Annoying People in the Health Club

The loud grunting/shouting guy- You're a human growth hormone induced muscle-head and you’re trying to dead-lift Antarctica. All the shouting in the world isn’t going to make those weights any easier to lift. . If you strain any harder, the next thing you lift may be your shrunken nuts off the gym floor!

The overweight profuse sweater- You expel as much internal liquid as the Exxon Valdez then refuse to wipe down the treadmill for the next person. If you need the assistance of a cleaning lady after your workout you may want to do one of the following: a) not workout as hard or b) not workout at all.

The flatulent old lady- I appreciate you efforts in working out and all, especially at your advanced age. But, the end point for your leg squats is in close proximity to where my head rests for the bench press and I don’t have an air-freshener headband or a gas-mask handy.

The guy with the shorty shorts - Those tight red Sassoon satin gym shorts may have been all the rage in 1978 at the roller-skating party while The Bee-Gees blared on the speakers above, but your balls have moved south by three decades where the shorts are longer and provide more coverage. It's time for some new gear ASAP!! Nobody came to the gym in the hopes of getting a gander at your graying hairy beanbag… but it happened anyway.

The locker room guy who stays naked a little too long- I don’t mind having a conversation about the stock market; I just don’t want to see what stocks really excite you. Put on some clothes right after your shower Dow Jones!!

The hot chick – You’re wearing skin tight workout clothes and you have a killer body. You know you’re hot, every guy in the gym knows you’re hot. So, when we get caught checking you out, is it necessary for you to yell “Take a picture, it lasts longer you Perv!!” every single time?

The mirror guy - It’s great that you’re happy with the way you look. But do really need to flex after every single rep? You might be able to finish your workout in less than three hours if the gym had no mirrors.

The Elliptical marathon woman- I signed-up for the elliptical an hour ago and you’re still on it with no conceivable ending in sight. Take off the I-Pod, close the Lisa Scottoline paperback, quickly move off the equipment before they charge you a rental fee!!

The Tai Chi guy- You take up valuable floor space perfecting your hand gyrations. I’m not sure this can even be classified as a workout? It looks more like interpretive dance to me. Whatever it is, you sure as hell don’t need to do it in a gym, find a dance floor somewhere.

Yo Adrienne, Tell Dem You was Doin’ Da Steroids!

Actor Sylvester Stallone pleaded guilty to bringing vials of a restricted muscle-building hormone into Australia. Lawyers for the 60-year-old star of the "Rocky" and "Rambo" movies entered the guilty plea on behalf of the actor, who did not appear in the Sydney court room.

I would have loved for Sly to try and defend himself to the Australian judge. That would have been CourtTV at it’s finest. He would taken a worse beating from the judge than he took from Apollo Creed, Clubber Lang, and Ivan Drago combined. “Yo judge I love kangaroos and The Wiggles. Sorry about what happened to Steve Irwin. Russell Crowe is my favorite Australian born actor, besides Paul Hogan. If you do send me to the brink can I serve my time with the women in cellblock H?”

The judge would reply “Mr Stallone it’s apparent those fight scenes weren’t fake after all. Maybe you should have filmed those scenes wearing protective headgear. And just for future reference Russell Crowe was born in New Zealand, not Australia”

Stallone was accused of bringing a banned substance into Australia after a customs search of his luggage during a Feb. 16 visit to Sydney revealed 48 vials of the human growth hormone product, Jintropin.

Apparently Stallone is as dopey as he looks. He was quoted as saying “If I was a kangaroo I could have hidden the drugs in my pouch, then I could’ve kicked the security guards real hard if they tried to search my pouch”

Human growth hormone, a naturally occurring substance that can be replicated synthetically and is used to build muscle mass, is considered a performance enhancing drug in Australia and it cannot be imported without a permit from the national drug regulator, the Therapeutic Goods Administration.

Stallone faces a maximum penalty of a $22,000 fine. Sentencing information was not released, and Stallone's lawyers made no immediately comment. During his visit to Australia, Stallone shrugged off the airport incident. "It was just a minor misunderstanding," Stallone told reporters "They were just doing their jobs. I just didn't understand some of the rules here. But I really didn’t think they had rules here. Wasn’t this place a prison colony? I saw a show about that on the History Channel once, or was it the Disney Channel?”

You Can’t Lick the Postal Service

The price of a stamp is now increased to $0.41 from $0.39 effective today May 14, 2007. I think it’s a good time to start paying the majority of my bills online since the stamp is now official more expensive than the envelope and the paper inside. I wonder what benefit the increase will have. I mean, are we going to see a more robust stamp? I buy my toilet paper two-ply because I like Mexican food and the extra ply is needed to accomplish a proper mop-up. With toilet paper I have an option; I can buy the cheaper single-ply if I wish but I don’t want to change my underwear ten times a day like Frank Sinatra. So, I play it safe and opt for the extra ply and pay a little more. In Frank’s defense, I don’t think they had two-ply back in the day, at least not at the MGM Grand in Las Vegas anyway. To be honest, when I first read about the Sinatra habit, the song Summer Wind made much more sense to me. There’s nothing like a nice warm breeze to keep everything dry.

From a technology perspective I don’t foresee any major changes for the stamp. The major breakthrough happened years ago with the self-adhesive addition. Since then, nothing, zip, nil, nada, and zero. Surely, we can’t still be paying for the self-adhesive discovery? We are not, and don’t call me Surely! The price rises for both self-adhesive and self lick at the same rate, so we pay nothing for the glue, it’s free.

On a personal note, I really enjoy going to the Post Office to buy my stamps and asking the smoking hot girl behind the counter; Tina; to repeat herself after saying “Self-adhesive or self-lick” for the third time but slower while licking her lips. If she ever obliged my twisted request and said it that way I might have made my own self-adhesive. Tina is to postal workers what Lamborghini is to cars, except without the spare tire. It’s not easy getting flagged from a Postal Office, but I did. I guess I should be lucky one of them didn’t shoot me.

