Haz some cheese sammich, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers
(Stop trying to make 'fetch a thing. It isn't going to happen) 

There is an Internet search engine that only searches for porn. Because it is so hard to find porn on the Internet. 

Arnold Schwarzenegger’s memoir is 656 pages long. But 232 of those pages are bulked-up from steroids.

Justin Bieber has thrown up on stage twice on his tour; Usually the only people who throw up at a Justin Bieber concert are the music critics.

Target employees are instructed to use the word Amazing more. As in; It is amazing how depressing it is to work at Target.

A study shows British men’s penises are larger than French and German men’s penises. So apparently the British don’t just have a stiff upper lip. 

The study is titled: Holy Crap is This Study Gay.

Red Lobster is producing a menu for people who don’t like seafood; well, it isn’t really a menu, it is directions to the closest Sizzlers.

Since you asked:

Saw a really good “No Reservations” on On Demand with Anthony Bourdain, “Burgundy”. Yes, Bourdain is full of himself, but why not? The guy gets paid to travel, eat and get hammered.

Many of those shows are interesting and feature way too much swearing and drunken idiocy by Bourdain.

But the star of “Burgundy” was France. Yes, I love to make jokes about the French, but I am mostly French. My Dad’s mother, my grandmother, Lillian, was 100% French. Everyone else in my lineage were German/Scottish/English mutts.

One thing you have to give to the French is that they love to love.

My “Since you asked” on love got some good reactions. We all know the most important thing is how much you love. First, your family and then your friends.

But love doesn’t stop there.

You can love music. You can love art. You can love poetry. And you should.

The French people in Burgundy seem to love everything, and it shows. They love their town, their wine, their food, their houses – which are gorgeous – their language, their clothes.

Joie de vivre, Slats and Nugs, joie de vivre.

People talk about the French Paradox. The French smoke, eat heavy sauces and sausages and drink more wine than Americans, yet they are far healthier. So, since we like to simplify everything, we write it off to the wine.

Anyone with any sense knows that isn’t it.

Picture a poor, old, lonely wretch sitting alone in his popcorn-ceiling, fly-buzzing, hot, studio apartment next to a freeway in smoggy  Cerritos, CA. He is eating his dinner on a trey in front of the TV while watching “Here Comes Honey Boo Boo.” His dinner consists of sausage smothered in a creamy butter sauce and he is drinking wine and smoking a cigarette.

Now picture the same old guy outside in a gorgeous flower-laden sunny backyard in Burgundy France, surrounded by his loving family, dogs barking, children running and laughing, music playing, oak wood smoking. And he is eating the same meal: sausage smothered in a creamy butter sauce and he is drinking wine and smoking a cigarette.

The prior will be dead in a year. The latter will live to be a feisty 100.

THAT is the French paradox.

Haz some, Torns and Ranches.