Grist for the Mill

The End of the "Tour"

2010-09-24T07:56:00.005-05:00

My string of shows opening for the great Jimmy Pardo is coming to a close for the year at ACME, October 5-9. I'm headlining October 5 (By the way, I can get you in to that show for free. Get in touch with me, or comment here, and I'll give you the code word.). I'll be opening for Jimmy the rest of that week.

One of the great things about working with Jimmy is that he is in a position to choose which clubs he works. The ones that, in his words, "get it." Clubs that "get it" tend to attract audiences who "get it," especially when the headliner is someone they "get." Get it? Got it? Good.

If you were at one of those shows and you bought a CD, or said "hi" or just enjoyed the show enough to be reading this now, THANK YOU. There is no greater joy to me, or any comedian I know, than making people laugh. It is intoxicating, and addictive. Thank you for being my pushers. Also, don't hesitate to contact the club, or request me on the comment card next time you're there. It helps. The disadvantage to working clubs that "get it" is that everybody wants to perform at them. There are a lot of good comedians out there, and the law of supply and demand is in full effect.

Compare and Contrast

2009-06-02T13:55:00.002-05:00

Via Neatorama and Cynical-C, respectively.

2009-05-08T15:52:00.002-05:00

One of the largest disadvantages of parenthood is that hampers your ability to express regrets about any choice you made prior to the conception of your youngest child.

Me: You know, there are times when I wish I'd gone to a school like Madison. The place has a really great vibe.

Friend: But then, you wouldn't have your son and daughters!

Me: You do realize that I don't actually have the ability to change history, right?

Hello, Bob and Tom Listeners!

2009-04-09T22:57:00.003-05:00

I know from experience that my hits will spike Friday, thanks to my (at present, upcoming) appearance on The Bob and Tom Show. I just wanted to take a moment to say hello and to thank you for taking the time to not only click through to my Web site but to also go so far as to click on the Blog link. You didn't have to do that. You could have just looked at the home page, verified that yes, the picture matches, and moved on with your life. But no, you clicked through to the blog, and for that I thank you.

Perhaps you also went to the Media page? That would be great if you did. There's some funny stuff there. There's other stuff by me out on the Internet, as a quick Google search will show you. You could even look at the merchandise page and buy something like a CD or a T-shirt. Or both. No pressure. Just letting you know it's there. Maybe you went to the schedule page and noticed that perhaps I'm scheduled to appear at a Club Near You. I hope to see you there. Maybe you noticed that I'm not scheduled to appear at a Club Near You. Well, if you enjoy my appearance on the show, then maybe you should drop an email to that club and mention my name. Couldn't hurt.

But what's important is that you got this far. Again, thanks. I hope I didn't suck.

Unconvention

2008-12-23T16:19:00.002-06:00

My pal Chris did a movie:

Last week, I finally got a chance to view the screener he gave me, and it's a fascinating meditation on the week that was.

The Internet Works!

2008-12-01T21:11:00.002-06:00

Russ Rogers has filmed himself doing The Cantaloupe Song:

Demand the Cantaloupe Song

2008-11-27T15:25:00.002-06:00

Here's a friend from way back making a humourous plea for YouTube stardom. You should go to YouTube and give him a good rating.

You should also demand that he do a video of the Cantaloupe Song.

Castle Peanut

2008-09-30T16:39:00.002-05:00

My 4 1/2 year-old has taken a great leap forward in her block stacking. I'm reminded of a Mayan stadium. Wait...a Quidditch Field. That's better -- no human sacrifice.

I've also included a more schematic shot of the full plan. If anyone happens to decipher an subliminal message from aliens or angels or Bigfoot, feel free to let me know.

Star Trek Winnipeg

2008-09-26T10:47:00.003-05:00

Once upon a time, a Star Trek club in Winnipeg had a TV Show. Fun fact: the girl interviewed about her entry in Walter Koenig's book is the emcee this week.

Last I checked, Part 3 was unavailable, but here's the embed.

"New Look" Matt

2008-09-23T15:31:00.002-05:00

It's actually "Old Look" Matt, but I had to wait a few years for my age and abilities to match up to it. Plus, I used to wear a tie. That's right. A tie.