No, the stamp hasn’t changed; the service really hasn’t changed, so really I think the price should DECREASE instead of increase. I have a few suggestions on how to make the stamp cheaper. First, let’s not add any new historical figures, or historical places to stamps. This process requires commissioning an artist to perfectly capture the person or place for the new stamp. Because this artist is working for the government he or she will milk this job for all it’s worth. No doubt you’ve heard the term starving artist, there is a reason for this term. The reason is most artists and their art suck. If I have to “interpret” your meaning, that just means you are not that good of an artist. Imagine reading a book and having to interpret the author’s words and meaning. That wouldn’t be a very good book, now would it? So, when this starving artist gets a government job there is no telling what kind of bill they are going to charge Uncle Sam. And Uncle Sam is real good at passing the check at dinner to us, his fellow dining companions. So please no new artwork!

Second suggestion, don’t make colored stamps. Anyone who uses a printer for their business and has to pay for color ink, knows how much more expensive it is than black ink. I don’t need to buy colorful stamps and I could care less about receiving colorful stamps on letters I receive. I never do jumping jacks when receiving a letter with a multi-colored scene depicting Yosemite.

Third suggestion, which if implemented would eliminate the need for the first two. Make everyone buy a small postal weighing machine that meters the mail automatically, the type that businesses have, but a smaller home version. We pay a one time fee, and the machine is replaced every five years or so. They are trying to push this “forever stamp” where you will pay today’s price and that stamp will be good forever. You know they are going to run of these very quickly and I don’t know about you, but I’m not going to badger a postal worker about getting more.

When I was a kid and we’d go to Grandma’s house and use her notebook paper to draw or color on, she would say “You kids need to stop, because that paper don’t grow on trees”. Grandma liked her Scotch, but her heart was in the right place. What Grandma was trying to tell us but too wasted to say was “stop wasting the paper”. It was a good lesson then, and it’s a good lesson now. Just ask Al Gore or Sheryl Crow. If the postal service didn’t have to make as many stamps, the costs of operation would decrease, and there wouldn’t be a need to increase the price of stamps.

A Conversation between President Bush and the Queen

BUSH: Ya know, you got the same name as that big ‘ole ship; Queen Elizabeth II. What are the odds?
QUEEN: That ship was named in my honour

BUSH: Dang! I wish they would name a large vessel after me. I can see “The Dubya” monster truck crushin’ ass at Monster Jam ‘08
QUEEN: One can dream, one can dream

BUSH: Do you mind if I just call you QE2 for short, and you can just me Dubya?
QUEEN: YES, I certainly do mind.

BUSH: My bad Lizzie, my bad
QUEEN: I prefer Queen Elizabeth, or Her Majesty

BUSH: Do you know Queen Latifah?
QUEEN: No.

BUSH: I call her Latifah, or “Tifah”, or just “Q” if I’m chillin’in da hood
QUEEN: I don’t understand what you are saying

BUSH: Don’t feel bad, neither does anyone else in America
QUEEN: I see.

BUSH: I just love your music
QUEEN: Do you mean “God Save the Queen”, the British national anthem?

BUSH: No, I mean “We are the Champions” and “Fat Bottomed Girls”
QUEEN: I am starting to feel rather ill

BUSH: Y’all drive on the wrong side of the road in England
QUEEN: I don’t drive

BUSH: I’ve driven on the wrong side before, I was really piss drunk
QUEEN: That’s abhorrent! You should have used a designated driver

BUSH: It wasn’t abhorrent, it was Absolut….Vodker, and I had a designated driver alright, his name was Jim Beam
QUEEN: It doesn’t seem like this Jim Beam chap was a very good driver if you were on the wrong side of the road.

BUSH: No ma’am, he wasn’t. He steered me in all the wrong directions. It could’ve been worse I could’ve taken a ride from Ted Kennedy.
QUEEN: Jolly good one Dubya, jolly good one!

BUSH: Do you think I could ever visit you on the other side of the pond at Lindsey Buckingham Palace?
QUEEN: I suppose so

BUSH: It’s funny how they call it “the pond”. The Pacific Ocean ain’t no pond!!
QUEEN: You don’t say

BUSH: I can’t wait to see all the Boobies outside the Palace standing upright and firm!
QUEEN: I believe you mean the Bobbies that guard the Palace

BUSH: No ma’am, I mean Boobies. I’m coming over in the summertime. Do you know Heather Mills?
QUEEN: Good heavens!! Your thought process is utterly juvenile!

BUSH: Thanks for the kind words ma’am. I studied real hard in school
QUEEN: God bless America….PLEASE

BUSH: Ya know, I’m sorta like American royalty myself
QUEEN: How do you figure?

BUSH: Well, my daddy was President, my mama looks like George Washington, and back in high school I got a hummer from a teacher who was the spitting image of Camilla Parker-Bowles. Well…. not exactly spitting.
QUEEN: EH GADS!!! I’ve got to get back to England this instant!

Top Ten Paris Hilton Reactions to her Jail Sentence

10. I can do time, if he’s hot

9. Solitary confinement? Is that like a new boutique on Rodeo?

8. Quick somebody find me some orange Jimmy Choo pumps

7. Where’s Ashton? I am sooo being punked right now

6. 45 days? Omigod that’s like a whole month....Whatever

5. You mean bull-dyke is a real person, not a type of cow?

4. What time does the prison salon open? I’m starting to see my roots

3. Only Marriotts do time, tell that Judgy I’m a Hilton

2. Should I join the Crips, the Bloods, or the Aryan Nation?

And the number one Paris Hilton reaction to the jail sentence…
Can the guard reduce my sentence for good oral behavior?

Sheryl, Can You Spare a Square?

The Sheryl Crow “one square down there” theory of last week prompted me to restate my bathroom etiquette rules.

NOTE TO SELF….If I'm lucky enough to ever meet Sheryl under no circumstances whatsoever do I SHAKE HER HAND. Or hands because I don't know if she is a righty or lefty... and I don't mean politically.

As a rule of thumb I think the bathroom should be viewed in the same way as a library. It doesn’t matter if it’s the bathroom at home, the work bathroom, or public restroom. You can read all you wish but strict silence and focus must be maintained at all times.


Apply the following common sense practices at work or in a public restroom:

Don’t ever talk to me when I’m in full lock-down mode perched atop the shitter. I need to focus on the delivery I’m about to drop off and I’m not really looking for a Q&A session about last night’s LOST. Besides, my half of the dialogue would just be grunts and groans anyway.

