Doctor Ken's One Liner

Even if the odds of me being a porno actor are rapidly dwindling as I get older, I think that if I ever had to do some "acting" to make ends meet, I would already have thought up the perfect catch phrase.  Just as I got done spritzing all over whatever/whoever it is that needed a spritz, I would crane my neck back, cup my open hand around the side of my mouth and bellow:

"Clean up on aisle three!"

What do you think, Seven Readers?  You have a porn catch phrase of your own or perhaps a porn actor name for yourself?

You ever feel really depressed and you have no idea why?  It's one thing if you know why, and if that's the case, you can reason yourself through it.  Today there was no particular reason, and I was just stewing in misery for a couple of hours after I got home from work.  When LSD got home, I was a turd for a little while, and then I had to come clean and let her know that I was feeling down.  She wasn't feeling sad, just bored, and she said she needed a project.  I said she should make us some coasters because we need some coasters around this joint.

I don't really do projects these days, so when I feel like that, I need to drink, run, or write.  Tonight I decided to run, and I felt better almost instantly.  During this run, along with curing my depression, I came to these revelations:

1. I'm going to run the Oakland Marathon in March.  I need another race, and I think it would be cool to represent a city like that.  Oak Town!!

2. I don't think I can live anywhere that isn't near a body of water.  Right when I got to the lake part of the jog and saw the skyline, everything got better for me. 

3. There is one other place where I do my best thinking, but I really don't want to share too much about that part of my day.  Who am I kidding, my next post could very well be a Poop Post.

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When I got home from the run, LSD was on her computer looking up ideas for the coaster project.  I'm a lucky man. 

When I was at a concert in the park, there was a group of middle aged folks just in front of us, and one of them had a good buzz on.  I liked him immediately.  He had a Cubs visor on his head of thinning hair, and he had white sun spots on his tanned, leathery face.  As he sipped a cold Goose Island Summer Ale on a hot Chicago night, he said the following:

"This cold beer tastes great, don't it?  Especially when you're an alcoholic."

Another Post About a Damn Dream? Come on?!

Yes, I have done these before, but I promise I will make it funny and brief.

In this dream I'm at the airport with a friend of mine, and we both spot two former NFL players getting ready to fly somewhere together.  We overhear them saying that they are going on a tropical vacation.  One of them is Herschel Walker, and the other one is . . . Herschel Walker.  And this when your dreams can so easily trick you.  I was trying to place the face of the second one, but I had forgotten that I already knew the first was Herschel, so I guess they were just both Herschel?

My friend and I in the dream were wondering if maybe they were gay ex football players because who goes on a tropical vacations with another dude?  I guess it doesn't matter if Herschel and Herschel Clone were gay or not, but I guess people just like to get a scoop on some celebrity gossip.

So, if you have skimmed through this post, and I wouldn't blame you if you did, this is what you need to know, as this was just a dream:

1. I have no information that Herschel Walker is or is not gay.

2. I also am not making any claims that ex NFL running back, Herschel Walker, has a clone.

3. Even if Herschel Walker does have a clone, I have no evidence to support the fact that he takes tropical vacations with his clone.

4. If he and his clone take tropical vacations, that does not necessarily mean that there are any homosexual activities taking place during the course of said vacation.

Herschel Walker

Herschel's Gay Love Clone?

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Anyone have any fun dreams lately that they want to share in the comments or just any thoughts on this dream?
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Toddler Fight Club Tests the Doctor's Joke Limits!

I recently got wind of the Toddler Fight Club story the same way I get all my news: from Facebook.  Apparently some daycare workers made toddlers fight one another for sport.  I quickly wrote a blog post in my head that was full of sick humor, starting off with saying how if the story leaked, someone involved must have broken the first rule of Toddler Fight Club.  The jokes I wrote only got more in depth and sick from there . . .

Then I read the story.  I love kids so I got a little angry and nauseous when I read about these sick individuals doing something so heinous with children they were trusted with taking care of.  I have written about all kinds of things on this rag through out the years, but even I couldn't joke about this one.  I had to scrap the blog post.  

