds (225 kilograms)

o Downhill skiing: with jumps

o Tennis serve: 140 miles per hour (225 km/h or 63 m/s)

o Ballroom dancing: with female dancer

o Karate chop: seven bricks broken

The video resume is below. Please watch whilst keeping in mind that this ass-clown is 100% serious.

Awesome. What's more awesome is Michael Cera's parody.

Just For Golfers

Some new terminology from the Brits.

A Paris Hilton - an expensive hole

A Salman Rushdie - an impossible read

A Rock Hudson - looked straight, but it wasn't

A Cuban - needed one more revolution

An Elton John - a big bender that lips the rim

An Adolf Hitler - two shots in the bunker

A Saddam Hussein - from one bunker straight into another

A Yasser Arafat - ugly and in the sand

A Kate Winslett - little bit fat but otherwise perfect

A Rodney King - over-clubbed

An O.J. Simpson - got away with it

A Princess Di - shouldn't have taken a driver

A Michael Jackson - gradually fading

A Ladyboy - looks like an easy hole but all is not what it seems

A condom - safe but didn't feel real good

An Anna Kournikova - looks great, but unlikely to get a result

A Brazilian - Shaves both sides of the hole

A Jeb Bush--too far to the right, out of play

A Nancy Pelosi-too far left, clueless on how to get home from there

Orange is in???

It has come to my attention, not necessarily recently, that girls (boys too, but not in this article) can make some superbly idiotic decisions. On a daily basis they are liable to: dye their hair that stunningly absurd straw/hay color; listen to terrible pop music; menstruate; not make me sandwiches; blindly and against all human intuition believe B Harris when he tells them he is straight; put on make-up whilst driving; wear uggs; buy single-ply toilet paper on purpose; keep shows like Girls Next Door, Gossip Girl and American Idol afloat; cry/whine; consider Oprah to be an authority on life, when in fact, she should be consulted only prior to a pie-eating contest; sport disproportionately-sized sunglasses; get drunk and then cry/whine; and lastly, my least favorite, get a fake tan.

I know that it is the dead of winter, and the suns rays are not strong enough to bake you to that ideal crisp, but for pete's sake, show some restraint. I will refrain from using the term oompa-loompa, but Lord, many of you not only look out of place, but just overtly ridiculous. It really wouldn't even be that bad if you could show some temperance, I will concede that a little color never hurt anyone. Except red heads. Why is it then that you can't stop, you have to keep returning to the tanning bed until any last semblance of sense has been burned away. When I walk around, evidence of fake tanning is everywhere and I think it needs to stop. Please, for the sake of your skin, your general appearance and men everywhere who find it repulsive.

Just look at some of these girls.

Out of place? I'd say so.


give me a break.

No words

I loves it rough


I'm fairly certain that the majority of these are either staged, or completely unreal, but nevertheless, some good footage of people narrowly missing having various limbs severed and the like.



Our generation, or the generation that is most likely reading this blog, does not seem to be familiar with the classic 1981 film, Arthur, starring Dudley Moore, Liza Minnelli and some stud named John Gielgud. I think I first watched it back in high school and have loved it ever sense.

I just wanted to bring it up so you all would be aware of its existence and possibly, if you ever felt the need, or just saw it on some random channel one day, to give it a chance. It really is hilarious. Dudley Moore plays such a great drunk and Hobson (Gielgud) is classic. He won an Oscar (Best Actor in a Supporting Role).

Here are some of my favorite quotes. You might have seen some of them before.

Arthur: You're a hooker? Jesus, I forgot! I just thought I was doing GREAT with you!


Hobson: Thank you for a memorable afternoon, usually one must go to a bowling alley to meet a woman of your stature.


[Arthur suddenly laughs uproariously]
Gloria: Why are you laughing now?
Arthur: Sometimes I just think funny things.


Arthur: Hobson, do you know what the worst thing is about being me?
Hobson: I should imagine your breath.


