I really have nothing to say today, but what do you think of this?

My lady and I went out for some Bring Your Own Wine (BYOB) sushi tonight, and on the way home we wanted some dessert.  We stopped into an Italian place hoping to get some flowerless chocolate cake, and when we opened the door, the only people in there were one gay fella who worked there and three friends of his singing show tunes.  He sang to us that they were closed.

His friends urged him to get his ass back into the kitchen to cook us up some dessert, but we didn't want to trouble him - plus he was pretty drunk so he could have badly burned himself.  He did give us a tour, taking my girl by the hand and trying to warm her up (I appreciated the concern).  I told him we could come back in later in the week on Tuesday, but he was admittedly too drunk to enter our reservation into the computer, so he had me do it for him.  On the way out he introduced us to his friends, and for around the 20th time he said how adorable my girlfriend is. 

He said he would give us some free dessert but to be sure to remind him because he was well aware that he would likely be too drunk to remember him.  I'm looking forward to Tuesday.  Better brush up on my show tunes . . .

Tournament of Bad

I have been listening to a Chicago sports radio show that is doing a "Tournament of Bad," which is like March Madness only really crappy things in the world competing against each other in a tournament with people voting for the worst ones that advance through each bracket.  The Final Four were White Crayons, Wet Socks, State of Pennsylvania and No Turn on Red.

I decided to fill out my own bracket.  Here's what I came up with . . .

In the Bob Rohrman Schaumberg Ford bracket, I got No Ketchup on Hot Dogs Militants advancing to the final four, with some very close games against "Neighborhood" Cats and Pageant Moms.

Over in the Tilted Kilt regional I really had some problems because there are so many crappy ones.  Smell of Burnt Popcorn, People Who Still Write Checks, Taking Pics of Your Food are all bad . . . I'm going with The Smell of Burnt Popcorn because that just lingers all day at work.  Such a bonehead move that we all have to smell.

Up in the Townstone Financial section, I gotta say that I like Gym Teachers, Sharing a Hotel on Company Trips, Marathon Runners Who Brag, Self-Thrown B-Day Parties . . . Yeah.  That's the one.  People who throw their own parties are annoying, and even worse are the people who have multiple days, like before the party you go out to dinner and they pick a pricey ass place, or even worse, a tapas style place where everyone passes around tiny little expensive plates that you feel bad eating too much of, so you just have a tiny bite, but all you want to do is eat one entire sausage dish because it's the only one you like . . .

Last but not least we got the Menards bracket where I have Unsalted Nuts, Using the Word "Supposably," and Sporting Event Marriage Proposals all making a good showing, but in the end, Burning the Roof of Your Mouth was just too much for them to handle.

Then in the Final Four . . .

I got No Ketchup on Hotdogs militants edging out Burnt Popcorn smell in a nail biter.

Then I got Self Thrown Birthday Parties beating Burning the Roof of Your Mouth pretty handily.

In the final, Self Thrown Birthday Parties beat up on No Ketchup on Hotdog Militants.

What do you think, Seven Readers?  Anyone want to give me their Final Four in the Tournament of Bad?

Tonight my volleyball team played one of those independent teams where none of the players know each other, and they only had one male player this evening.  And he was old.  Really old, like maybe knocking on 70.

I told a guy on my team that we might want to watch out because would if he took a dip in that pool from "Cocoon?" 

Percy

I went out yesterday for St. Patty's Day with HLP and Jumper, and we ended up at Duffy's, a bar that used to be our hangout when we were the age of the people who still go there.  Sometimes we get feeling drunk and all powerful and invincible and think we need to go back to our old school spots.  Yes, we felt like the chaperones in that joint, but we still had fun.

There used to be a middle aged Black guy at Duffy's who was always wearing a giant white fur coat.  I thought for sure he was a pimp, but Jumper talked to him all the time and got a business card from him.  Turns out he sold those awesome coats, or maybe that was just his front for the IRS and he really was a pimp-daddy.  Who knows.

