Wednesday, February 28, 2007

I like girls bhay-gn-flay-vn... or "Oh Dear, I've been RE-DORKULATED!"

In a stunning feat of stating the obvious, the Chicago Tribune recently reported that women are a mystery to scientists.

A group of white lab-coated, bad haircut, soda-bottle glasses-wearing Poindexters converged on Chicago last week to try to figure out why they can't get dates.

A clue to the conundrum might be in the last sentence of this quote from the Tribune's story (emphasis added by me)
Researchers presenting their findings at the society's sixth annual meeting are still trying to figure out which hormones and neurotransmitters make sexual arousal possible, where in the brain orgasm takes place, and which nerves control the genital organs. Much of their work is being done in rats.
Now, if these guys had spent more time at the junior high dances and less time playing Dungeons&Dragons, they might realize (like the rest of us lady magnets do) that the way to turn on the honeys isn't by poking nerve endings with syringes full of weirdo chemicals (okay, that does work for some of the ladies), but by growing a bushy mustache and drinking Colt45.

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Tuesday, February 27, 2007

Inconvenient indeed

I don't watch the Oscars. I consider the whole affair a mass masturbatory event for the entertainment industry.

All the same, when I saw that AlGore's An Inconvenient Truth had won the Oscar for Best Documentary, I wanted to offer a hearty congratulations to AlGore and the film's director Davis Guggenheim.

But the Tennessee Center for Policy Research has nominated AlGore for an award for great achievements in hypocrisy.

After pouring over records from the Nashville Electric Service, the group found that AlGore's palatial Nashville mansion uses twice the electricity in one month than the typical household uses in an entire year.
Gore’s mansion, located in the posh Belle Meade area of Nashville, consumes more electricity every month than the average American household uses in an entire year, according to the Nashville Electric Service (NES).

In his documentary, the former Vice President calls on Americans to conserve energy by reducing electricity consumption at home.

The average household in America consumes 10,656 kilowatt-hours (kWh) per year, according to the Department of Energy. In 2006, Gore devoured nearly 221,000 kWh—more than 20 times the national average.

Last August alone, Gore burned through 22,619 kWh—guzzling more than twice the electricity in one month than an average American family uses in an entire year. As a result of his energy consumption, Gore’s average monthly electric bill topped $1,359.

Since the release of An Inconvenient Truth, Gore’s energy consumption has increased from an average of 16,200 kWh per month in 2005, to 18,400 kWh per month in 2006.

Gore’s extravagant energy use does not stop at his electric bill. Natural gas bills for Gore’s mansion and guest house averaged $1,080 per month last year.
This is just further evidence for my theory that Liberal politicians are not only arrogant and pretentious, but hypocritical as well.

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YouTube Tuesday: God, Inc.

Imagine what it would be like to work in the corporate offices of God.

Pretty cool, right? Big break rooms, lots of parking spots, fun, uplifting people to work with. Well, not according to the producers of God, Inc.

This is probably the best YouTube serial since Chad Vader. Great writing, competent acting (for YouTube anyway) and an interesting concept. There are currently six "webisodes" available. Here's the pilot...


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Monday, February 26, 2007

My advice to you is to start drinking heavily.

The national organization of Delta Zeta sorority has taken the bold step of returning to the roots of the sorority system by kicking out members of the DePauw University chapter.

According to The New York Times
:
Worried that a negative stereotype of the sorority was contributing to a decline in membership that had left its Greek-columned house here half empty, Delta Zeta’s national officers interviewed 35 DePauw members in November, quizzing them about their dedication to recruitment. They judged 23 of the women insufficiently committed and later told them to vacate the sorority house.

The 23 members included every woman who was overweight. They also included the only black, Korean and Vietnamese members. The dozen students allowed to stay were slender and popular with fraternity men — conventionally pretty women the sorority hoped could attract new recruits. Six of the 12 were so infuriated they quit.

The booted sorority sisters vowed not to take the slight lightly. According to my many inside sources* the sorority members are working on revenge tactics that include taking over the upcoming homecoming parade with a pirate float, and winning the Greek Olympics in order to start their own sorority.

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*© Greg Beck at Death's Door

You dirty rotten filthy stinking animals

I try to be moderate. I try to be tolerant.

I try to practice the libertarian "live and let live" philosophy that I tell myself I believe in.

I don't want to live in a nanny state. I think people should focus more on their responsibilities than their rights.

When someone proposes banning a breed of dog, or banning advertisements for fast food, my first response is "Whoa now, let's not be so hasty!"

But you science-damned smokers make it really fucking hard.

I want to be against the proposed metro area ban on smoking in public places. I want to oppose measures like Germany's proposed ban on smoking while driving, which -- let's face it -- is the next logical step in this country.

But you dirty smokers make it impossible for me not to turn socialist on this issue.

It's bad enough that I have to walk through a cloud of cigarette smoke when I get to work. Science forbid you use the designated smoking area.

It's bad enough that I can't stop at any freakin' intersection in this city without looking out my car window and seeing a pile of cigarette butts in the gutters.

The last straw happened this weekend as we were returning from an out-of-town trip. I'm driving down I-35, eager to get home, when a disgusting Selma Bouvier driving a rusted red Oldsmobuick flicked her butt out her window.

It landed squarely with a flash of burning ash on my windshield, sending my internal dialog into a stream of obscenities.

You dirty, rotten, filthy, stinking, vile, detestable animals. You know how abominable those butts are. You'd rather throw them out your window than sully your own rust bucket with them.

It's obvious that smokers can't handle their responsibilities as smokers (let alone functioning citizens of our society). I hate to say it, but you can now sign me up as a supporter of any and all anti-smoking proposals that might be in the works.
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Friday, February 23, 2007

Friday Blogthing: Not in a NY state of mind

Yeah, this is about right. No offense to the east coasters, but I'll take San Francisco over NY any day of the week.