Arthur: Have you ever been on a yacht?
Linda: No, is it wonderful?
Arthur: It doesn't suck.


It also won an Oscar for Best Original Song.

Christopher Cross - Arthur's Theme (Best that you can do)

*Note* B Harris has tried to emulate this man's looks and sweet falsetto stylings since adolescence.

New Outfit.

B Harris is all smiles in his new outfit.

Top Drawer

As the title suggests, here is a compilation of goals scored in the past several months, all of which are straight out of the top drawer. Absolute class from these boys.

Bonus points for being one of the few compilation videos found online to not feature the worst music of all time. In fact, they did quite well.


me: did you go to the office

B Harris: yea...after getting my oiled changed, having my toilet overflow, then sitting in traffic

me: ha
was it your fault

B Harris: yea, too much TP and wipes
it was a sloppy one

me: well
you should have just used your boxers
that is where it'll end up anyways

B Harris: i'm wearing all-white boxers right now.
talk about living dangerously

me: worst thing for you

B Harris: ever

me: So.
I am going to post that little conversation

Free Live Shows Aren't Terrible

With the exception of the Junkies, I’m not too keen on talk radio. So imagine my surprise when I stumbled across a wonderful concert link on the mother of all talk radio web pages. The link I refer to is NPR’s All Songs Considered, which describes itself as follows:

“All Songs Considered is the place to discover music. The acclaimed weekly program – available as streaming audio, a podcast and a broadcast – melds contemporary music, live concerts, videos and artist interviews to offer a truly eclectic music mix.”

It’s awesome and you should check it out. Below are some of my favorites:

Radiohead. Not much of an intro needed for these guys. As anticipated, a lot of the set list comes from In Rainbows, while they sprinkle on some older stuff to mix it up a touch. Great concert.

Okkervil River. As my friend PK says, it took me forever to get into this band because of how stupid their name is. I just didn’t want to. But finally I caved and boy, do I not regret it.

Kings of Leon. This best part of this show is that the recording takes place in the summer of 2005, right after the release of their sophomore effort, Aha Shake Heartbreak. This leads to over an hour of true, vintage KoL – before the naysayers cried “Sell Outs!” (which I find to be loads and loads of horseshit, by the way. If a band decides to alter their direction, and play the larger venues they’ve always dreamed of playing, that’s their prerogative. That said, it kind of sucks to see them on MTV. Oh well).

Spoon. These four guys from Austin, TX just put on a helluva show – 90 minutes of gems from their recently-released Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga (worst album title ever, or is it so bad that it blows your mind?), and past albums like Gimme Fiction, Series of Sneaks, Kill the Moonlight, etc. My man-crush on this bad is no secret, and this show justifies it nicely.

My Morning Jacket. For a band that has built the majority of its reputation by being one of the best live acts around (rocking so hard that your face will crap out of your ears doesn’t hurt, either), this recording from Austin’s SXSW does nothing but solidify that notion.

Vampire Weekend. You’ll scarcely find a more hyped band than these guys, who drew the ire of many by skyrocketing to fame shortly after their self-titled debut album. Unfortunately for the haters, it was just really effing good. Paul Simon’s Graceland and blah blah blah – very catchy hooks, creative melodies, and a host of other things you don’t run into particularly often make for a terrific effort on their part. Curious to see how these Columbia-educated lads respond to everyone and their mother showering them with praise for the past year. In any event, this is their SXSW show.

The Hold Steady. When Craig Finn sings (perhaps the term “singing” is being a bit generous), I want to drink. It doesn’t hurt that the majority of the songs center around drinking with friends, the Minnesota Twins, and a tad more drinking with friends. They rock. Especially in this 9:30 Club performance.

The National. A very nice show from the Brooklyn-based quintet, featuring mainly songs from their latest two albums, Boxer and Alligator.