I got wondering what happened to old Percy, so straight away I asked our waitress, and she said "Who the fuck is Percy?"  I wasn't going to quit there.  I asked a few more folks, and no one had any clue what I was talking about.  I was on the case now, canvassing the joint for information like Columbo.  Jumper Houdini'd out of the bar suddenly, so now it was up to HLP and myself to find Percy's whereabouts.  I thought I had a good lead when I saw a 40-something looking guy who was there by himself trying to mack on the dance floor.  He said he comes in there all the time, and he looked to be around Percy's age, but even he didn't know our furry friend.  Damn it! 

If you have any information leading to tracking down Percy, I'm offering a reward, maybe a fur coat or a vodka Red Bull, but not top shelf, we're talking well here. 

Felony Franks

Did you know there is a place on the south west side of Chicago called Felony Franks where the owner makes it a point to hire people who are ex convicts?  They owner plans on franchising them all over the country with 75% being former inmates.

Being a guy who works with young men coming out of prison, I know how hard it is for them to get a job.  Many of us are able to click "no" when an application asks if we've ever been convicted of a felony, but wouldn't that be a bitch if you had to check yes?  I have seen some kids who can't find a job anywhere, and though they wish there was another way, they go right back into "the game" that got them in trouble to begin with. 

You can get a "Misdemeanor Wiener" at Felony Franks 7 days a week.   I think I may check it out soon, Seven Readers.  Make mine charred with celery salt, sweet peppers, and tomatoes on a poppy seed bun with cheese fries and a Coke.  And a convict.

Smokin' Hot First Ladies! Owwww!

I noticed last night that I had bookmarked an online article from Men's Health entitled "Hottest First Ladies," and I had planned on blogging about it, so here goes. 

Helen “Nellie” Taft (1909-1913)

 Get a load of this piece of ass, huh?  Did you know that Taft was also the all time fattest president (he once got stuck in his bathtub), so ol' Helen was also a bit of a chubby chaser.

Grace Coolidge (1923-1929)

Apparently Coolidge was a boring dude, but his wife was a lot of fun.  It says she loved baseball and even spent a lot of time in the Red Sox dugout.  It didn't say anything about what she was doing with the ballplayers in the dugout, but I think they were kissing her on the strikes and she was kissing them on the balls. 

Martha Washington (1789-1787)

 A painting?  What a rip-off!  I can't really tell if she's hot from a painting, and what's worse, I can't tell if she has a nice booty either with that giant, poofy dress.  Still, remember George never told a lie?  It was said that Martha's dad confronted a young George who had just been shtupping her.  George said, "I cannot tell a lie.  I popped her cherry."  True story.  Look it up. 

Betty Ford (1974-1977)

 Here we see Betty Ford playing field hockey, probably drunk off her ass.  That's right, she was the alcoholic first lady who later founded the Betty Ford Clinic when she cleaned up.  And got boring.  

Michelle Obama (2009-)

You have to admit that she's pretty fine.  And fit!  I think she'd beat me in arm wrestling.

Jacqueline Kennedy (1961-1963)

 Okay, game over!  Put your stupid paintings away because no First Lady has come even close to this fine.  When I typed "First" just then, I accidentally wrote "Fist," so that goes to show you where my mind goes when I see this picture.  Then we have the nude ones . . . 

These were the pictures famously published by Hustler magazine.  I really can't come up with a funnier caption than the one used where I found these pics online: " As you can see, even though she was a lifelong Democrat, she still supported bush."  

Okay, that's it, Seven Readers.  Who do you vote for?  Any write-ins?  Cast a vote.  For America.

Here's What Have I Learned About Slash and G N' R from Reading the Slash Autobiography . . .

1. Slash met David Geffen many times as a little kid through his parents.  Geffen would sign him years later without knowing at first that he knew Slash.

2. Slash's mom was dating/sleeping with David Bowie for quite a while.

3. When Guns were on the club circuit, they had a tiny studio space they rented and built a bunk to sleep in.  One night, Izzy and Slash were in the same bunk taking turns sleeping with a girl, and Izzy shot a load on Slash's leg on accident, prompting Slash to say, "We gotta get a bigger place, man."

4. Drummer Steven Adler was living with a Swedish porn actress who was very "accommodating," and the two and Slash would have "terrific threesomes."

5. Slash got busted in a car with a friend who had a needle on him, and he had to go to jail.  He spent three days in county suffering through cold turkey heroin withdrawals before Axl bailed him out.  It was only later that he found out the charge was for an unpaid jaywalking ticket.