Sorry, readers.  I guess I'm getting soft . . .

How about you?  Any blogs you guys almost wrote or jokes you had to stop yourself from making?

The Liars Are Back!

I'm starting back up my Liars Club blog about funny stuff that I come across in Chicago along with 2 new contributors.  Be sure to come by to find out what the founding Liars have been doing.  Also, we could always use another contributor or two, so if you live or have ever lived in Chicago and would like to be a Liar, send me an email.

Now, I don't like being that guy who gives a link and doesn't provide a proper blog post so here goes:

Today I was telling some other fellas how Jennifer Lopez and Kim Kardashian get a lot of attention for having giant disproportionate butts, but Nicki Manaj doesn't seem to get as much credit for having a rear end that is equally rotund.  This hardly seems fair.

Plus, that Nicki Minaj seems like a nice kid.

Yup.  That's a great deal of ass.

This is also a substantial rump.

But that is a gigantic hind quarters as well, right????

What do you think about all of this, Readers?  Is this a clear case of booty discrimination or something else all together?

2 Quick Theories On Dating . . .

I have this friend, and while I don't see him much these days, largely due to the fact that he has four kids and he's a quantum physicist or something or other, in his day he was quite the party type and mad genius.  Here are two ideas that he had that popped in my head today that I will now share with you, and I hope that they prove useful to you in your endeavors.

1. The thing to do is find a girl with a beautiful face who is a little overweight.  What's that?  You don't like the heavy types?  Just fuck her thin!  Okay, yes, it's a little crass, but this was a long time ago . . .

2. Any time you are nervous about talking to a pretty girl, just remember, even she poops, and sometimes . . . . Sometimes!  She has has diarrhea. 

Shut Up and Play Your Guitar

Dave Mustaine of Megadeth just said during one of his concerts that he believes President Obama staged all these mass killing in the last few weeks in an agenda to pass a gun ban.  Wow.  What an idiot!

I had a feeling when I heard this news that this would make me hate his music.  I know when Kramer had his n-word rant after being heckled, I was worried I would never be able to watch "Seinfeld" in the same way again.  The years have passed, and just yesterday I saw the "Pig Man" episode and was laughing my ass off and marveling at what a damn genius he was.  Time heals all woulds.

Then this morning on my bike ride to work, just after hearing about Dave's idiotic diatribe, "Tornado of Souls" by Megadeth came on random on my iPod.  I didn't turn it off.  In fact, I head banged along the lake front as hard as ever.  When you rock that hard and fast, the wounds heal even faster . .

My sister told me a story about a guy at a bar trying to hit on her, and he said he was a chemical engineer.  She is a pretty smart one, so she was able to sniff out that this guy was full of doodie.  All she did was ask him what the first element was on the periodic table, and the guy had nothing to say.

Now, come on.  If you're going to make up a lie about something, pick something that you at least have a little bit of base knowledge in so that you can riff some b.s. for at least a minute or two.

I once knew a guy who would tell girls that he was a NASCAR driver in the hopes that women would not know enough about it to ask too many specific questions.

Anyone ever do this or bust a guy doing it like my sis?

Dear Doctor Part One

I asked readers to send me their problems, preferably sexual ones, and I found this very interesting quandary in my inbox.  Warning: The nature of this letter is a little graphic, and my response, while I believe to be sound advice, is also a little explicit. 

Dear Doctor,

My boyfriend likes to do vaginal "fisting" with me, which is putting his entire hand up inside my pussy. We both reach another state of consciousness when he does this, so we really enjoy it. He uses a latex glove and lubricant so his hand will fit all the way up my c-word* without a lot of struggling. But after he does this, I notice his latex glove has blood on it when he takes his hand out of my pussy. And my c-word** is sore for a good week after fisting. Is it safe for him to fist my pussy even though there's blood and pain when he's done? We don't want to give up fisting because we get such a high off of it, however, it concerns me that he could be damaging my pussy.