The Arcade Fire. “Arcade Fire, bro! Arcade Fire!!!!” (head explodes)

Now, let me preface this by saying that I think the Arcade Fire are terribly, terribly overrated. Never has a band been sucked off harder than this gaggle of Canadians (French-Canadians, at that. Eesh.). All that said, they are a good, original band. I just never have understood the absurd fuss that is generated over them. Can’t win ‘em all, I suppose.

This is by no means a comprehensive listing, obviously. It is just a sample of some of the acts that I’ve found myself listening to on several occasions. For $0 American. I highly suggest you check it out and discover some new music while you fill out that spreadsheet or do whatever the hell is that you do.

Zinn Article

Howard Zinn is the author of A People's History of the United States. This is an article that he did with Al Jazeera back in September. While I certainly don't agree with everything he says, he does bring up some pretty interesting points.

Here is a link to the article.

I like his last answer the most.


More Best Of...

I remembered this one. It might be my favorite.

Do you want to cyber?

With this one, the title says it all.

Bad Beyond Belief

If you were ever to find yourself in the most unfortunate position of being a passenger in Cheeze’s automobile, several things would strike you as odd. First, the bumper sticker that is featured prominently on his rear windshield – I’d Rather Be Casting a Level-IV Demon Spell. Next, the music. Oh dear, the music. In all the years I’ve known Cheeze, there have been but two general CD’s on a constant rotation in his car’s player. The first is any given “Now: That’s What I Call Music! Volume (Insert any number between 1 – 436)” or Limp Bizkit.

Would you listen to a “band” that was fronted by this man?

If the answer is yes, then I probably hate you. Scratch that. I do, in fact, hate you and hope for a case of back-acne so severe, the purveyor
s of ProActiv would cringe at the sight of you.

You know who isn’t the worst (
aside from nearly every other band on the planet, in comparison)? Spoon. And to prove it, have a listen.

Also, amazing goals are very much not the worst. Here is Mario Stanic of Chelski with a moment of brilliance in 2000 against West Ham. As the commentator said – not a bad way to find the back of the net on your Premiership debut. A wonder-strike, to be sure.

And the winner is...

I had a relatively good couple of days at the racetrack/casino over the weekend. I am not exactly sure what I want to buy. I was hoping you all could help.

It is between three things.

Option 1:


Option 2:

Pony for me

Option 3:

Pony suit for B Harris

What do you think?


Tip o' the week

This weeks tip is brought to you by an old favorite of mine, Iambetterthanyou.com.

I suggest trying this out tonight or tomorrow night.

Quick Thinking

Your friend recently bought a new shirt and is receiving compliments on it left and right. A solution to the problem is to “accidentally” spill your drink all over him. If he cannot change, point out to everyone how stupid he looks with a stained shirt. If he can change, take the opportunity to say how awful his new shirt looks. Either way, you shake his confidence, and get everyone refocused on the fact that you are better than he is.

Have a good weekend everyone.

Happy Friday Tunes

Enjoy the weekend. If you see Cheeze out and about, punch him in his stupid face.

The Hold Steady - Stay Positive

Frightened Rabbit - Heads Roll Off

King of the Butt Cut

I give you Brendan Fraser. Not Frasier, mind you, Fraser.

Aside from being Cheeze’s personal style hero, Brendan has made quite a living starring in some of the worst films of all time. That is not hyperbole – I wish it were. Place some form of protection over your keyboard to prevent vomit damage and have a butcher’s at the below list.

Encino Man
Son in Law
In the Army Now
George of the Jungle
Blast from the Past
The Mummy
Dudley Do-Right
The Mummy Returns
Journey to the Center of the Earth
The Mummy: Why Did We Make a Third Installment?

To get the bad taste out of my mouth just from typing those vile creations, I’ll be forced to watch this video. You should do the same.

"The Office" Pranks - Best Of

I'll take five.

If you have the misfortune of knowing the authors of this blog, you are aware that 50% of us are ninnies.

This is probably a verbatim conversation from the other night or pretty much any weekend:

Lance: "Well, Cutie-Pie, what would you like to drink?"