New Rooftop Video from "Old Look" Matt

2008-08-30T02:11:00.001-05:00

20 years from now, it will be, "I truly do believe America's Got Talent..."

2008-08-29T00:51:00.003-05:00

Eight is Enough

I don't care what his technical classification is, but I believe that this line is proof that Obama is the first Gen-X presidential candidate. Too bad there are so few of us.

The RNC Didn't Really Think This Through

2008-08-27T09:54:00.002-05:00

Given the party's stance on gay rights, can you imagine the lousy service they're going get in Twin Cities restaurants next week?

Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve, huh? Adam! Steve! Come over here and spit in this.

I'm kidding of course. I think we all know it wouldn't be Adam and Steve anyway. It would be Adam and Stephen.

Courtesy of the Red, White and...Who?

2008-08-20T14:23:00.002-05:00

Toby Keith is a pro-Obama Democrat.

The Statue of Liberty is shakin' her head in disbelief.

I now regret the force and venom with which I was slamming this guy to my mom only a few days ago. Shame on me.

On the other hand, that was an incredibly obnoxious song he did.

Tweets Are All I've Got Lately

2008-08-12T11:56:00.002-05:00

As you can see from the sidebar, I've joined Generation Twitter. I resisted joining up for a while, because it seemed to be too reductive, too illustrative of the constant winnowing down of our collective attention span. However, once I joined up and found just how easy it was, I realize I was 100% correct in that perspective, but that I didn't care. Why kick against the pricks? Let the scales fall where they may, to strap down that particular biblical allusion and flog it within an inch of its life.

It's a busy time chez Fugate. For one thing, there is a new chez Fugate. Selling the previous chez Fugate, finding and purchasing the new chez Fugate, packing up the stuff from the old chez Fugate, moving from the old chez Fugate to the new chez Fugate, and now unpacking and placing the stuff into the new chez Fugate has sapped my energy to generate more than 14o characters worth of content at any particular time. Hence Twitter.

Fortunately, the dust appears to be settling. We're down to about 10% of the boxes yet to be unpacked and I just rearranged my office. It's not done yet -- it's never going to be done, but, it's functional enough for me to be able to sit at my desk and bang out some drivel. As a matter of fact, I have some other drivel-for-hire that is wildly overdue even as I type this. To be perfectly honest, I'm just using this space to clean the pipes a little so I can get back to the paid drivel. I hope that doesn't make you feel as cheap and dirty as I do.

Here, go to my friend Michael Dane's blog and read something far more entertaining than this drivel. He's new to blogging, so you can get in on the ground floor. Watch for his Twitter account some time in 2010.

I Never Knew They Had Them Here

2008-07-04T22:16:00.002-05:00

Professional fireworks in the distance. Amateur fireworks in the neighborhood. Fireflies in the yard. Guess which excites me most?

Enchanted Highway

2008-06-26T23:30:00.004-05:00

Sometimes life drops little things in your lap that make it all worthwhile. Neatorama was the source of this one for me:

via videosift.com

***

I was doing a small tour of North Dakota last week. Apparently, there's an oil boom. Who knew? As best I could tell, this is the result of a combination of the high prices and improved drilling technology. All I know is I still paid $4 a gallon the whole way.

Since the routing was very gentle between the nights. I've had a chance to really explore this part of the country. One such exploration was The Enhanted Highway. The Enchanted Highway is an attempt by one man to save his dying hometown of Regent, ND through the tourism he hoped would be generated by erecting large metal art sculptures along the 30-mile road from the Interstate to his town.

This is Geese in Flight, which is visible from the Interstate. It's the largest metal art sculpture in the world. I admire the fact that the town was willing to put the "headliner" at the beginning. You can't see the House on the Rock from the road, right?

All along the 30 miles from the Interstate to the town, there are gigantic metal sculptures. I think my favorite was Grasshopper's Delight

I listened to a audio documentary about the project. The creator of The Enchanted Highway had (and still has) big dreams. He's talking about a theme park, a motel, a RV park, a dinner theatre and a cafe. At present, they've got So far, they have two gift shops in Regent, one of which has a panini grill (with wi-fi, no less), but the theme park remains limited to this playground next to Grasshopper's Delight:

Yes, that's a bouncy grasshopper. You can't quite tell from this picture, but it's already seen better days:

There's a lot more along the road. Alas, my phone/camera battery was running low, so I don't have much more in the way of pics. However, if you go to the The Enhanted Highway site, there's a wealth of them there. Enjoy!