6. Duff lived next door to Sly from Sly and the Family Stone who would come by to use Duff's bathroom.  He would be in Duff's bathroom anywhere from 5 minutes to 2 hours doing PCP and all sorts of other drugs and then just left.

7. Slash was given his nickname by actor and family friend Seymore Cassel who said he was "always in a hurry, zipping around from one thing to another."

8. There.  Now you probably don't have to read the book.  It has a couple of great stories, but it's not nearly as entertaining as Ozzy.  Go read that.  You'll find he is just about the funniest guy alive, musician or otherwise.  Actually, I lent it to my neighbor, and I better damn well get it back, as I plan to reread it some day.

This Big Goober Can't Read for Shit

 Get a look at this video.  This is a clip of some DJ's making fun of Tyler Hansbrough from the Pacers trying to read "Chicken Little" to some kids in Indiana.  HLP (Heterosexual Life Partner) told me about this thing over some beers and Zubaz, and watching it today for the first time, I laughed so hard that I nearly shot Mountain Dew out of my noes, which is weird because I haven't done the Dew in years.  Here's some things that are awesome about this chronological order (be sure to turn off the music player on the right before hitting play).

1. Ironically, In the first line of the story he says that Chicken Little was not the brightest chicken in the coop. 

2. He says "a corn fell," but it's "acorn."  Wow.  You dumb-dumb!!!

3. His reading is so choppy and obviously at around a 5th grade level, so just how in the hell did he attain a bachelors degree from North Carolina University?  I'm quite sure the readings for his Western Civilization class were a little more advanced than "Chicken Little."

4. At 2:04, he messes up "farther" and "further," which would be okay in an interview, but when you're reading it?

5. And then at 3:15, he says "grasps" instead of "gasps."  Good lord, you dumb billy!

6. At 3:50, he says "squashy" instead of "squishy."  I'd like to give him the benefit of the doubt and say that's just the way it's written, but given all his other errors . . .

7: At 4:00, he says "libarian," as in minus the "r."  God, I really hate that tragic error.

8: At 4:10, they play him saying "In-i-anna Pacers," as in minus the "d," a couple times in a row.  This might be where I laughed the hardest because he plays for the damn team in the damn city and can't say it right!

9. I probably wouldn't poke fun at this guy so much because there are lots of people with reading difficulties, but in last night's game against my beloved Bulls, he shoved Brian "The White Mamba" Scalabrine.  There is no need to shove the garbage-time bench player who gets a standing ovation from the crowd just because he's a goofy-looking ginger who barely plays, especially since Hansbrough's illiterate ass was down 20 at the time.  Maybe we have Tyler and White Mamba in a reading contest, live from the "libary." 

's

Watching all these episodes of "The Wire" has given me a new found respect for both undercover cops and successful criminals, and I have decided I would totally suck in a career as either.  But which one would I be suckier at . . .

Detective Kenneth Noisewater: After moving up the ranks of Chicago's parking meter investigation unit, Noisewater was promoted to homicide.  Before he could solve his first case, he was stripped of his gun and his badge, literally.  While canvasing the neighborhood of the scene, he was given a beating, a wedgie, and was stripped down to his undies by 7 minors (pretty young ones too) in the courtyard of a housing project on the West Side.

Kenny "Boo Boo" Noisewater: Kenny started a life of crime at a young age and was in and out of juvenile detention centers for most of his childhood, where the constant scrapes and bruises earned him the nickname of Boo Boo.  On his 18th birthday, he caught a case for trying to pull an ATM machine out of the ground with his pickup truck.  While he was successful at dismounting it, it was heavier than he bargained for, and without an accomplice to lug it into the cab, he attempted to drag it southbound on Western Avenue.  35 calls came into 9-1-1 about some idiot tugging a big box down the street at 35 miles per hour with sparks shooting everywhere.  He plead guilty to theft and 3 other charges and was sentenced to 5 years in Cook County, where he was given a new nickname: Kenny "Stretchy Anus" Noisewater.

Ever Wonder What Would Happen . . .

. . . if the whole world farted at once? 

When you start to type that into google, right when you get to the whole world, it knows where you're going with it.  The first thing that comes up is Yahoo answers, and these are the funniest and most insightful answers.