B Harris: "I'll have a sugar plum fairy shot, a Zima and some more sugar, if you catch my drift." (smooching ensues)

The other 50% percent likes to order like this: "I'll take 5 Guinness Slammers and a Shirley Temple, please."

You all, being part mongoloid, most likely have never enjoyed the greatness that is a Guinness Slammer. It is 25% OJ, 70% Guinness and 5% Amaretto. First, you have the Orange Juice on the bottom, and then layered on top is the Guinness. Finish it off with some Amaretto and you are ready to proceed. It is meant, as the name infers, to be slammed, chugged, slugged down all at once. No sipping here. It is delicious. I used the paint application on my computer to draw you an accurate representation.

I dare you to order one the next time you are out, unless you are trying not to have fun. You will not be disappointed.

Evidence: Rudy: oh yes i miss the nights of guinness slammers, i haven't had one in months, i think i will order one this weekend.

This is Sports Journalism?

I do enjoy ESPN’s Bottom Line, especially their newest feature, The Lead, which depicts the top stories of the day in 6-8 word snippets. Much to my chagrin, the “top” story a few days ago was the following:

“Romo Vows to be Better Leader”

I don’t even know where to begin, frankly. That isn’t a sports story, I’m sorry to say. Particularly not one in January, about a quarterback whose team failed to make the playoffs after some of the loftiest expectations in the NFC. Todd Archer, the Dallas Morning News reporter who penned this landmark piece, should seriously consider touring the amateur tiddlywinks circuit over sports journalism.

What’s next, I wonder?

Rookie Flacco Considers Switching to Two-Ply After AFC Championship Loss

Pittsburgh, PA – With head in hands in the visitor locker room below the hostile confines of Heinz Field, all Joe Flacco could do was second-guess. Following the Baltimore Ravens defeat at the hands of the surging Pittsburgh Steelers, the young quarterback was asked the biggest factor in the game. The four sacks given up by his usually-reliable offensive line? The three costly interceptions, including one that was returned 40 yards for a touchdown by All-Pro safety Troy Polamalu? The crowd noise? According the Flacco, none of the above.

“The cheap (expletive) toilet paper that my girlfriend bought,” confessed the rookie with no shortage of emotion. “This is twice now that she has gotten that tissue-paper thin stuff, man. I haven’t been able to sit down comfortably in two weeks. It played a huge role in today’s outcome, no question about it.”

His teammates seemed to agree: “Joe just didn’t look at ease during the game, at any point,” mentioned veteran receiver Derrick Mason. “He was constantly scratching himself and wincing in the huddle. That ain’t what you want from your field leader, you know?”

It is unclear what brand of toilet paper was purchased by Flacco’s live-in girlfriend to stock their one bedroom, Inner Harbor apartment in downtown Baltimore. One thing is certain, however: those sandpaper squares may well have cost the Ravens a trip to Tampa.

“I promise you this,” pledged Flacco, “we’ll be back next year, and I’ll be having a talk with Christina.”

Green Team! & Funny Japanese Men

Evidently we can only post videos that feature acclaimed actor John C. Reilly is ridiculous character. And frankly, I'm all for it.

"My mom keeps calling me, asking if I'm gay. I don't think I'm gay..."

You'll do well to find a more ridiculous video than the following. The premise - Japanese guys playing soccer with binoculars affixed to their domes. Hilarity ensues.

I love it.


Sweet Berry Wine

More from Dr. Steve Brule.

Sweet Sassy Molassey

There are standard male reproductive organs. Then there are grapefruit-sized, alter your walk, elephantiasis-stricken testes. Surely these lads have custom-made undergarments to accommodate their extraordinary nether regions.

Wingsuit Base Jumping

I usually take the stairs to my office on the 5th floor, which frequently leads to nosebleeds, urine trickling down my pant leg, and bouts of altitude sickness.

Video from KRod


Jerry, Am I a Hipster Doofus?