It's All About an Invisible Man in the Sky, After All

2008-06-23T23:26:00.001-05:00

Crossposted from Obama Can't Bowl

James Dobson (he's a Jerry Falwell for the 21st Century!) has accused Obama of "distorting" the Bible, apparently by suggesting that Jesus thought we should take care of the poor and stuff. I'm not sure where his objections lied. If you can better elucidate them in the comments section, I'd appreciate it, since the AP style typically dances around the actual content. Still, one quote jumped out at me, which was Dobson saying ""... He is dragging biblical understanding through the gutter."

If I may paraphrase the late, great George Carlin Bullshit! That's our fuckin' job!

Something For Your Reply to that E-mail from Your Cousin

2008-06-12T11:53:00.002-05:00

Crossposted from Obama Can't Bowl

The Obama campaign understands that while Lady Internet is a valuable friend to any candidate with a message and a pulse, she is also a horrible bitch goddess that has no compunction against spreading all manner of lies about you. So, they've launched a Web site devoted to debunking all those wacky Obama rumors you see and hear on the Internet and right-wing talk radio.

Now, when you get one of those grammar-optional e-mails about flag pins, madrasses or anti-white rhetoric (though nothing yet about nerd pencils), you can just refer the person who sent it to you to fightthesmears.com. Granted, you could also send them to Snopes, but the type of cognitively dissonant person (read: dumbass) that sends that stuff along probably resents the Hell out of that particular site by now.

So Round, So Cool, So Fully-Packed

2008-06-11T13:46:00.003-05:00

Crossposted from Obama Can't Bowl

Obama's fallen off the wagon in the last few months. What? He's an alcoholic? A coke head? A sex addict? Nope -- that's the last two guys who have held the office he seeks. Obama's particular addiction is tobacco. According to the Obama camp, however, he's back on the wagon and chewing away at the Nicorette, but he recently admitted that he has snuck a few cigarettes here and there while on the campaign trail.

I'm certainly in no position to judge in this case, having spent plenty of time as a closet smoker myself. There is a certain amount of benign deception involved. To sneak a cigarette, one must have a willingness to create elaborate justifications for one's behavior. You have to have the ability to appear to be doing one thing (taking out the trash, looking for firewood, heading out for a meeting to discuss the latest Zogby poll) when you really are doing another (furtively hot-boxing a heater and looking for a place to stash the butt*).

In other words, it's politics.

*Geez...it's still almost like I'm talking about Clinton, isn't it?

Somebody Call Ted Kennedy to Arrange the Necessary Overrides!

2008-06-10T17:01:00.001-05:00

Crossposted from Grumpy Old White Guy:

John McCain misspoke and hilarity ensued for a moment. He meant to say, "I will veto every bill with earmarks," and accidentally said "I will veto every beer."

I haven't laughed this hard since George W's famous gaffe in 2002: "We must do everything we can to help our brave transsexual prostitutes...I mean, allies in the War on Transsexual Prostitutes... er, Terror. TRANSSEXUAL PROSTITUTES!!! I mean... God Bless You and God Bless the United States of America."

2008-06-09T23:32:00.001-05:00

Check out this post at obamacantbowl.net. I wrote it. There's more where that came from.

2008-05-22T15:00:00.002-05:00

I was having breakfast with my dad a few weeks back, and he told me this story:

My father grew up in Clinton, IA, and when he was four years old, he was riding the bus with his mother. At that time, 1942, it was common for people to keep chickens (I don't know if it was part of contributing to the war effort, or if it was simply a fact of mid-century life in a small city in Iowa, but I like the phrase "victory chickens," so I'm leaning toward the former). A heavy-set woman got on the bus with a crate of chicks she had just purchased, and as she was fumbling for her bus token, she dropped the crate.

Suddenly, there were chicks everywhere, scampering down the aisle and darting under the seats. As the poor woman was bent over, frantically trying to collect them all and put them back in the crate, she let off a tremendous fart.

The bus driver then turned and said, "that's right lady, if you can't find 'em, shoot 'em!"