Speaking of grunts and groans; please keep your volume to a reasonable level. Nobody wants to hear you replicate delivery room audio over there in stall number three. You might want to look into a stool softener.

Never ask me for a high five when I exit the stall, left me wash up and dry first then we can talk about that high-five.

If you see three empty urinals please use the ones at either end. Never use the middle one leaving left and right open. The next guy having to take a leak doesn’t want to go next to you and he’s wondering if you were forced to use the middle urinal because the other two were taken, or if you’re just a weird bastard.

Rule number 4 also applies for stalls, never use the middle. It’s only acceptable to use the middle stall if both the left and right are occupied or were heavily abused by the people before you.

While at the urinal eyes forward at all times, no exceptions.

Never use the following phrases to anyone at the urinal: “Shake it don’t break it”, “How’s it hanging?”, “You shake more than twice you’re playing with it”, or “Is that water cold today?” Your alarming interest in my junk makes for an uncomfortable bathroom experience.

Note for the bathroom attendant at the nightclub: I don’t want a Tic-Tac, condom cologne, gum, or any other dollar store trinket you may be peddling and I can dry my own hands, but thanks for your concern. If you like bathrooms so much go be a plumber’s apprentice.

Home bathroom rules:

If you happen to use the toilet paper down to the bottom please take a few seconds to replace the role for the next person. That 2”x 3” two-ply paper square stuck to the otherwise empty roll isn’t going to help me or even Sheryl Crow close the deal.

If you just took the dump of a lifetime and you feel the toilet is clogged you might want to use that stick thingy next to the toilet, it’s called a plunger.

I tend to leave the seat up, that’s just the way I roll. So what? Why do I need to hear about it time after time after time? Just put it down and save the lecture. I’ve flushed down more than a few panty liners and you never heard jack from me.

Yes, that odor of a decomposed woodland creature came from you. Its okay to spray air freshener as liberally as possible, in fact it’s required.

Lost My Marbles in the Flood

"Daddy my toys are swimming!!” proclaimed my daughter. This would have been a cute moment to remember had the toys been floating atop a swimming pool but not when afloat on four inches of water in the basement. Joining the toys for the synchronized swim were books, pictures, video, CDs, DVDs, and worst of all my new Ping golf clubs.

Of course, the basement was recently finished with newly placed wall to wall carpet. Now it’s just FINISHED. The carpet now has the same odor as my street during the great trash hauler strike back in July ‘04. The mold and mildew are the only two items in the basement that are still fully functional.

I made my way to the front curb hauling rain soaked books; “Looks like somebody got flooded” said Sam, the old retiree neighbor from up the street. They say age brings wisdom, if that’s true Sam must be about 1000 years old because he knows everything about anything. He is quick to offer his unsolicited opinion on a myriad of subjects ranging from lawn care to giving the wife multiple orgasms. “You got a flip it, dig in there, make sure it’s damp, and then flip it again” That was his suggestion about how to properly apply cedar mulch to the garden bed on the front lawn. Or was it his advice to giving the wife multiple orgasms? I don’t remember.

“I guess you didn’t buy the sump pump I recommended, you get what you pay for”, he continued. Isn’t there a bingo game somewhere missing a wise-cracking eighty-two year old know it all?

“I’m dry as a bone, not one drop of water” he added. “Yeah, but what about your basement” I quipped. My attempt at humor was lost on him. My pride tells me to chalk it up his lack of hearing.

He went on tell me about one of his many patented inventions. This time it was a spring loaded latch for a lock and dam system he invented in 1955. He said if it was used in New Orleans during Hurricane Katrina, the damage would have been minimized.

Sure, a fifty year old invention would have slowed one of the greatest natural catastrophes of our time? I think it was time for Sam’s nurse to up the dosage on the daily meds at this point.

“Gotta go Sam, I have a lot of work here” I said, hoping to end this painful exchange. “Alright, next time just listen to me kid, and you won’t find yourself in this mess” he said as he turned to walk away. As I was flipping the bird toward his back the old-timer spun back around with the reflexes of guy a quarter of his age.

“What you are you doing?” he asked. “I have something in my eye” I answered like a coward. Hey, he saw combat in WWII. I only saw combat on PS2. The visual of Bob Barker whipping Adam Sandler’s ass in Happy Gilmore suddenly flashed in my mind.

As fate would have it, I have a $1,000 deductible on my home owner’s policy and by last count about $900 worth of water damage to my belongings. It’s time to rally the troops and throw older valuables in need of upgrade into the basement. I could use a new 45” LCD TV to replace that 10 year-old RCA we inherited from my wife’s Grandma; who died last year, ironically in front of that TV.

She had heart problems and emphysema. She was hooked up to constant oxygen 24/7. She happened to misplace the remote control on the day she died. She had to get out of her chair to change channels, while do so, she pulled the hose from her tank and couldn’t breathe. The paramedics found her on her back with an extended arm reach toward the television. It was Sunday night when she died, no doubt she was trying to find The Sopranos on HBO, it was her favorite show. Every time we watch that TV we think of her, especially when we can’t find the remote.

After multiple trips throughout the house, the basement resembled an eBay warehouse, I threw everything that insurance money could upgrade into the basement. That old Toshiba laptop running Windows98 could use a bath, bring it down to the basement!! Let’s make that Sony PS2 float, it’s time to upgrade to the Nintendo Wii.. This cell phone blows, I want a Blackberry...

But Karma is a bitch, and I guess you could say I got bitch slapped. The claims adjuster from the insurance company smelled something fishy from the start. I didn’t throw any fish in the basement (if I had any I would have).

My mother used to say “What a tangled web we weave when we try to deceive”. Mom is big on cliches. I wish I remembered this nugget of wisdom before I hastily trashed most of our stuff.

To her credit, my wife didn’t want any part of my scam from the beginning. So when the adjuster asked her about the jewelry in the basement she just looked at me with a blank stare. It only got worse from there, not only did we not receive a payment from the insurance company, we were dropped altogether.

I guess the 45” LCD will have to wait.

Rosie O’Donnell Leaving The View to Join The Apprentice

Rosie will leave The View in June after failing to agree on an extended deal with ABC. She is set to ink a multi-year deal with NBC to be a judge on Donald Trump’s The Apprentice.