Good morning Ladies and Gents,

Quick Quiz.

Do you have greasy hair and/or a stupid haircut? Example

Do you own one or multiple vintage, oddly-colored jackets? Example

At this moment, do you have on lame glasses, with or without a reason? Example

Are you wearing jeans that are, or appear to be, made for girls? Example

Do you regularly sport a crappy watch? Example

Do you have bad facial hair? Example

Do you eat only organic foodstuffs? Example

Do you wear stupid hats? Example below

Do you have an affinity for old, dirty, smelly, ugly shoes? Example

Do you buy shirts like this? Example

Do you like stupid sweaters for every occasion? Example below

I would say if you answered yes to more than 5 or 6 of the questions, then you may be a hipster and consequently the worst. Please vacate this site immediately, we don't cater to your kind.

It is not the material oddities listed above that make a hipster intolerable, I could stomach that stuff in small doses. It is the character traits and opinions that ooze from their entire being that are vomit-inducing. Without question, everything they hold dear or in high regard involuntarily translates into what is right and good. They claim to be independent and individualistic, yet are so eerily similar to each other that it makes me ill. They will defend/fight/embrace a cause without even knowing what they are standing up for/against. They claim to abhor convention yet are conformists to their own culture.

Hey, I don't mind if you are opinionated. Be freethinking and unconventional. Be crazy, be outlandish. Be plain old f-ing weird. But at least be yourself and make it your own. Be original.


AU Staff

Music Fix

A tip of the cap to all those of you who have viewed and hopefully enjoyed the site thus far. If it weren't for our distaste of so many things in this life, it wouldn't be possible.

As a treat, enjoy some good music accompanied by video. And by all means, keep checking the site often and telling all your friends that have reasonable senses of humor - no simpletons allowed.

Fleet Foxes – He Doesn’t Know Why

Vampire Weekend – M79 (with a Julliard-trained string trio)

Okkervil River – Okkervil River Song

Word Play

Made up words are often enjoyable. They also have the potential to be rather obnoxious when lacking the necessary creativity to be considered a proper neologism.

As a for instance:

Rick: “Trevor, man, I totally dig that fauxhawk! I saw a picture of one just like that in my local HairCuttery!”
(high five into secret handshake)

You can see how lame it can be. Thankfully, these are considerably less so.

The Washington Post has published the winning submissions to its yearly neologism contest, in which readers are asked to supply alternate meanings for common words. The winners are:

Coffee (n.): the person upon whom one coughs.
Flabbergasted (adj.), appalled over how much weight you have gained.
Abdicate (v.), to give up all hope of ever having a flat stomach.
Esplanade (v.), to attempt an explanation while drunk.
Willy-nilly (adj.), impotent.
Negligent (adj.), describes a condition in which you absentmindedly answer the door in your nightgown.
Lymph (v.), to walk with a lisp.
Gargoyle (n.), olive-flavored mouthwash.
Flatulence (n.) emergency vehicle that picks you up after you are run over by a steamroller.
Balderdash (n.), a rapidly receding hairline.
Testicle (n.), a humorous question on an exam.
Rectitude (n.), the formal, dignified bearing adopted by proctologists.
Pokemon (n), a Rastafarian proctologist.
Oyster (n.), a person who sprinkles his conversation with Yiddishisms.
Frisbeetarianism (n.) (back by popular demand):The belief that, when you die, your Soul flies up onto the roof and gets stuck there.
Circumvent (n.), an opening in the front of boxer shorts worn by Jewish men.