2008-04-24T09:51:00.003-05:00

I'm in Indianapolis this week. I have no column due, and no other pressing deadlines at the moment. I have time on my hands.

Time to watch some Betty Boop cartoons:

My folks were just visiting last weekend, and they brought a couple of $1 DVDs (thank you, public domain). One of them had a slew of Betty Boops on it, all of them surreal as Hell, and and most of them offensive in some way, shape or form. The one above was not on the disc, but this one was:

Whoof. It's always so hard to watch this stuff. How do you think Satchmo felt when he saw the ooga-booga native's floating head turn into his and then back again? Or, was he just happy to have the gig?

2008-04-17T02:52:00.000-05:00

At about 9:30 tonight, my son told me he got a call from a friend who told him that he had lice and would I take a look at his head to see if he did? Oh, did he ever. The smaller ones were building condos at the nape of his neck, while the larger ones were over by his ear complaining about how the scalp was losing all its charm.

2008-04-08T21:37:00.003-05:00

So now I have a new Web hosting service (i.e., one for which I am paying, and am not receiving by virtue of some work I did at the turn of the century). This entry is really more of a test to be sure it's all working correctly.

Besides, very few people come to this site, it seems. It makes the unlimited bandwidth option seem pretty silly, but on the other hand, that is one less obstacle to podcasting. Plus, for another thirty bucks a year, I don't have to worry about it. It's worth it.

2008-03-31T23:43:00.003-05:00

So now I have a Twitter account, which seems to be designed to fill in all those little nooks and crannies of potential productivity left between Myspace, Facebook, LiveJournal, etc. It's a way to de-frag your slacking! Come! Follow me into the abyss of microblogging!

Were I more adept at such things, I’d figure out how to put a Twitter feed directly to this blog, my LiveJournal, my Myspace, my Facebook page...Hell, I’d figure out how to get my CD on iTunes. I’d figure out a lot of things.

By the way, I just googled the word, "twitteratti," hoping against hope that I’d coined the term (naturally, I had not), but a small handful of results down came this gem of a first line:

@twitteratti Flickr is in the DP group now thanks to @mroth .

Welcome to the future. We may not be wearing jumpsuits, but our language is.

2008-03-14T23:20:00.001-05:00

Two More things about Celebrity Rehab

1. When the bespectacled guy in the hat mentions that people stop him at the bank and ask him if Jeff is going to survive the show, Brigitte Nielsen says to Jeff Conaway, "if only you knew how much people out there love you..." No, Brigitte. It's not love. When people slow down by the car wreck, it's not because they love the people involved.

2. There's nothing better than watching this show when you're on your third cocktail.

2008-03-12T21:10:00.002-05:00

I know I should minimize the "cute things my kids do" stories, if for no other reason than to appease the joyless husks who find such things annoying, but I can't resist this one.

My just-turned four year-old walked into the bathroom tonight as I was filling the tub for her bath. She pulled a toy cell phone out of her pocket, put it to her ear and started an imaginary conversation with her cousin. Below is her opening line (names changed, naturally).

Bama? Peanut.

[very brief pause]

Yeah -- still four...

2008-02-27T21:30:00.002-06:00

Okay, so I just found out that the guy who played Sully in Commando, David Patrick Kelly, also played President Truman in Flags of Our Fathers.

He also was the villain in Dreamscape, not to mention Jerry Horne in Twin Peaks.

I suppose it's appropriate that he'd wind up in the role of the guy who gave the "go" order to incinerate two entire cities.

Too harsh? Yeah. You're right.

2008-02-13T20:11:00.002-06:00

Actual Reuters headline: Dolly Parton postpones tour, blames breasts.

The article quotes her as saying, "Hey, you try wagging these puppies around a while and see if you don't have back problems."

The best thing about this is that I saw the headline in a side menu while reading a story about the economy.

2008-01-18T16:52:00.000-06:00

This fellow is former South Dakota state Rep. Ted Klaudt, who was just sentenced to 44 years for doing terrible things* to his foster daughters. The story is here.

Here's the scene as he's led in to prison with the other new cons:

[gates rumble open; the new cons file in]

INMATES: FISH! FRESH FISH! HERE FISHY FISHY!