Sincerely,

Anonymous

*Only she really used the "c-word."
**And again here.    
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Dear Two Pickets to Fisttburgh,

This certainly is problem.  On the one hand, you have bleeding, tearing, and possibly damage to your vagina that could last a lifetime.  On the other side, the two of you are somehow achieving an altered state of consciousness through your fisting love, and this is simply too important a discovery to quit now.  You mentioned that you are sore for a week after, so perhaps the two of you can experiment with achieving nirvana on earth just once a week.  

It's possible, however unlikely, that the union of his fist and your cooter have created a flux capacitor.  Now it's just a matter of fisting while traveling at 88 miles an hour, and then maybe you could do what I thought until now was impossible: fisting time travel!  I know, this sounds dangerous, so I do advise that you have a friend do the driving for the two of you.  As for the lubricants and latex gloves that you mentioned, I think those will make the experience less organic, so better leave those at home when you embark on your time travel journey.  Good luck, and on behalf of all my readers and anyone who supports the sciences, we thank you.

P.S. Try not to change anything in the past when you travel through time, as this can have disastrous affects upon the future.  For example, the very sight of the two of you fisting away like that in any time period is pretty memorable and possibly traumatic to people in just about any time period, so you might want to pick a remote location to when you attempt fisting time travel.   

 

Email Me at Thegancer@yahoo.com . . .

. . . And I will give you advice that may or may not be horrible, but it will likely be funny.  I never get email at that account, and I've managed to block all the penis growth ones, so now every time I check it says I have no mail.  Not even the penis ones.

So, email me a dilemma that you have in your life, and I will provide you with sage-like advice based on my limited understanding of the use of common sense.  And, of course, I won't use your real name.

If you need sex advice, that will be even more fun.  I've been called "just okay" at sex by 10's of women, so I'm pretty qualified. 

I'm not sure if I told you guys, but I broke a finger playing kickball (yeah, the recess game), and I had to have surgery, like actual surgery where they put me under.  I just got the bill from Swedish Covenant: Over $2,000!  It costed 10,000 and my insurance picked up 8,000.  Why didn't someone tell me how much it would cost?  If I knew it was going to be that bad, I would have left my deformed finger, enjoyed playing volleyball all summer, and saved a bundle of cash.

And I just splurged on a really expensive mattress so that LSD and I can enjoy a fancy hotel bed experience every night. That and my shitty little apartment is insanely over priced because of the neighborhood it's in.

This means my life of not going out and being a hermit crab begins, so that could mean more blog updates and maybe even a short story or two.

That is my bitching session.  I try to stay positive and keep in mind that there are people a lot worse off in the world, but few of them are quite as stupid.

Tasty Beers and Random-Ass Conversation

My good friend, LaFontaine, and I stopped into a new Brewery to review their beers.  Actually, he has knowledge of beers and has a site where he rates them, and my specialty is more in the area of engaging and notating the "Random Conversation" where I will relay to you what goofy things were discussed at the time we drank each one.  I'll give my "Impressions" of the beers too, but you'll want to go by Lafontaine's page for a more in depth analysis of that sort of thing if you are a beer enthusiast.

Atlas Golden Ale
Impressions: "Is this one flat?"
Random Conversation: LaFontaine and I were talking about a professional wrestling party that I am throwing soon, and he had to admit that, due to being a Black guy, he will have to go as Junkyard Dog with a giant chain around his neck and "thump" written on his ass.  We also decided that girls would need a whole other theme because we couldn't have 14 Miss Elizabeth's walking around up in that piece.

Demeter Belgian Wheat
Impressions: "I always like the wheaty ones better."

Random Conversation: I pointed out that LaFontaine didn't notice that I had grown out stupid-looking mutton chops this summer.  He said that he noticed them, but he didn't think I was looking for commentary on them.

Brother Mauro
Impressions: "This one says it has lychee aromas in it.  Who could give a beer a sniff and discern that it smells like a fruit I've barely heard of?"

Random Conversation: The men's gymnastics were on in the Olympics, and LaFontaine and I decided that if you show us a man who is good at the pommel horse, we will show you a man who has racked his craw dads horribly and painfully over-and-over again when he started doing it.  

