Won't you be my neighbor?

It's not that I dislike John McCain, it's that he's just so...well...old. One of the biggest things that I have against him is that he is old. I don't want another President that calls the Information Superhighway "the internets." I want a leader and I don't think he can do it.

Instead, I would like John McCain to be my neighbor. I would like to enjoy a Tom Collins with him on warm summer night, while sitting on his front porch. We would have just enjoyed some fried chicken and corn on the cob. Then enjoyed a nice slice of rubarb pie. Maybe played a game of horseshoes before dinner. It sounds nice doesn't it?

But, we are voting for President of the United States and not neighbors.

The Everyday Housewife

This is another entry from Danica. Better known as the Everyday Housewife.

I have limited interaction with our mailman other than the occasional, "Sup" head nod. If you think about it though the mailman certainly has some dirt on me. He knows that we have a subscription to Parents magazine . . and Playboy (with occasional, coinciding arrival days). He knows when our family members are travelling (more about that later) and even knows when the husband goes on late night, jersey-buying binges on ebay. As of this last weekend, he is also well aware of my affinity for fried meat.

Scene: Mailman approaches housewife's door.

Housewife happy she is wearing pants.

Mailman: deep inhale, "smells like bacon," smiles.

Housewife: Yep

Mailman: I love bacon

Housewife: (fumbling for polite small talk) Well, we've been eating ALOT of bacon lately

Mailman: So are the world travellers back?

Housewife: (look of confusion)

Mailman: I don't want to say that I read your postcards but you can't really help it when it is right next to the address. Did they really go all of those places?

Housewife: Oh, yeah. The travelling grandparents are now back in the country.

Husband: Did the mailman just comment on the bacon smell and admit that he reads our mail?

Housewife: Yep.

End scene

Paris/Rhianna '08: A Ticket I'd like to get Behind

So, if you haven't noticed, there is a Presidential race happening. McCain v. Obama. I think it's a cage match. John McCain is old, Barack Obama is for change blah, blah, blah, we get it. Anyway, in one of his TV adverts, Old Man McCain shows Paris Hilton for maybe one second. Ms. Hilton took that as an opportunity to put herself out there, again. Not a sex tape, not a new fragrance, not some champange in a can, but a retort of sorts. She jabs at McCain a little, then, completes an actual thought on the energy crisis. And wouldn't you know it, the thing makes sense.

Check it out: http://www.funnyordie.com/videos/64ad536a6d

(Some error thing happened and couldn't embed it. The interwebs is hard. I think the series of tubes is jammed.)

I'm not saying it's her idea or that she can even read, but shit, it does make sense. I am NOT saying elect Paris Hilton President of these fine United States, but I do hope that we find a solution and that the Presidential race doesn't turn into a giant pissing match.

Too Hot for a Shirt

It’s the start of a new work week and that means a new winner of “Too Hot for a Shirt.” This week it’s Sean Green. Not the baseball player, but the UCLA grad that thinks he can be a punter in the NFL. I’m serious and I hope he isn’t. This is truly amazing.

“I can be a teammate first. A punter second. Holder third (Right and left
footed, mind you). Third-string quarterback fourth. And fake punter fifth
(Running and throwing).”

From the looks of this video, he is the total package and quite a bargain for any NFL team. My only hope is that he is joking. If he is, it’s great. If he's not, then my hopes for humanity have been squelched. Something tells me he's serious.

WTF?

This section is dedicated to crazy shit that happens throughout a regular day. It leaves us only to ask one question, WTF? This entry is brought to us by Danica.

Each day I come to work knowing there is a high likelihood of a strange and uncomfortable interaction with at least one of my coworkers. This morning however, I had no idea that today would go down in the annuls of crazy workplace lore. Let me preface this with a little background on Angela. Angela came to us from a 23 1/2 year stint at a local newspaper. Yes, I said 1/2. With the addition of Angela, the median age of my work team is now 42. Angela herself was born in the paleolithic era and looks like a scary version of the wicked queen from Snow White. She is an odd duck with a background in theatre, which of course is why she is logically employed at the bank. What makes Angela interesting is her random, unprovoked outbursts of honesty. Today proved to be a fine day indeed. I complied with Angela's request to cover an outstanding item as she was leaving work early to pick up her son from camp. I graciously accepted her request and wished her all the best with her son as she had not seen him all week. She then asked if I would like to hear the "Zander" song. Never missing an opportunity to be entertained I agreed. I would like to say that this would be the first time this week that a coworker serenaded me, however not the case. The Zander song was heartfelt . . and LOUD. Below are the lyrics . .

He's my zander

He's my zanderman

He is my zander

Love him all I can

He is my zander

He's my pumpkin pie, its true Woo, woo, woo, wo-oo

Well I'm gonna kiss him and I'm gonna hug him

Gonna put him in the bathtub and rubba' dubba' dub him

Line I can't remember

Then I gonna pat his sweet bontoon

The only way to follow up such a beautiful song would be an equally outrageous statement. Angela announced (again very loudly) that she breastfed her son until he was 3 after I asked if she still sang the song to her son. That seems like a reasonable response to my question. Zander song and a proclamation of borderline child abuse, another day at the bank.

WTF?

I was finished at my health club today. I was getting dressed and had my towel on the floor. There was another towel sitting on the bench. The guy next to me pointed to the towel on the bench and asked “Is this yours or mine?” I told him it was his towel and then tried to make it a little more awkward by saying, “What, you don’t believe it community towels?” This is where it gets weird. As if standing in a locker room full of naked men isn’t odd enough. Guy launches into this story, “Funny you mention that. I remember years ago, I lived in a house with 4 or 5 guys. There was one guy that believed in community towels.” Okay, gross enough, but he continues. “Three times in one year, there were three times that every person in our house had crabs at the same time.” YUCK! JESUS MAN! Why would this guy say that? Why would you want to share that with anyone? I had never even met him before? WTF? Seriously? That is sick! Not a good first impression.