[Klaudt enters]

INMATES: ...WHALE! FRESH WHALE! HERE WHALEY WHALEY!

*I phrased this euphemistically purely to avoid the wrong type of people coming to my blog from Google, not to minimize what this scumbag did.

2008-01-15T16:47:00.000-06:00

There have been some stories in the news lately about how the U.S economy is headed for recession.

Headed for recession? What the Hell are we in now?

2008-01-12T23:58:00.001-06:00

So, I'm watching Celebrity Rehab. Jeff Conaway melts down and we go to a promo for the latest edition of My Fair Brady. I'm wallowing in the very depths of Reality TV. Neenie walks into the the room, wrinkles her nose in disgust, and says, "wasn't it a writers' strike that gave us Survivor in the first place?"

2008-01-12T23:51:00.000-06:00

2008-01-08T17:18:00.000-06:00

Whoof...last published December 16. Bad bad bad creative person.

A few weeks ago, as I was getting home from running some errand or another, I noticed there was a young man and a young woman at my front door talking to my wife. Judging from their age and the clipboard in the woman's hand, I assumed they were activists -- MPIRG, Clean Water Action, Sierra Club, Writers' Guild of America -- until I heard one of them ask Neenie "if there was anything she'd like them to pray with her about" before they left. Aha...young people spreading the Word. The clipboard tripped me up.

There's always a temptation in those situations to pretend to be a much more horrible person than you are. I could have pretended to be an abusive spouse, or a Satan worshipper, or a child molester, or a combination of all three, but why ruin their day? They'd just had a polite conversation with somebody -- not a nibble at their answer to Life's Tough Questions to be sure, but at least they didn't get a door slammed in their face or the old let's-pretend-we're-not-home ruse. They probably saw their conversation with my wife as a positive exchange. No need to harsh their buzz.

Also, having spent a good chunk of my adolescence in the United Pentecostal Church, I've gone "door-knocking" a few times myself. I try not to be mean to proselytizers, because I understand that they see me as a drowning man and themselves as the ones with the life preserver. Personally, I think I am in the same kiddie pool as anyone else, but I spent too much time as a child watching the cars pass by while thinking to myself, "all of those people are going to Hell," to begrudge them their feeling of obligation.

Anyway, once they had moved on to my neighbor's door (there was no answer, but I don't know whether she was home), I asked Neenie where they were from. She had no idea. Once I saw the literature, however, I knew exactly who they were: Jehovah's Witnesses.

Not that the literature said anything about being from the Jehovah's Witnesses -- it never does. The JW's have a real knack for hiding their light under a bushel. Hell, they don't even bring copies of Watchtower or Awake! any more, because people have come to realize that those "magazines" are from them. Still, you can always tell JW literature, the same way you can recognize Target ads or Ramones songs. There is a definite "house style" to the illustrations, for one thing; most of their stuff looks like the cover of a children's version of Call of the Wild from 1982. Plus, the articles have a weird way of sounding perfectly reasonable (How Do You Measure Success? Peace on Earth -- A Mere Dream? Do I Have an Eating Disorder?), until you realize that it's all about the Invisible Man in the Sky.

They "got in the door" (or at least got the door to stay open for longer than 30 seconds) by saying they were taking a survey. Neenie is always happy to help, so she said yes. If this was a real survey, they make Republican push-pollsters look like, well, real pollsters. When the questions shifted from "to what do you attribute the rise in child abuse?" to "do you sometimes feel as though there is no hope?" all the way to "do you believe we are living in the end times?," it became clear to my wife that these were not starry-eyed idealistic college students. That's not stars, honey. That's glaze.

I just don't understand this approach. What testimony are they hoping their new members will offer?

NEW JW: I'm just so happy! I really believe I've found peace in my life.

FRIEND: That's great! To what do you owe this improvement?

NEW JW: Bait-and-switch!

2007-12-16T02:35:00.000-06:00

Do you have a compulsion?

What is that? I don't know what that is, exactly...

That's a typical exchange from NBC's To Catch a Predator. God, these guys are DUMB.

I'm amazed that there are so many of these guys. What I want to know is, did this start off as a one-time thing where they just decided to try to catch a couple and the whole thing just snowballed from there, or did an executive realize that the sheer volume of predators meant that this was was a potential cottage industry right out of the gate?