“She’s a fat, disgusting, stupid, and vile pig, and I wouldn’t hit that with my car if she was straight, but bottom line- she is ratings gold and I really look forward to working with her, Rosie you’re hired!” said Donald Trump.

NBC spokesman Gerald Miller added “We are looking to bolster our female demographic and women audiences love Rosie, and Rosie really, really loves women!”

When asked if NBC is worried about any lingering animosity between O’Donnell and Trump in their long running war of words, Miller said “We gladly anticipate and fully expect venom between Donald and Rosie. Public hostility between celebrities’ equal huge ratings no matter if it’s real or not, look at Simon Cowell and Ryan Seacrest as one example. We view this feud as an untapped area of potential revenue growth. So far, the only areas attacked were Rosie’s weight, and Donald’s hair. Weight Watchers and Just for Men Hair Color already signed on as sponsors for next season. Just wait until Donald and Rosie exploit the multitude of other personal defects each possesses. The sponsorship possibilities are boundless!

Over at The View they don’t seem to be shedding any tears over Rosie’s exodus. “June can’t come fast enough for me! How’s THE VIEW from the unemployment line, Rosie? I can finally go back to being the only loud mouthed New York liberal on the show… and Barbara too of course….sorry boss” said Joy Behar.

“I don’t know how many times I had to tell her, NO means NO!! I like men, and if I ever did decide to go the other way the woman would have to be a Republican and look like me , well, because I’m hot” added Elisabeth Hasselbeck.

When asked to comment, Barbara Walters was tight lipped… thanks to the terrific work of her Manhattan plastic surgeon Dr. Marc Katz. But she did manage to tell us the following; “We weely wanted to work things out with Wosie” as she hopelessly attempted to wink. “But it didn’t happen, so now we need to find a weplacement… Good Widdance Wosie!!... Oh it huwts to laugh”

Alec Baldwin Called My Phone by Mistake

BALDWIN: I want you to know something, okay? And I want to leave a message for you right now because again it’s 10:30 here in New York on a Wednesday and once again I’ve made an ass of myself trying to get to a phone to call you at a specific time....

ME: I watch CSI: NY on Wednesday from 10-11. I don’t answer the phone while great shows are on. You might want to try calling 9PM on Thursdays when your dopey show 30 Rock is on. I don’t know how you’ve “made an ass of yourself trying to get a phone” since the phone is in your pocket right? Did you remove your pants to answer it or something worse?


BALDWIN: When the time comes for me to make the phone call, I stop whatever I'm doing and I go and I make that phone call. At 11 o'clock in the morning in New York and if you don't pick up the phone at 10 o'clock at night. And you don't even have the goddamn phone turned on

ME: By the looks of you, I know you are not jumping off the treadmill to make that 11 AM call.


BALDWIN: I want you to know something, okay? I’m tired of playing this game with you. I’m leaving this message with you to tell you, you have insulted me for the last time.. You don't have the brains or the decency as a human being.

ME: Not really, I could insult you way more and don’t even get me started on your whacked out brothers. You’re the one without the brains, you've been screaming at someone you don’t know for the last five minutes


BALDWIN: I don’t give a damn that you have the mind of a 12 year old or 11 year old child, or that your mother is a thoughtless pain in the ass who doesn’t care about what you do

ME: Please don’t tell Michael Jackson I have the mind of a 12 year old. Okay, so you want to tell mother jokes?? Your mom is like a toilet…she’s white, she’s fat, and she smells like shit!! SNAP


BALDWIN: As far as I’m concerned you’ve insulted me for the last time with this phone

ME: Your right! The phone is so old school. I’d much rather insult you via IM, email, or with a homemade YouTube production


BALDWIN: And when I come out there next week, I'm going to fly out there for the day just to straighten you out on this issue.

ME: What’s the issue again, global warming? I’m stupid, remember.


BALDWIN: I am going to get on a plane and I am going to come out there for the day and I am going to straighten your ass out when I see you. Do you understand me? I'm going to really make sure you get it.

ME: “I’m going to straighten your ass out when I see you” “I’m going to really make sure you get it” Quick question here.. Is your next role in a prison movie by any chance? Just a guess.


BALDWIN: Then I'm going to get on a plane and I'm going to turn around and come home. So you'd better be ready Friday the 20th to meet with me. So I'm going to let you know just how I feel about what a rude little pig you really are. You are a rude, thoughtless little pig, OK?

ME: You know what a inconvenience it is to fly these days, so I think you should just stay put. Besides, Friday the 20th doesn’t really work for me. OK, OK I’m a pig I get it, are we done with this call yet?

We’re Going to Disneyworld (Part III)

I spent the rest of the flight feeling jealous about Big Kurtis’ big lifestyle. I realized I was a bigger loser that I originally thought. Like a good husband I also frequently checked on my wife and kids. They were all doing well.

Toward the end of the flight my wife was in deep conversation with some guy who looked like he just graced the cover of GQ Magazine. They were clinking two glasses of Cheap Airline Chardonnay together as I approached. “Oh hi honey” she said in a giddy and startled tone. “This is Todd” Todd?? What a pussy name I thought to myself. “Hey” he said, as I stood there with an extended hand. He just nodded, no handshake occurred. What a total douche.

Kurtis had kindly offered to switch seats with my wife an hour and half into a two hour flight. “I’m okay” she said. “I’ll just stay here since the flight is going to land soon” she answered glancing over at Todd the douche who smirked his approval.

I married a total whore!

Next I went to see how the kids were doing. They were watching magic tricks performed by a guy with a Mohawk, many tattoos, and multiple piercings, many of which were imbedded in his face. Marbles could fit through holes in his earlobes.

“Daddy this is Razor, he is a magician and a clown” my nine year old daughter explained. “Can he come to my birthday party at the Magic Kingdom?” “Pleeease Daddy”. I’d seen enough, I rounded up the whole crew, I told my wife to put down the wine and switch seats with Kurtis, I told the kids to come with me. “I want to be just like Razor when I grow up, and I want to keep sitting next to him” my seven year old son protested as I pulled him away. “NO, YOU DON’T, I shouted back to him. “Can I get a tattoo at Disney, dad?” he asked. “Keep moving” I answered.