Stuff It Potsie!

Growing up, I loved watching Happy Days. I can’t figure out why. I would watch it any chance I had. It was on at supper time (not dinner, I grew up in Minnesota) and my family would usually have it on while eating. As a pre-teen, I thought Joanie was that shows Jessica Alba. I thought The Fonz was a playboy. I had this notion that a thumbs up and an “EEEEHHHH” would get me more ass than a toilet seat. Not true. However, I have seen the leather jacket and motorcycle thing work. I digress; the Cunningham’s were the perfect American family. Who knew that Mrs. C was one of us? That’s right; she was born in Albert Lea and went to the MacPhail Center before heading for the bright lights and syringes of Hollywood. Also, she has the most distinct honor of receiving the first star on the Minnesota Walk of Fame. Number 1: Marion Ross. It can be said that a good portion of her life was spent in Minney (approximately 18 years) and that this is her “home,” but does she deserve to be number one? There is no question that she had a very illustrious television career and she is deserving of a star, but numero uno? Other people to reportedly be receiving stars are the star of “Airplane!” Peter Graves and moustache rider Loni Anderson. Loni Anderson? Really? I like “WKRP in Cincinnati” and all, but I think she was famous for being a bimbo and have of Burt Reynolds money. When I think iconic Minnesota figures in Hollywood, none of these people come to mind. I would think that the Cohen Brothers or the Senatorial candidate Al Franken would be more recognized as famous Minnesotans in Hollywood. Maybe an Oscar isn’t worth what it used to be. Stupid Euro. What about Prince? He made the most iconic movie about Minneapolis of all time. Maybe this award doesn’t mean anything and they had to go down this far. Maybe others turned it down. Possibly they didn’t think they needed it. I hope not. Either way, nice job Mrs. C.

Your Ears Look Delicious

Riding the bus on my way to work this morning, I noticed something odd. It wasn’t the insufferable heat. It wasn’t a drunken vagrant on the street corner playing Uno with an imaginary elf named Rufus. It wasn’t a black man with a salt and pepper afro, wearing a tie dyed shirt, carrying a boom box. It was another passenger. It was his ears. They were shaped like Chili Fritos.

Too Hot for a Shirt

This section will be dedicated to the person, man or woman, whose ego is getting a little out of control. Kind of like the guy that will be outside on a sunny day in April, the temperature is 64 degrees and he decides, “Fuck it. It’s too hot for a shirt.” A man that feels the need to share what’s going on underneath is Juicy Couture graphic tee with everyone.

This time the award goes to Brett Favre. This guy is unbelievable. He called GM Ted Thompson’s bluff and is reporting to camp.

Ted: Brett, I don’t think it would be a good idea if you came to camp.
Brett: Why? What do mean? I am the Packers. The fans want me back. The team wants me back…everybody loves me. We almost went to the Super Bowl last year.
Ted: …well…we need to move on…we are going to give Aaron a shot…he deser-
[Favre cuts him off]
Brett: FUCK HIM! HE’S A GOD DAMN HIPPY! LONG HAIRED ASSHOLE! I’M COMIN’ TO CAMP!
Ted: Brett, come on, don’t be like that…
Brett: I’M COMIN’ TO CAMP! YOU BETTER HAVE MY LOCKER READY! I DIDN’T WATCH MY FRIENDS DIE FACEDOWN IN THE MUCK SO THAT SOME GRANOLA PATCHOULI BERKLEY FUCKHEAD COULD TAKE OVER MY TEAM! I BET HE DOESN’T EVEN KNOW HOW TO SHOOT A GUN! WHAT A PUSSY!
Ted: Don’t be like that. Face down in the muck? What? You’re not even old enough to have been in the Vietnam War. That doesn’t make sense
Brett: WHATEVER TED! DICKFACE! I’M COMIN’! BE READY! Oh…and ah…tell your wife thanks for sendin’ that gift basket, that was really nice…
Ted: Oh…not a problem Brett…How are the kids? How’s Deanna?
Brett: They’re doin’ great…It’s been really nice spendin’ time with them…OH WAIT, FUCK OFF! I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE TRYIN’ TO DO! I’M COMIN’!

Clearly, Brett wins. Who knows what will come out of this, but it will be entertaining.

Musings of the Everyday Housewife

I will be telling this third person or something like that. It didn’t happen to me, but to my some friends of mine. They are married. In the future, I would like Wife to post as The Everyday Housewife. It will be fun.

Husband and Wife are walking down Nicollet Mall. In the summertime, the mall tends to attract a few Americans that are down and out on there luck. These people are homeless or the more gentile nomenclature “Urban Campers.” On this wonderful and sunny day in Minneapolis Husband and Wife pass a camper that is asking for donations. This camper only has one leg and has his prosthetic leg lying next to him on the street. As Husband and Wife pass, they both notice the man. After walking by, Husband says to Wife, “OH MY GOD! Did you see how dirty his nails were?”

Most people would not notice the nails, but instead the prosthetic leg. Not Husband.

Let's get this shit started...

Here we go. This is it. The first post.

First things first. Everything is funny or nothing is funny. If I offend, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, I had too much to drink and she kissed me. Wait, that’s something else.

Hopefully, this blog will have something that will appeal to everyone and possible entertain. I’ve been trying to gather different people to post and have received favorable responses. One contributor, Handsome B. Wonderful, has already submitted an extensive library of material. It’s a 50/50 chance I will have posts from people such as The Big Man on Campus and The Everyday Housewife.

That’s about it for now.