Tuesday, November 16, 2010

So regal and yet so cute


Step off wit’ you good foot now, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers

A new study claims 1 out of 10 children have ADHD. As I’m sure you all know, ADHD stands for Attention Deficit something, something, whatever.

You can now get flu shots at JFK airport. Because I want the people who let the shoe bomber, the underwear bomber and the printing cartridge bombs on planes in charge of my medicine.

A study claims Los Angeles residents are second to last in intelligence. When asked to comment, one L.A. woman said; “Are you a vampire? I like vampires.”

The $129 million power ball lottery winning ticket that was purchased at a Michigan porn shop was claimed by a man, Mike Greer, who said a group of people bought the ticket at the porn shop, but it wasn’t him. Funny, that’s what I would say too. Especially to my wife.

Greer won’t say anything about the group. In fact, all we do know about the group it that they’re too stupid to shop for their porn online.

A study claims Los Angeles residents are second to last in intelligence. Upon hearing this, one Los Angeles man said he hasn’t been this angry since he knocked his front teeth out with a Shake Weight.

German scientists have discovered a brain disorder that causes victims to tell inappropriate and bad jokes. It’s called Carrot Top-osis.

Oh, screw you, no I don’t have it.

Minnesota Vikings QB Brett Favre is getting up there. Today at practice a player in the huddle said; “Uh, that’s great, Brett, but “That damn mailman comes later every day” isn’t actually one of our plays.

In England, a restaurant has opened that is just for dogs; it’s like a regular English restaurant except the food is better.

Since you asked:

Terms that sound like kinky sex acts but aren’t:

The Australian kangaroo catcher

The Debbie donut drop

Putting the mike on Betty

Bouncing on the exercise ball

The growling howler

Popping the cork of the Pinot.

Jagger’ing the Mick

Crotch soccer

Katie Eats a bagle

Putting the Pop Tart in the toaster

Skank-Hankin' in Poughkeepsie

A knickerless Middleton

Do the people who send ridiculously long and robotic sounding prerecorded phone messages – like schools, doctors offices, politicians – not understand how much everyone hates getting ridiculously long and robotic sounding prerecorded phone messages?

Are these the same borons behind pop-up computer ads and magazine subscription cards and do-it-yourself grocery store check out machines? The same oxygen thieves behind impossible to open packaging?



Bachelor Laundry Routine:

A, pick up shorts, B, sniff, C, mutter the phrase; "Nothing a little Fabreze won't fix," D, repeat.


So Lex, how do you feel about Michael Vick?

As a dog lover, I despise him, but he did his time and deserves to play. He is a living example of how a horrible person can have other-worldly athletic skills. I will never pay to see a game he plays in and I will avoid any product that uses his name.

Now Ben Roethlisburger is another story. He should pay for what he has done. God forbid, if my daughter was one of the several he attacked, I would shop for professionals who take care of human problems like him.

No lie, when I worked on Wall Street I used to cover this vile, evil, cold-hearted scary witch when I was a bond broker. They say you get the face you deserve? She must have a soul along the lines of Hitler or Stalin. She was child-crying ugly. You can't get uglier without an industrial accident. And her personality was worse.

One day she decided I had crossed her - actually my slimebag/comb-over manager lied to her - so she decided to make my life a living hell. She gave us false prices, gave us inflated prices, took out bonds and blatantly sold them for less at our rival firms and did everything she could to try and ruin our bond markets and get me fired. She was as vile as a buzzard's stomach acid. Now that I think about, she closely resembled a buzzard.

Thankfully the owner of our company, a true stand up guy when push came to shove, to mix a couple metaphors, did not give in, and she soon got fired. But while she was on a rampage it was brutal.

This full blown “Jersey Shore” Italian guy we called Chi-Chi Frank - who, gold chains and silk shirts aside, turned out to be a good guy - had married into the mob. No kidding, the FBI was at his wedding taking pictures, guests covered their faces before entering the church and they had a metal detector at the reception.


Chi-Chi Frank and I had become friendly, so he slides up to me at the desk as slick as can be and says so only I can hear him;

“Yo, Al, you want I should do something about this?”

Frank was a computer tech, so I didn’t know if that was the angle he meant.

“You mean turn off her screen?”

Frank laughed and said;

“Yeah, in a way, turn off her screen. Let me find out how much it would be to make this problem go away.”

Gave Frank a thanks, but no thanks. As much as I loathed this vindictive hideous shrew, I couldn't live with having hurt - or threatened to hurt - another human, which she barely but still qualified as. This was not an option and it never came to this as she was fired within a week or two.

But if, once again, god forbid, my daughter had been a victim of pig Ben, it would be a valid option.