My wife and I placed the kids on our laps. The flight attendants were on us like flies on shit. “Sir, TSA regulations state everyone must have their own seat” one chirped. I wish she was that quick to approach me when I was looking for that second Budweiser. “We will land in approximately fifteen minutes, the children must be seated and belted” she continued.

A nice couple who were seated one row ahead of my kids and Razor had volunteered to let our kids take their seats for the remainder of the flight. The couple had taken a liking to our kids earlier in the flight and didn’t mind the trouble of moving or Razor.

We landed in fantastic sunny Orlando without any further incidents. Of course, our luggage on the other hand decided to catch a connecting flight to Atlanta to check out a Braves game

“Sir, we are terribly sorry for this inconvenience, we will have your bags sent to the hotel as soon as they arrive” As soon as they arrive happened to be two days later...

We’re Going to Disneyworld (Part II)

“Hi I’m Kurtis, with a K not a C” he proudly announced as he hoisted a fat sweaty hand toward me. I was puzzled because he seemed way too friendly to be a business traveler and seemed too old to be going to Disney, at least by himself.

He was as wide as he was tall, had a cheesy mustache and was wearing brown leather suspenders that look liked two belts turned sideways. He had the white trash chain extending from his front pocket to his wallet in the back pocket. His hair was jet black and slicked straight back. He looked like a character in a 1950’s movie, except real fat. I don’t think Americans were fat in the ‘50’s, at least not the ones in the movies.

Poor guy, I thought.

I tried to keep it short; “Hello” I responded and shook his greasy palm. “Sorry about the hand… it's Vaseline” he apologized. “I was in the bathroom during takeoff”. he said. It was at this point I started playing “Which is Worse” in my mind. Did he.. A- Just take a dump and wipe with the hand I just shook? B-Just take a leak with the hand I just shook? Or the worst possible and most likely scenario C-He just rubbed one out at 30,000 feet above sea level?? “I get real nervous on takeoffs and landings” he offered. “I try to do anything possible to relax”. Oh shit, it has to be C, it has to be C I thought to myself.

“My mouth and lips get very dry, and I have uncontrollable diarrhea until the plane is safely in the air, so dry as a bone up top, squirting like a Hershey fountain on the bottom” he quoted from the “To Much Information” book. “So you’ll usually find me in the bathroom before takeoffs and landings, the Vaseline is for the dry lips”. Why would I be looking I thought to myself. “I can’t speak with a dry mouth and lips” he said. The face was surely moist at this point because he couldn’t shut-up and since I would be sitting next to him for the next two hours I had also hoped the Hershey squirts subsided.

He went on tell me how he lived with his mother and he was single; two details of which neither came as a shock to me. Then he proceeded to tell me that he owned thirty-two single family vacation units all within ten miles of the Disney complex, he only has a mortgage on the five most recent purchases, so he owns twenty-seven properties out right. He went on to tell me he has a 90% booking rate for all of his properties. He’s flying back to Orlando from a meeting in New York about a possible partnership in a new restaurant on the Upper West Side. He also told me how he is about to close on his first multi-tenant dwelling, It’s a twenty condo unit complete with private nine hole executive golf course three miles from the Magic Kingdom. He tells how he played hardball and they took his $11 million dollar offer!!

He then tells me it’s not all business all the time and pulls out a photo of his girlfriend. She is on his lap in a bikini and she is a few levels beyond smoking hot. He brags how she was a Miss Hawaiian Tropic 2004 and now she’s an actress. He met her at the Hoopty Doo Review. She was one of the cowgirls the night he and his mom had front row seats. She pointed her six-shooter at him as he took a break from his baked beans and glanced up.

He said it was love at first sight, but now he’s grown tired of her. All she wants to do is party and have sex. The last straw came when she woke his mom from a sound sleep because she’s a real screamer in bed. He said it will be hard for him for tell her it’s over but she will just have to get over him…

We’re Going to Disneyworld (Part I)

After much nagging I reluctantly decided to go..

Our first mistake was booking the flight through US Air, which should be called US Scare. I knew we were in trouble when the guy at the terminal mumbled “How much luggage you checkin’?” I said “five suitcases”, he then said to his co-workers “We got three here!”, I added “Excuse me, I said five”, he fired back “Scuse me, what you think I can’t hear or are you sayin’ I’m stupid?” I said “No, I just wanted to make sure all our bags make it onto the plane” He then looked at his co-workers, then back to me,, then back to them and said “Listen to this racist mutha-effer, he thinks were going steal his sorry-ass bags, know what I’m sayin?”. I had no idea what he was saying but his co-workers were locked in to every word.

We made our way to Terminal C only to realize our flight had been pushed back two hours. To be stuck in an airport terminal with a spoiled little brat for two hours in no fun. Then when you add in her two kids it really sucks. “I’m hungry”… But, we just ate. “I’m tired” You just woke up two hours ago. “I have to go to the bathroom” I just took you twenty minutes ago.

The experience of a boarding a plane is nothing less than excruciating since 9/11. It is bad enough the twenty or so times I’ve taken flights for meetings. But when you have family in tow things are much worse. The line for security snaked around the dangling red valor rope fence for a about fifty yards or so. Even though our flight was delayed two hours it was still morning. This means half the people in line were business travelers headed to Orlando for work and the other half were families headed to Disney for fun.

Besides the obvious, that being the kids surrounding the parents, there were other ways you could distinguish the Disney people from the business people. The Disney people were ear to ear smiles kids and parents alike. A week away from the drudgery of work should make anyone smile. I don’t necessarily have to be headed to Disney for that to happen

I could feel the sneers being cast upon the Disney families by the business people. I wasn’t sure if they were pissed about us going on vacation or just pissed that the line was so long because there were so many damned kids. Either way, they were pissed.

Forty minutes later we all put our shoes back on and boarded the plane.

Because I booked with the cheapest online fifth rate travel agent I could find; the four of us sat in three different aisles. My son and daughter were together two aisles ahead of me. My wife was three aisles behind me.