Nalad Summer Belgian IPA
Impressions: "Citrusy!  Sunny Delight should make a beer.  Maybe it could come in the same bottle shape, only a 12 oz version!"

Random Conversation: I was telling LaFontaine how I had a dream that my girlfriend and I were staying at a hotel in Idaho for whatever reason, and she killed a couple people.  I remember that she had her reasons, and while I thought killing them was a little drastic, I was on board for helping her get away with it.  We paid with a credit card, which had me worried that if they found the bodies, police would have our names to use as a list of suspects.  Then I was trying to convince her that we should drive our asses to Mexico.  I asked LaFontaine what this dream might mean, but he said he stopped listening midway through and again marveled at how those gymnastics kids don't bang their testicles on that pommel horse.  

Diversey Pale Ale
Impressions: "Creamy!  Remember Creamsicles?  Was there a difference between those and Dreamsicles?"

Random Conversation: At this point LaFontaine and I were trying to decide which bar to watch The Bears this football season.  For me, whether or not they played "Bear Down" after a touchdown was a biggy, while beer selection was a deciding factor for him.  I'm confident that through perseverance, we can come to a peaceful resolution.  I have a dream - sicle . . . 

Hyperion Double IPA
Impressions: "I hate the hoppy ones, but shouldn't this be hoppier if it's double the IPA because IPA's are always the hoppy as heck ones that dry my whole mouth out?"

Random Conversation: I pointed out that LaFontaine's stuffy nose didn't sound as bad as when he came in, and we were thinking that if beer cured the common cold, Chicagoans would never have the slightest sniffle.  

Deep End Stout
Impressions: "This one is like drinking a steak!"  

Random Conversation: We were talking about DSL's, which is a crude acronym for women's lips, if you must know, and he was trying to convince me that NFL sideline reporter, Pam Oliver, was fine as hell in the 1980's and had some really nice DSL's.  I looked it up, and it wasn't easy to find a picture back far enough to convince me, but ultimately, he's right!  Thank you, google images.  

1871 Smoked Porter
Impressions: "I didn't care for this one at first, but the more I drink, the more it's my favorite one.  It's a grower, not a shower."  

Random Conversation: LaFontaine at this time mixed 2/3 of the Deep End Stout with 1/3 of the Double IPA, and we both loved it.  Two of the guys who worked there dug it too, and one of them had to admit, "I think you guys just discovered our best beer . . ."  Yes!  We are alchemists.  I then got a whole pint of the LaFontaine Blend, and then "sampled" (read "chugged") way too many Bud Lights with my buddy, Oates.  

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Again, swing by LaFontaine's page if you're curious what all these things actually tasted like, and I did another one of these called Night of the Horrendous Beer Tasting with my other good friend, The Locust, where we drank some of the most vile winter brews under the sun.  

What do you think, readers?  Any beer you could recommend?  Any ones that you would pass up even on the worst Friday of work of your life? 

Do You Cast Film Versions of Books When You Read Them?

I almost always do.  Right now I'm reading "A Long Way Down" by Nick Hornby, the story of four people from different walks of life who meet one New Year's Eve when they are all independently about to jump off a building.  They then forge a friendship/pact and decided to keep meeting.  I checked out if a movie is in the works, and sure enough IMDB reports that it is projected to be released in 2013.

I had casted Avril Lavigne as Jess, the foul mouthed, street savy teenager.  I don't recognize the girl they chose, but he looks about right.  Because it's set in England and Toni Collette always seems to play the roles of mousey, shy, housewife types, it's no wonder that the movie casted the same actress as me for the role of Maureen, the middle-aged woman with a severely disabled son.  


Anyone else ever cast flicks like this?  Any examples?  Also, how come there were no comments on my last post?  Was it because I didn't post in so long or did it just suck?


*Yes I know the font changed midway through this post.  I tried everything I could think of and couldn't get it to straighten out.  Screw it.  It's not like anyone pays me to update this thing.