1. "it would be the funniest end of the planet in the universe, and the aliens would get a right laugh."

• 3 years ago 22% 2 Votes

2. "You'd probably be able to see a green, stinky cloud arise from Earth that could be seen from space. Nasa could contain the gases and do research on our diets.

How could that happen, though? Consider the time zones. Would some be farting in their sleep?

On the other hand, you'd be able to hear a funny and loud noise that would be a lifelong treasure if you video taped it. I'd be video taping as I farted...now that's what I call multitasking!"

3 years ago.  11% 1 Vote

3. "After 10 seconds - 1 hour (depends on your farting ability again!) The gases and stuff would go into the atmosphere and a bunch of old scientists with funny moustaches would tell us that we sped up global warming by 1 million years . . . . DAMMIT now we only have 998 million years to go before we all burn alive . . . .

I could be a story teller couldn't I . . . with a failing career and lack of talent . . ."

• 3 years ago.  11% 1 Vote 

 

Personally, all I can think of is "I'd like to teach the whole world to fart.  In perfect harmony . . ."  It's really quite a beautiful exercise in world unity, isn't it?  Should we hold hands in a Hands Across America type deal first? 

So My Girlfriend And I Were Talking About Anal Bleaching . . .

. . . and she found an ad that said "So you want to to make your chocolate spider a vanilla spider."

Uh Oh. I Think I'm Annoying . . .

I saw a story on Yahoo news about annoying habits people have at work, and I'm curious how I stack up.  Let's have a look . . . 

Topping the list among men, 41% are turned off by co-workers' body odor. Nearly as many women think their colleagues could do better in the hygiene department, about 38%. 

I think I'm okay here.  I mean, my odor isn't offensive or anything.  I will say that when I play basketball in the morning, I don't have time to shower so I smell like Axe Body Spray, which is kinda douchey - but not offensive.

Women are most likely to be annoyed when another steals credit for their ideas. This peeve is number one on the list for 41% of all women (and 36% of men). Perhaps because younger employees are less likely to speak up for themselves on the job, 44% of 18-34 year-olds, both men and women, say this is really ticks them off. 

I don't do this at work.  I have, however, been listening to a lot of sports radio lately and pawning off opinions of the radio guys as my own.  Terrible, right?

What's another common complaint? Not surprisingly, given the lack of privacy in most workplaces, about a third of workers (33% of women and 31% of men) are irked by hearing a colleague's loud, personal telephone conversations.

I try not to do a whole lot of this.  To me, that's kind of a no-no.  Wait, maybe I'm not as annoying as I thought . . .

According to the survey, the lunchroom is a minefield of annoying behaviors. Men and women are equally aggrieved when someone swipes their food out of the office refrigerator-27% report this is their biggest complaint. And, if you were thinking of eating that onion pizza or garlicky meatball sub on the job, perhaps you should save it for the weekend. It will seriously gross out 13% of your male and 12% of your female colleagues.

 Come on, man!  Rifling other people's sack lunches out of the fridge?  I don't do that, but I do "borrow" some hot sauce if there is some in there.  I don't like to eat stinky stuff at work.  That's horrible.

I'm very, very annoying at the bar, but I'm okay at work, as it turns out.  At the bar I dance like an idiot, I poke you in the ribs thirty times to tell you something, I scream loudly to stuff I don't even like (see Bon Jovi), I buy the round of gross shots you don't want, and I call you a sissy when you try to go home because I want more drinking buddies around to make me feel a little less like a pathetic loser.

But yeah, at work I'm totally not annoying.  

Crustacean Castration

Actually, more of a vasectomy. Here is an interesting story along with some theories I personally have about lobster penis punishment.

Castrated by Lobsters

This idiot not being able to have kids is good for mankind. Would if we dropped a few live lobsters down the pants of anyone who steals anything. When you're caught, you get tied up for 2 minutes, and we let the lobsters decide your fate. If there is no damage to your genitals, you get off easy with the jail time. If there is significant damage to your junk, you go free, maybe walk a little funny, but no making any baby thieves for you.