On most of the business trips I’ve taken people in the seats next to me are too busy either sleeping, punching something up in their laptops on have their face buried in the Wall Street Journal to chat. They are not interested in conversations nor am I. I can’t ever recall exchanging two words with a fellow passenger…

It’s Not You, it’s my Grandma She’s a Royal Pain in the Ass

Prince William broke up with his girlfriend Kate Middleton because the Queen Mum thought she was too common for her grandson. This supposedly happened after Kate Middleton’s mom; Carole made the faux pas of asking the Queen the whereabouts of the shitter. She may have used lavatory, toilet, or even water closet, I couldn’t make the party so I don’t know for sure. But to warrant her daughter getting dumped I hope to hell she said shitter as the queen let out an “oh my” and fainted ass over tea kettle.

Believe me, the irony of asking the queen “Where’s the throne?” is not lost on me. I get it and I like it a lot.

“This country is riven by the class system. It is more alive than it has ever been," the Daily Mirror's royal correspondent James Whitaker said after the separation was announced over the weekend. I’ve never heard or seen the word “riven” before and I don’t have Roget’s Clitoris at my fingertips but it has to mean “divided”. I wish these proper English would learn proper English. He later added “and our bloody dental plans are all absolutely dreadful, rich or poor!!” through his multi-directional, multi-colored chickets.

Carole Middleton should have realized the queen had no idea where the toilet is, she probably hasn’t wiped her own turd-cutter in a good sixty years. They have court jesters to do that for her. The Earl of Dingleberry is her personal favorite.

And if she did use a toilet you could be damned sure it’s not a toilet any one of our arses has ever touched. “Young man, oh young man, you left the seat up and the odors are ghastly!! Have him sent to the gallows this instant...I command you!!”

The clash of the classes apparently took place last December at William’s graduation at Sandhurst Military Academy; which is the equivalent of West Point here in the U.S. "Nobody could believe it when Carole Middleton chewed gum throughout," Whitaker said. Big she deal she chewed gum, it wasn't like she whipped out a tit and started gnawing on it.

Keith Richards snorted his dad and he’s a bloody knight! It’s all a bunch of bollocks I tell you!

A brief detour here because I have a short attention span and an even shorter penis. Why did Princes William and Harry attend Sandhurst? What a waste of resources. This is like sending Stevie Wonder to NASCAR school, or giving Steven Hawking a year’s worth of karate lessons. The next battle William will be involved with will be the battle of the bands as a judge and even then he will suck:. “I cunt decide, they were all jolly good!”

I know they sent the other brother; Harry off to Iraq you say? That kid won’t leave the comfortable confines of some cushy diplomatic air conditioned office unless it’s for a photo-op that can be picked-up by The Sun or Daily Mirror. They will place him face down holding an AK-47 in the sand, snap a few quick photos, then rush him back in inside for tea and crumpets before a bead of sweet reaches his brow. If by some miracle he did see combat and got wounded or killed, no worries he’s the spare, remember!

How would you like to go through life with that self-confidence building nickname, “THE SPARE”?? The commoner’s parents just call the rest of their unwanted kids mistakes. The spare is just mean.

Back to the air apparent and his deal… so he dumps this Lindsay Lohan look-alike and blames it on Grammy. He sounds like he is ready to be King… do nothing, and blame somebody else when things go wrong.

Sounds like Willy wants to anoint his royal scepter in some strange new waters.

Bookmakers quickly joined the great debate about the Prince’s next girlfriend. Ladbrokes gambling house promptly installed the upper-class socialite Isabella Anstruther-Gough-Calthorpe as 6-1 favorite to marry William. Any chick with four names has to be an upper-crust snob. By the way, Britney Spears is an infinity to one favorite, even before she shaved her melon just in case you wish to partake in wagering.

"A number of socialites will be dusting off their ball gowns and polishing their Pradas now that William is back on the market," Ladbrokes spokesman Nick Weinberg said.

Yup, it’s good to be king… almost.

Top Ten Rejected Imus Excuses

10. You know I’m supporting Obama over Hillary don’t you?
9. I'm really old and it just slipped out of me like a fart
8. I have courtside Knicks seats near Spike Lee
7. My limo driver is black, he knows I’m not a racist, I think?
6. Can’t you tell I’m really dead, no one breathing looks this bad?
5. I’ve never had one damned lynching at my New Mexico ranch, not one.
4. My favorite Cowboy hat is black
3. It was really that racist Michael Richards doing his Imus impression
2. If they accept my apology I will buy the whole team KFC for a year, even the white girl

And the number one rejected Imus excuse..
Some of my best friends are nappy headed hos

Your Dad is Being a Real Birkhead!

I guess they can stop sending the unemployment checks to Larry Birkhead now that he is the winner of the DNA lottery. Like many suspected, Howard K. Stern is the not the biological father of Dannielynn. I don’t think Stern ever had sex with Anna Nicole, he probably never even saw her naked besides in Playboy, like the rest of us. The closest he got to peeling off her lingerie was handling her legal briefs.

Even though Stern plied her with a boatload of drugs, he got as much action from Anna as her husband oil tycoon J. Howard Marshall II . Marshall was in his eighties and in a wheelchair when he married Anna back in the early 1990’s. You could be sure 'Ole Howard would have hit that, but Viagra wasn’t around back then. I guess that old timer was just born too soon.

On their honeymoon he was so excited he almost had a stroke..but he couldn’t reach and Anna wouldn’t move closer.

"I told you so!" Birkhead crowed to a group of reporter in the Bahamas after the test results were announced. "I'm going to the toy store!" I don’t think he Ferrari dealer on Wilshire Blvd. can be technically classified as a “toy store”

I’ve heard Birkhead interviewed a few times, he is about as sharp as a bowling ball. The DNA test may be the first test he’s ever actually passed. He talked happily about being "able to start a life with my daughter," The first father-daughter bonding moment will be when he opens his little angel’s first joint bank account. Next they will put that down payment on that sweeeet bachelor nursery nestled up in the Hollywood Hills. Fatherhood is a beautiful thing.

He’s this decades Kato Kaelin with blonder highlights and better closing skills.

Don’t feel too bad for Howard K. Stern just because his seed didn’t keep the lead. He was paralyzed with grief when Anna Nicole died, but somehow managed to pull himself together in time to sell the exclusive television rights to the funeral to Entertainment Tonight for a few million dollars all of which he kept. So, I guess you could say he still hasn’t blown his load.