The Washington Post's Style Invitational also asked readers to take any word from the dictionary, alter it by adding, subtracting, or changing one letter, and supply a new definition. Here are this year's winners:

Bozone (n.): The substance surrounding stupid people that stops bright ideas from penetrating. The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign of breaking down in the near future.
Foreploy (v): Any misrepresentation about yourself for the purpose of getting laid.
Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period.
Giraffiti (n): Vandalism spray-painted very, very high.
Sarchasm (n): The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn't get it.
Inoculatte (v): To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.
Hipatitis (n): Terminal coolness.
Osteopornosis (n): A degenerate disease.
Karmageddon (n): its like, when everybody is sending off all these really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it's like, a serious bummer.
Decafalon (n.): The grueling event of getting through the day consuming only things that are good for you.
Glibido (v): All talk and no action.
Dopeler effect (n): The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.
Arachnoleptic fit (n.): The frantic dance performed just after you've accidentally walked through a spider web.
Beelzebug (n.): Satan in the form of a mosquito that gets into your bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out.
Caterpallor (n.): The color you turn after finding half a grub in the fruit you're eating.
Ignoranus (n): A person who's both stupid and an asshole.

And finally –Cheeze’s own failed submission:
Inflatuation (n): an obsession with the smell of one's own farts.

I highly suggest using any of these in your everyday vernacular. Extra points for a combination of Cockney and neologism.

A Poem

Alright, I'll say it. Sometimes I like to read a poem or two. I certainly don't prefer sonnets and love poems, but even in those you can really find a gem. Read some Shakespeare. A couple years back, I was introduced to Charles Bukowski and a collection of his poems by a friend. The title of the collection is Love is a Dog from Hell. He seems to me to be a pretty crazy/intense guy, and some of the stuff you find yourself reading is downright vulgar. I enjoy it. The stuff he writes, I assume, speaks to men moreso than women. So here it is. A Man's Poem.

How to be a good writer

By Charles Bukowski

you've got to fuck a great many women
beautiful women
and write a few decent love poems.

and don't worry about age
and/or freshly-arrived talents.

just drink more beer
more and more beer

and attend the racetrack at least once a


and win
if possible

learning to win is hard -
any slob can be a good loser.

and don't forget your Brahms
and your Bach and your

don't overexercise.

sleep until noon.

avoid paying credit cards
or paying for anything on

remember that there isn't a piece of ass
in this world over $50
(in 1977).

and if you have the ability to love
love yourself first
but always be aware of the possibility of
total defeat
whether the reason for that defeat
seems right or wrong -

an early taste of death is not necessarily
a bad thing.

stay out of churches and bars and museums,
and like the spider be
patient -
time is everybody's cross,

all that dross.

stay with the beer.

beer is continuous blood.

a continuous lover.

get a large typewriter
and as the footsteps go up and down
outside your window

hit that thing
hit it hard

make it a heavyweight fight

make it the bull when he first charges in

and remember the old dogs
who fought so well:
Hemingway, Celine, Dostoevsky, Hamsun.

If you think they didn't go crazy
in tiny rooms
just like you're doing now

without women
without food
without hope

then you're not ready.

drink more beer.
there's time.
and if there's not
that's all right


I think it is great. Have a good one.


Newspaper Headlines for the Next Four Years

As Cheeze mentioned below, and as I’m sure you’re more than aware, Tiger Woods will be sworn in as the 44th and first black president of the United States momentarily. Wait. What’s that? Forgive me – Barack Obama will be sworn in.

Given this momentous occasion, change is sure to be ushered in across the landscape of all our lives; nowhere will this be more apparent, however, than in headlines.

A rather tongue-in-cheek view into the future…

Charles Barkley Fires Final-Round 62 to Win Masters.

Popeye's Stock Still On the Rise!

Purple Drink is Country's New Favorite Soda.

Watermelon: The New Cash Crop.

Obama Family Dog Remains Undefeated at Bad Newz Kennels.

Tyler Perry Wins Record 10th Academy Award.

40s: The New Kings of Beer?

Brian Williams to Anchor BET’s Surging "Nightly News."

Middle East Leaders Convene at Local BBQ to Continue Peace Talks.

Basketball Usurps Baseball as National Pastime.

Lebron James Unanimously Voted Mayor of Cleveland.

Audaciously Hoping.