I think this is not a bad idea. Actually, how about each offense you have on your record is another lobster down there, thus upping the chances that repeat offending criminals don't procreate! This is the sort of plan that will seem a little strange at first, but you'll thank Dr. Ken generations letter when the lobsters have gradually reduced theft. Also, we should probably mark down the prices of lobsters that have been down all the sweaty thief pants . . .

Drunken Weekend Wrap-Up

Friday Night:

I wanted to stay in to save money and avoid too much boozing, so I settled in with a bottle of wine and some NBA basketball. Just when I was so bored that I couldn't even take it anymore, Oats called me up and told me he was in a cab down the street from my house.

He had some friends in town, and they were a good time. We ended up at a 4AM bar, getting hammered, ordering beef sandwiches at Brothers Beef and watching "Glory."

Saturday Night

I watched my 10-year-old nephew crush in his basketball game. I'm proud of the little ginger.  Kid can ball, son! He's aggressive as hell, like on of the Bad Boys on the '88 Pistons. Then we played Pictionary with the whole family, and it was me, grandpa, and 10-year-old versus sister, grandma, and 6-year-old. We blew a huge lead, largely due to the fact that I couldn't draw a convincing enough bum.

My buddy Guile was in town from the suburbs, so he and I met over at HLP's place for cocktailing and dubstep music, a form of music that I need to get my hands on for workouts. Turns out it's also good boozing music.

The idiots dancing outside the liquor store in this clip are dancing to dubstep stuff.

Anyone ever use the autotone application on their iPhone where you can make stupid T-Pain songs from any phrase you say into the phone, picking from various background music? I made a song called "Does it smell like fish?" based on a now famous statement from an East St. Louis stripper who was smoking a cigarette on stage. And not with her mouth . . .

Then we went to Liars Club where I moshed around the room to the Misfits in a Randy "Macho Man" Savage mask that was inexplicably but thankfully at the bar.

Then back at Oats place with Brothers Beef again, only this time watching "28 Days Later," my favorite art house zombie flick, Oats heeded a 4AM booty call. He came home the next morning, already late for work, to find me sleeping in his bed with my shoes on.

Sunday

I stayed in all day and watched City of God with two Italian beef sandwiches, and it only just now dawned on me that they were my 3rd and 4th of the weekend, not to mention like 25 beers. I need some of that dubstep shit and a heavy workout today . . .

The Biz VS The Ken

Here's a text message conversation between myself and my good friend, Big Business, with topics ranging from the Chicago Bulls, cheerleaders, balls, and all kinds of other great stuff.

Dr. Ken: Watching the game online. Lovables r all grenades. They make up for their thunder thighs with their beat faces.

The Lovables are the Bulls cheerleaders.

Big Bizznazz: No. I like chunky chicks a lil' bit.

DK: I suppose I like them the way they r. That is just a little Midwest winter weight. I'd cuddle them all.

BB: Chubby ones tend to pay more attention to ball than skinny ones. Maybe the heavy ones feel like they have to?

BB: Like they sit and listen to their skinny friends say shit about not touching their boyfriend's nuts, and they figure if they do, they can get guys cuz skinny chicks aren't paying attention to the balls.



DK: Most attention to balls seems fleeting, just to say they did it, but I really like the ones out there who love a good bean bag.

BB: Oh yeah. The ones that treat it's a waffle cone and ice cream is dripping out of it.

BB: Like they move the wang out of the way just to get to the balls. Now, that's dedication to the balls.

DK: Haha! These girls got a lot of ass in those shorts. Like you can pull the shorts down slow and booty pops out of there like a magician's flowers.

BB: They're chunky, indeed. Like you can hear the shorts come off.

DK: Big Sexy used to pork 2 in the showers nightly. Both Bulls bigs had 15 or 16 boards.

Kurt "Big Sexy" Thomas played for the Bulls last season (seen below).

BB: Yeah. Double doubles are in recognition of the cheerleaders' behinds.

DK: Haha! In remembrance of Big Sexy's postgame shower ritual.

DK: He has Old Spice ejaculate.

BB: Big Sexy definitely ejaculates solid deodorant sticks.

This last part of the convo gets a little weird, but I know I laughed my ass off.