Mistaken Identity (Part III)

Next I was subjected to a battery of questions about my alleged previous criminal activity, any weapons I may own, drugs I may haven taken and or sold. I answered everything to the best of my ability, although I still didn’t have a great alibi because my wife and I crashed early that Friday, even if she didn’t remember this critical fact when asked. Maybe she wants me to go to jail? Dick Small was a real pain in my ass asking the officer to repeat every question he asked. No doubt he learned this annoying practice at law school that is if he even went to law school.

I was then placed in a room, side by side with other suspects that bared no resemblance to me. This was the lineup I’ve seen many times on CSI Jersey City or some other show like it. The walls were marked with lines to determine the suspect’s height. We were instructed to turn different ways by a voice that was behind the one way glass. I presumed the cashier of the 7-11 also sat behind the one way glass.

My faith in our legal system has never been what you call great, but having been witness to five guys who look nothing alike, are not the same height, or even the same race for that matter really destroyed what little belief I had.

The guy to my immediate left had an accent that I couldn’t quite make out. The best I could tell it was some type of Nordic dialect; Finnish, Swedish, Icelandic (if that is even a language?). To my right was an Indian fellow, not Bombay Indian, US of A Great Plains living in a Tepee Indian. He was in full Indian garb, and by the looks of what he was wearing he had to be important in his tribe. Maybe he is the CEO of the hotel and casino, like a Donald J. Trump type. Maybe he is Chief Combover?

I kept waiting for my wife and some friends to walk in from behind the glass to finally tell me I’ve been Punk’d., but that never happened. After the cattle call, I was questioned some more. One of the questions I was asked is whether I would take a lie detector test or not.

I glanced at Dick Small for some guidance. The way he shrugged his shoulders with both palms facing the sky didn’t really help me decide. I assumed the yellow legal pad he was scribbling into had important legal notes that would ultimately result in my vindication. I was disappointed to learn the pad contained only poorly sketched renderings of Homer Simpson and Spiderman. “Before I became a lawyer, I was student at the Philadelphia College of Art” he proudly announced. I then wondered if his parents ever demanded a full refund from either the college or the hospital where he was hatched.

I was aware the test has some built-in fallibility. I’ve read stories of the guilty passing and the innocent failing. I took the lie detector test since I had nothing to hide and if I didn’t take it this may be an assumed admission of guilt. I don’t think I’ve ever been so nervous in my life. I worried that my nerves would help yield a false reading. “Just relax”, coached Dick Small. “I’m going outside for a smoke, do you want anything?” he asked. “How about a real lawyer” I mumbled to myself.

These were all the same questions I answered before except this time I was all wired up and answering for some geek in a bowtie. After the test I was told by the police I was free to go. They said if they needed anymore information they would contact me. Since I was free to go I made the reasonable assumption that I passed the lie detector test. I didn’t want to press my luck by asking and my legal representation was still outside smoking or drawing.

I went home not knowing what to expect next. A steady stream of friends, relatives, and neighbors stopped by the house to discuss the whole ordeal. By their facial expressions; I could tell they were either shocked that I was accused of such a thing, or shocked that I was a free man given what I had done. Apparently when I told the wife to “DON’T SAY A WORD ABOUT THIS TO ANYONE UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES” I wasn’t clear enough.

Turns out the guy robbed a few other convenience stores in the area and was finally caught. I saw the whole thing on the six o’clock news. Incidentally, he didn’t look like me or any of the other fools in the police lineup.

Mistaken Identity (Part II)

“Can you tell us your whereabouts on the night of Friday February 16th at 10:00PM?” one asked. “I looked at my wife and said the 16th of February I don’t remember, why do you ask?” “There was a robbery on the 7-Eleven on Main Street; the video camera caught everything on tape”. “From the tape, we had an artist render a sketch of the perpetrator which we placed all over town” one of the police officers said. “Okay, what does this all have to do with me” I asked. “We’ve had more than one phone saying you the photo looks like you” They showed us a copy of the drawing which look absolutely nothing like me. “Oh my God I didn’t know you still had that coat!” my wife stupidly chimed in. “THAT ISN’T ME” I frantically protested. “Sure, sure it wasn’t you”. “Now can you tell us where you were on the 16th of February at 10PM?” “I took my wife out for a Valentine’s dinner, our reservation at Le Maison was for 9 o’clock, we didn’t finish until close to 11 o’clock and we were no where near Main Street that night” I added for emphasis.. Before I had a chance to further bolster the alibi, the wife informed all that out Valentine’s dinner was actually on Saturday night the 17th, not Friday the 16th as I just so confidently proclaimed.

“We’d like to come to the police station for further questioning; it’s your right to retain a lawyer at this time. IN FACT WE STRONGLY ENCOURAGE YOU TO DO SO.


To this point in my life the only police stations I’ve ever seen were in TV shows or movies. The Hollywood versions were much nicer than the dump I was now parked in. Since this was a case of mistaken identity and his legal skills wouldn’t be put to the test I called the cheapest lawyer I could find in the Yellow Pages. The ad stated “Been hurt in an accident, at work, in public, it’s not your fault. WE WON’T GET PAID UNTIL YOU GET PAID”. “Call Horowitz, Isenberg, Goldstein, and O’Leary at 1-800-NODOLLAR”. This is great I thought, since I’m not getting paid I won’t owe him anything when this get’s all cleared up, it’s a win-win situation for me, legal representation for free.

Hello, my name is Richard Small representing H.I.G. and O as your attorney” Just call me Dick” “Dick Small?” I questioned “I’d never heard any complaints” he chuckled back. Now worried I asked “How long have you been practicing law?” “Just a few months” he answered. I followed up with “How many cases have you handled?” “Including this one”? he asked. “Yes” I said, “Okay that would be one” he stated.

“I wish you would have gotten here before they did the cavity search” I joked. He looked around and said “They have a Dentist in this place? That’s pretty cool” he wasn’t joking. I had the sinking feeling this whole situation was rapidly headed from bad to worse…

Mistaken Identity (Part I)

Sunday mornings should be peaceful and easy like that Lionel Ritchie song. A glowing sunshine peeking threw a half drawn shades accompanied by a chorus of red cardinals chirping in melodic unison is the way to gently rise from an eight plus hour slumber. No blaring alarm clocks necessary, it’s Sunday morning. Maybe you sleep in, maybe you go to church, and maybe you try to get some from the wife; who coldly rejects you because it’s her time of the month again for the third time this month. A peaceful Sunday morning should never be interrupted by the sound of police officers pounding at the front door.

