Maybe That Would Shame Us into Being a Better Country. Ha! Ha! I'm Kidding.

I'm just an regular Joe
With an regular job.
I'm your average white, suburbanite slob.


I like football and porno and books about war.
I've got an average house with a nice, hardwood floor.


My wife and my job, my kids and my car,
My feet on my table and a Cuban cigar.


But sometimes that's just not enough to keep a man like me interested.
No, I have to go out and have fun at someone else's expense.…


I use public toilets, and I piss on the seats.
I walk around in the summertime saying “How about this heat?”


Sometimes, I park in handicapped spaces
While handicapped people make handicapped faces.


I'm an asshole!

Seriously, if there were truth-in-anthem laws, we'd be forced to make this song ours. I'll admit this one's almost as good. Maybe, we could sing it during the 7th-inning stretch, the way the sing “God Bless America” at a lot of ballparks these days. Trust me. I'm not dismissing it out of hand. What I'm saying is, if anthems had to be about the the country as is and not about how it was suppose to be—how it should be ideally—our anthem would have to be something by Denis Leary.

Kind of Makes Me Like Her More

Egyptian protesters threw tomatoes and shoes at U.S. Secretary of State Hillary Clinton's motorcade Sunday and shouted, “Monica, Monica, Monica” as she left the newly reopened U.S. Consulate in Alexandria.

Clinton said she was in the city to answer critics who believe Washington has taken sides in Egyptian politics. There were already vocal protesters at the start of her visit to the consulate, forcing the ceremony to be moved inside.

“I want to be clear that the United States is not in the business of choosing winners and losers in Egypt's internal struggles, but if we were, rest assured that we'd be choosing our winners from the side not throwing tomatoes and shoes at my fucking car,” Clinton said at the ceremony to reopen the consulate, which was closed in 1993 because of budget constraints. She then said “Assholes,” under her breath before leaving the dais.

Billionaire Assholes Have All the Fun. Duh

Billionaires are giving Romney a record breaking amount of money for his campaign this year. 78-year-old casino magnate Sheldon Adelson of Las Vegas, has pledged to give Romney $100 million to defeat Barack Obama. Sarah Silverman has a proposition for you, Sheldon.


Sarah Silverman: Sheldon, I have a proposal for you, and I'm serious. Look at me. If you give that $100 million to Obama instead of Romney, I will… Well, I won't have sex with you because we're not married and I'm a good girl, but I will scissor* you wearing a bikini bottom through to fruition. (That means until you come!)

I can't remember the last time a good girl offered to scissor me through to fruition, but it was probably the last time I donated millions of dollars to my Republican friend's campaign.

* You can stop thumbing through your copy of 50 Shades of Meh for a definition. It ain't in there. Lucky for you, she demonstrates what it is in the video. On a dog.

You're welcome.

Conversation with My 12-Year-Old Self (Sort of)

‎12-year-old Self to Me: “We shave our beard?! Why do we shave our beard?”


Me: “We don't. It's eaten away by airborne, beard-eating parasites released into the atmosphere by accident during biology class.”


12YO Me: “Really?!”


Me: “Yeah, really. It happens next year, when we're 13.”


12YO Me: “No way!”


Me: “Yes way. Look, I've got to go. My jetpack taxi's here."

Friday Flashback

I found this clip of one of my favorite comedians doing a set back in the 90s. Unfortunately, I couldn't embed the video into this post, so you'll have to click the link to view it. Please do.

A sexual revolution going on: Some of the stuff, I can do; some of it, I can't.

I ain't going to throw my back out of whack trying to do something some freaky seventeen-year-old invented. I stay within my own freaky limitations.

So, don't bring no handcuffs to bed with me. I've been locked up before; it ain't no sexy feeling. Sex is the last thing on your mind when they walking you into the big house. You don't want to look sexy at all.

Don't bring no whips and chains to bed with me. I wasn't a slave, but I heard about it. I watched Roots about seven or eight times: I'm liable to have a flashback and choke the hell out of somebody. If you want a spanking, I'll give you a spanking, but if you hit me back, it's on. I'm not into that shit.

It gets better, so come for the sex talk; stay for the O.J.-trial recap:

When I look at the O.J. case, I've got to admit the whole case has got me emotionally disturbed. I really don't know what to think.

When I first started watching the trial about a year ago, first thing I saw was the opening statement of the prosecution. When Marcia Clark finished listing all the evidence they had against O.J., I said, “O.J. did it. They may as well lock him up right now. I don't even know why they going on with a trial, all that evidence.” But I kept on watching till smooth Johnny Cochrane got up and started breaking it down.

Johnny Cochrane's got a point: They got too much evidence against O.J.

Nobody could've been that damn stupid, and even if they were, no one man could've made all them mistakes.

How can one man drop one bloody glove at the crime scene, take the matching bloody glove to his own house, drip blood all up and down Rockingham Blvd. — blood in the bushes, blood in the grass, left his hat on top of one of the bodies, blood on the fence, blood on the outside of the Bronco, blood inside the Bronco … O.J. couldn't have done all that! The Ojays couldn't have done all that stuff!

Ah, the nineties, it was a simpler, more innocent time. All we wanted was “liberty and juices for all,” and John Lewis was going to get it for us. Can't believe that didn't work out.