L.A. Recap

As some of you know, my girlfriend, the lovely Miss LSD, is living in Los Angeles for 2 years while going to graduate school. We had a monthly visit in L.A. over the weekend, and here's what I learned: I love my lady, and I love The Rainbow more than any bar outside of Chicago. Lemmy and Ron Jeremy are there almost every night, Lemmy by the bar playing video poker and drinking Jack and Cokes and Ron in his own booth with another booth for his big, old, hairy penis.

On this night, Chuck Zito and Leatherface were in there. Some dude I didn't know said, "Do you want to meet Leatherface?" I thought it a little strange because, while I am a fan of horror movies, I'm not a big enough fan to bother the dude who played Leatherface. Too late, the guy had already motioned for me to follow him. When we get to Leatherface's table, he is huge, standing around 6'6", but he looks way younger than he should be. I shook his hand and told him how much I loved his work, especially when he plunks that poor guy in the head with the hammer. He muttered to the friend that introduced me something to the effect of "What are you my publicist?," and turned around back to his friends. I said that he didn't seem too friendly, and the guy that brought me back there said, "Yeah. We don't really get along." Then why in the hell did you drag me back here to meet this big jerk? And it wasn't even the original Leatherface. It was the one in the remake and the same dude who played Lattimer in "The Program." Well, better that I just played it cool and didn't what I really think of him. I mean, have you seen this scene?

Hate F'ing, 2nd and Final Chapter

Well, folks. Below you will find the second half of the Hate F'ing podcast (part one is a couple of posts ago). As a reminder, Hate F'ing is when you sleep with someone out of anger. The way we came up with our totals was have all participants list their submissions, we discussed, and then all entries were voted on by the group to see if they made it through to the finals (the lady needed 3 out of the 4 thumbs up to get through, not counting vote of the person who suggested the name). We then rated each of the 13 finalists one to 13, with the lowest score being the best (sort of like an NFL Confidence Pool) and added up all of our totals.

And here is the master list of most Hate F'able Famous Women in the Free World from last place to first (remember that a low score wins, like golf).

12. Sarah Silverman - 43 points

11. Paula Abdul - 41 points

10. Heidi Moutag - 39 points

9. Jessica Simpson - 37 points

8. Kristen Stewart - 37 points

7. Paris Hilton - 36 points

6. Chelsea Handler 34 points

4th and 5th (tie) Fran Drescher and Miley Cyrus (tied with 33 points

3. Ce'line Dion - 24 points

2. Sarah Palin - 17 points

1. Casey Anthony - 14 points.

Yes, Casey killed her kid, so that gave her a big edge in the hate department, being the only murderer on the list. Still, we congratulate you, Casey. And we hate you, but I'm sure you'll get that painful Hate F'ing or jail time (or both) that you deserve (like O.J.).

Remember, we're not evil, just a bunch of dudes who got together with booze and a bad idea. Also, you have to turn my music player off on my blog to along the right panel before hitting play. If you double click in the MP3, it will download to your iTunes, and if you just hit play, it will just play.

Happy Hate F'ing and Happy Valentines Day, everyone!

I Was Telling My Shrink the Other Day . . .

. . . That I don't like people who aren't funny. That's too strong. I don't dislike them - they're not bad people - I just prefer to surround myself with funny people. I feel no sense of curiosity around the unfunnies as to what might be the next thing they might say when nothing funny ever comes out of them. Maybe they'll give me important tips or advice, but how often does that really happen. Hardly ever, right? So better just to not listen or half-listen.

Then again, crazy is the next best thing to funny. When someone is totally of their nutter, then the do say some interesting stuff, albeit totally insane.

Now, funny with a healthy amount of crazy is really what I like. That's the best of both worlds, and that's pretty much what I am. This is evidence by the fact that I write funny stuff (that's the funny side) and I just said I see a shrink in the title (there you have your crazy).

I just hope I'm as funny as these guys when I'm their age.

Hate F#cking: Part One

Yes, hate f#cking - when you hate someone so much that you want to give them a rough rodgering. I hope you enjoy this podcast as much as we enjoyed recording it. As always, be sure to pause the music player on the right panel before hitting play. If you want to download it to your iTunes for some interesting conversation during your morning commute, double click where it says MP3, and if you just want to listen here on the blog, just hit the play button. Part 2 will go live in a week or so. Happy hate f#cking, everyone!