“Did you hear that?” my wife asked. “Yeah, another cold rejection from you, yes I heard” my blue balls and I answered. “No the pounding on the front door” she said frantically. I said; “It’s probably Mrs. Shackleton needing to borrow milk or something.” Mrs. Shackleton is our eighty-three old neighbor who became a widow the year Reagan was elected president; which was about twenty seven years ago. But, she has arthritis in most of her major extremities so I don’t believe her capable of putting that kind of thumping on a steel door or any other door for that matter. Besides she always uses the doorbell when nagging us. She is proper that way.

Although I do recall a few years back when she opened up a keg of whoop-ass of some neighbor teenagers who made the mistake of smoking weed on her front yard. She hobbled toward the front yard toting an old Louisville Slugger that may actually bear Babe Ruth’s autograph. Either out of amusement of the vision of a decrepit old bag headed toward them carrying lumber, or just the fact that they were totally baked, the stoners cackled together in a half-laugh half-cough. The one stoner was laughing/coughing so hard he fell to the ground; it was at that point that ‘ole Mrs. Shackleton administered the cold-hearted beat down. The irony is that the stoner she beat like a Piñata was actually Mexican. The more ironic part is that he was legal. Fortunately for him, he was too stoned to feel his femur being smashed.

But, I digress back to the door being pounded by the police…

I would have rather slept for another hour or four, but at my wife’s urging I made my way downstairs to answer the relentless thumping on the door. On the other side of the door stood two police officers and another guy in a suit who was quick to let me know he was FBI. This trio of law enforcers looked as happy to see me as I was to see them. “We’d like to ask you ask you a few questions” the Fed said. This can’t be good, I thought to myself. Before I could answer with some stuff I remembered from Court TV, the wife invited the boys in blue into the house...

Peeling Back the Onion on the Candidates….Rudy Giuliani

Since he is now the favorite let’s look at Rudy Giuliani first - Rudy’s father did time for felony assault and robbery. Usually it’s the politician doing all the illegal shit not the parents, unless you’re a Bush or Kennedy of course then it happens in consecutive generations. Not only did Rudy not walk in the crooked footsteps of his Dad he became the District Attorney of NYC, so he routinely sent guys like Pops away to Rikers.

Giuliani has been married three times, a glutton for punishment no doubt. His first marriage was to Regina Peruggi, who was also his second cousin. Rudy said he didn’t find out they were cousins until fourteen years into the marriage, which also coincided with the fact that she was no longer hot. Funny how that works? Rudy should have had a clue when he got married and instead of her father telling him to call him “Dad”, he told Rudy it was alright to keep calling him “Uncle Tony”. Who did the blood test for the marriage license anyway, Dr. Ray Charles?

Rudy must have already had thoughts of the Presidency way back then. He was obviously trying to appeal to the all important Southern voting block by marrying the cousin. The “shotgun wedding” is when you knock her up and her dad forces you into the marriage staring down the barrel of his Winchester. I don’t know if they have a name for marrying a relative, but I’m going on record right now and dubbing it “banjo wedding”. If you have a child with a relative he will look like the banjo kid in Deliverance or worse. You read it hear first, just in case I have to sue somebody I could use a few witnesses.

Guliani appeared in public in drag three times. He even did it once on Saturday Night Live in 1997. The other two occasions were both in Times Square and he was just feeling girly and went with it. So, its official I would never want to put my hand up the skirt of the next President; either Rudy or Hillary.

Rudy left his second wife; Donna Hanover for his current wife Judith Nathan. Rudy had a son and daughter with Hanover and neither is currently on speaking terms with him because of the nasty divorce and the ensuing hard feelings. If he becomes President, I’m sure that will change. You know how it easy it is to get laid when your dad is the President? No, me neither.

It might no be that easy? Think about it, the Secret Service is perched outside the door listening to even last moan. Both parties have to be self conscious, the male partner doesn’t want to finish too quickly because then he will get his balls busted by the agents at the door. The female doesn’t want to get to loud knowing she has a male audience within earshot who may think she is a total HO is she gets too into it. So, it’s really a lose-lose situation.

Let’s look at some other positives, while mayor of NYC Rudy lowered crime and made the city a safer place to live and he showed incredible leadership in the aftermath of 9/11. You have to think he will be tougher on terrorism than any of the other candidates since he knew many victims personally.

He already has the hard core conservatives pissed off because he is pro-choice and supports gay marriage and stem cell research. So, it will be interesting to see if he can get the GOP nomination given he is socially liberal. His poll numbers are very impressive; he leads both John McCain and Hillary Clinton by double digits.

Not bad for a cross-dressing, kids-hating, cousin marrying glutton for punishment!

Second, Third, and Fourth Thoughts

Why is the bag of peanut M&Ms in the vending machine the same price as the plain? Are they just giving away free peanuts?

They have hate crimes. Is there a name for crime you commit on someone you just kind of dislike?

Will the show ‘LOST’ ever release lost episodes? If so what will they be called so you don’t think they are really just some extra episodes that weren’t misplaced after all?

Is it considered safe sex if two bank employees sneak off to the vault to screw without a condom?

Why did they have a standing ovation for Stevie Wonder at this years Grammy’s? They should have just cheered extra loud that way he could appreciate the tribute too.

I like porn as much as the next guy, if that next guy happens to be Ron Jeremy

You can be in the medical or legal field, or you can be in the political arena. Do we hate lawyers and doctors more than politicians so they must be kept outside?

If your yearly physical reveals nothing remarkable is it right to ask the doctor for your medical records?

Why are model airplanes more expensive than the same size plane already assembled? If anything we should get a rebate for all our hard work.

If a graffiti artist defaces a screen in a movie theater, could he be considered a screen writer?

When you tell a joke and a person says “that’s funny” instead of laughing, they really should just say; “that’s not funny”

Do you think the person who first coined the named “Princess Di” was a psychic?

The cyclist on the narrow road is in less danger than the person hit head on by the driver who over exaggerates the avoidance of the cyclist by veering into the other lane

Is it possible to have sex with a woman during her period with no strings attached?

How do our dogs know exactly which neighbor will be the most pissed off before he decides where to shit?