Before all of you good ol' boys get your frilly pink panties all twisted up in a bunch, realize that this isn't going to be a political post. Yet, since today is the inauguration, I wanted to say just one thing. There were a lot of things that were promised to the American people and (to a degree) the rest of the world, during the campaign. Whether B to the Rock can make good on even a percentage of those promises remains to be seen. I hope so, for my sake and for yours.

That being said, I think George W could have been Dr. Steve Brule in a past life. They were at least cousins.

The Griddleman -

Enjoy work or your day off. Bastards.



B Harris is busy with some thing called "work" so I thought I would throw a couple songs out here that you should like.


Arctic Monkeys - Fluorescent Adolescent

KoL - Talihina Sky


Down the Hatch.

The authors of this P.O.S. have a friend, for reasons of anonymity let's call him Mr. Ken McBenzie, that is a well of hidden talent. He can and will, amongst other things, pick up girls that aren't permitted to ride all the rollercoasters; "borrow" your favorite shirt more deftly than a gypsy thief; drunkenly sway like the tallest of trees; and yell nonsensical gibberish at any time of the day, for no reason whatsoever.

His greatest talent of all, however, stems from the fact that he can open his throat wider than Dwight Howard's baby momma. Ken can drink a pint of beer faster than any other person, man or woman, that I have encountered in all my years here on earth. Frankly, it is a privilege to watch. When we were roommates during college, we would go out to parties, and the Ezra, Ira, or Bryan (pick one, they all convey the same idea) in me would become his manager, his bookie. I would find people to bet against him in a chugging contest, and we would reap the benefits. More often than not, lunch on Saturday or Sunday afternoon was free. Paid for by some sad sap that was made to look like a little girl (In a little dress. Little saddle shoes. Little pigtails.) in front of countless onlookers. I have never seen him lose.

For all you naysayers and nonbelievers, here is the proof.

Prepare to be impressed, disgusted, shocked, awed, envious, etc...

Ben- the most amazing beer chugger EVER!

Have a good Monday.

(On a side note, there is a quote from a television show in this post. The first person who posts a comment with the quote and the show that it is from gets an ersatz congratulations.)


Cold Enough for Ya?!

A few things occurred to me a short while ago whilst riding the elevator after lunch. If you’ll indulge me.

Firstly, the notion that I will never equal the riches that Rob Thomas has amassed over the course of his illustrious career struck me with the collective weight of Cheeze’s Lord of the Ring action figures. I would probably equate what he has done musically with the success of CBS’s Two and Half Men, in that both reach levels of ineptitude that are rivaled only by my bitter resentment and paltry jealousy.

Second-of-ly, office culture and norms are beyond ridiculous. Surely this is no ground-breaking revelation, especially given how long businesses, and consequently offices have been around. So for those of you who spend your day wandering about these breeding grounds of unease, allow me to suggest some alternatives. I see no reason why we can’t mix things up and put the onus back on our colleagues to deal with less than comfortable situations.

Without further ado, I present the first of a several part series (or until I run out of ideas)…

“Ways to Make Coworkers Uncomfortable”

The next time you enter the elevator in your office, try to be the last one in – the more crowded, the better. At this point, turn and face everyone else, being sure to make solid, unwavering eye-contract with each person.

If this doesn’t chill the bones of every person in this box of horror, then nothing will. You have done nothing wrong but put forth a congenial, “I’m game for networking!” vibe. Unfortunately, it won’t be met with open arms or smiles – quite the contrary. People will be appalled and unsure what to do next. In fact, I’m confident that at least one person will prematurely exit the elevator prior to their actual floor in order to escape your clutches.

*Related note: Try to engage in the “excuse me” dance with passer-byers as often as possible. It is also imperative to make as many related noises while you struggle to gain access to the length of carpet behind your mate.*


How’s about a song or two to finish out the week? Cheers.

Spoon – I Summon You

Band of Horses – Cigarettes Wedding Bands