You Are 32% NYC

Okay, so maybe you've been to NYC. But you probably really live in Connecticut.

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Headlines: 1st Beaver spotted in NYC in 200 years

This is great news for NYC.
Here's the key quote from the story:
"It had to happen because beaver populations are expanding, and their habitats are shrinking," said Dietland Muller-Schwarze, a beaver expert at the State University of New York College of Environmental Science and Forestry in Syracuse. "We're probably going to see more of them in the future."
This is true, even in these parts. A casual stroll through Westport on any Friday or Saturday night shows how even the furriest beavers seem to be bursting out of their surroundings.

Fortunately, there has never been a shortage of beaver in Kansas City, although I've heard that it's been at least 200 years since Larry Moore has seen one.

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Thursday, February 22, 2007

Tossing your chicken

I haven't mentioned the defeat my alma mater suffered to the KU Jayhawks last weekend. It got a lot of press around these parts and marks the 34th time K-State has lost to KU at Bramlage Coliseum.

It was a good game and the 'Cats, who took the lead into halftime, showed that they're getting better.

But the bigger controversy came before the game when some of the students tossed a chicken onto the court, a mockery of the KU mascot. There is some discrepancy on whether the chicken died when it hit the court or if it died whilst being smuggled into the arena.

Nevertheless, at some point it died. And this offended some people with a softer constitution. The whole stunt was a call back to the days of Ahearn Fieldhouse when the chicken toss was commonplace during games with big rivals. As such, it plucked the more nostalgic of my heartstrings.

Don’t get me wrong, the death of the chicken was tragic. But in my defense, I've really cut back on the amount of chicken tossing I do.

I remember when I was in junior high and high school, I used to toss my chicken four or five times a week if not more. One time, my mom walked in on me tossing my chicken, talk about embarrassing!

When I got to college, I became interested in other things. My social calendar got in the way of chicken tossing and to be honest, when you're going out with a hot Gamma Phi Beta, you don't need to rely on tossing your chicken for thrills. Nevertheless, I still would toss my chicken every once in a while when the mood would strike me.

Since I got married, I find that I very rarely toss my chicken. And when I do I'm very discreet about it. It's just not something that a man of my age and social stature should make a habit of doing.

But I have to admit, there is still a guilty part of me that occasionally enjoys a good chicken toss.

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I could've been a terrorist

One of the TV shows I watch a lot is Boston Legal.

When it first came out a season or two ago, I really liked it. This season? Not so much. I still watch it because there's nothing better during that time slot and what the hell else am I going to do if I don't watch TV.

But the story lines are just getting silly and goofy (a big, black transvestite and a lawyer stuck in a Buzz Lightyear costume? Puleeez!). I should expect as much from a show staring Candice Bergen.

Anyway, one recent episode featured William Shatner's character, Denny Crane, denied air travel to Hawaii because his name is on the federal no-fly list, suing the Office of Homeland Security.

I don't remember much about the episode (it was pretty forgettable) aside from the fact that I kept rolling my eyes at the overly melodramatic diatribes foisted by the actors-playing-lawyers. I guess what I find so irritating is the writers' penchant for finding any issue that is the tiniest bit topical and blowing it way out of proportion for the sake of soap opera drama.

The only reason I bring this up now is that I learned last weekend that I might be a terrorist.

That's right, I've been Denny Craned.

I found out about it when my attempt to use an airline's self-ticketing kiosk at KCI was thwarted by a message to "Please see the ticket agent."

So I had to go back and wait on line to see the airline worker. He took my confirmation number and punched it into his computer. A puzzled look crossed his face as he punched a few more keys and asked for my driver's license.

Then and exclamation of "Aha." A few keystrokes later and I had my boarding pass.

"It turns out your name is on the Federal No-Fly list," he told me.

Immediately I thought to myself "Damn! They're on to me." But before I had a chance to shout "Derka Derka Mohammad jihad!" and make a run for short-term parking, the ticket agent said "I've corrected this. I just had to check your ID and make sure you are who you say you are. In the future when you book your flights you might want to include you're middle initial."

So, it turns out that I'm cleared for takeoff. And I didn't even get to sue Homeland Security.

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Wednesday, February 21, 2007

De-liverance

My Supermodel Wife and I are hosting one of her relatives and spouse this week.

Our family member needs a liver transplant and is in town for a battery of tests that takes a week to complete. Since they are family, we insisted that they bunk at our house so they don't have the added expense and hassle of a hotel.

We knew going into the deal that it would be a huge pain in the ass for us. But they're family, and family sticks together. I mean, having a liver transplant is no picnic either. Right?

Still, after half a week I've gained some valuable insights that I'll share with you now:
  • They say family and fish stink after three days. Well, I can tell you that when the family member is a smoker, the stink begins immediately. There's a hovering haze of stale smoke stench hanging in our house*. I swear I don't know how smokers can stand to be around themselves.

  • The amount of time the aforementioned smoke stench stays in your house is directly proportional to the number of cigarette butts left on you patio and driveway. Thanks again, smokers.

  • I have developed a theory (though the first part is still untested by me personally) that the one thing worse than having a camera shoved up your ass is sitting at the dinner table hearing someone tell the story about getting a camera shoved up their ass.

  • I have also developed a theory (also untested) that there is no polite way to say "Can't you shut the fuck up for five minutes! I'm trying to watch Dances With Wolves and you're making it impossible to read the subtitles!"
Hey, this is just me venting. Like I said, we wouldn't want them to stay anywhere else. And, to keep it in perspective, this will all be over in a couple of days. It better be anyway, or I'll cut out my own liver and do the transplant at home.

*How's that for alliteration!


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