Also, have they caught any female predators? They must be out there, right? I mean, I'm reasonably sure they are a small portion of the whole, but they've got to be out there. On the other hand, female predators probably don't need to get on the Internet.

They just get teaching jobs.

2007-12-13T00:33:00.000-06:00

I'm watching Charlie Rose interview Steve Martin. I never really appreciated just how much time he spent working in obscurity before he broke. He's been huge for so damn long, that it's easy to forget that he didn't emerge onto the scene, fully formed.

I am so damned impressed that he has chosen to explore his standup years for his memoir. One could argue that most people no longer think of Steve Martin as a standup comedian. However, he has chosen to focus on that. Further proof that Standup Comedy is the highest aspiration a performer can have.

It's not really proof of that. I know this. Still, it's pretty cool.

2007-12-10T20:29:00.000-06:00

I've got a new column up at Effect Magazine. Just scroll down to "Effective Perspective," or you might be able to get the pdf directly by clicking here. It's called "A Chip in the Old Block," and it's all about how we're all going to be cyborgs some day.

2007-11-19T20:20:00.000-06:00

I'm pretty sure I've decided on which one of these will be the "official" head shot, but feel free to weigh in on your preference (these are thumbnails, click them if you want a closer look):

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2007-11-11T00:02:00.000-06:00

Anyone can do any amount of work provided it isn't the work he is supposed to be doing at the moment.
Robert Benchley
US actor, author, & humorist (1889 - 1945)

The fact that I have now spent an hour and a half verifying this quote is empirical proof that this sentiment is absolutely true.

2007-11-08T11:28:00.000-06:00

Hey! I'm the featured clip today on Rooftop Comedy. Go there NOW and check it out:

Pot and Housework Don't Mix:

Phillippines Fear Factor:

2007-10-31T23:47:00.000-05:00

100-Word Story About Autumn

“Take the long way home,” she said, and I didn’t know what she meant.

Was it because it was a sunny autumn day? Did she want to witness first-hand that perfect ratio of the leaves that remained in the trees to those that danced in the breeze along the parkways that outlined and followed the bodies of water that lead, not directly, but certainly eventually, to our destination?

Or was she simply a big fan of Supertramp?

The fact that I didn’t know was proof that we either would need a second date, or should never see each other again.

2007-10-31T18:58:00.000-05:00

So, it's Halloween night. Neenie is out with the Peanut and a new neighborhood friend we met one day at the park. The original plan was for Neenie to take both girls out while I stayed home and manned the candy dispensary. However, the Bug was on the cranky side, so I figured I'd at least walk them to the new friend's house. A couple of houses in, it became tragically clear that trick-or-treating was beyond the Bug's ability to cope, so I volunteered to bring her home and keep her with me while I waited for the doorbell to ring.

We live across the street from a cemetary, so we don't get a lot of trick-or-treaters. I imagine I'll spend most of my time right here on the couch, the Bug next to me, watching Bride of the Monster. Gosh, I hope it doesn't scare her too much. I'd hate for her to develop a rubber octopus phobia.

2007-10-12T16:08:00.000-05:00

You may not know this about me, but I've been a longstanding (and yes, on occasion longsuffering) Paul McCartney fan since I was a child. Here's his latest video:

Most of the time when Paul is being "cute" it just smacks of trying too hard and I feel bad for him. This time, I had a goofy smile on my face the whole time. This might be the most adorable thing Paul has ever done. And yes, I am aware that that might be the queerest thing I've ever typed.

Whatever -- All I can say is good on ya, Paul.

2007-10-12T12:10:00.000-05:00

Found this on Cynical-C. It's a beauty pageant contestant doing the theme from Star Wars on the trumpet, complete with interpretive dance. Watch it all the way through.

I don't care how much it hurts. Watch it all the way through.

Don't be a baby. Watch it all the way through.

2007-10-02T12:40:00.000-05:00

Here's a little something to get you in the spirit of the season:

Vlad the E-Mailer

TO: service@HarkerRest.com
FROM: vlad@t-vanianet.com
RE: Wrong casket

I recently purchased the oak-finish RestfulPeace Deluxe from your Web site. But what received was not what I ordered. It is a similar model, but has a large etched design on the lid that was not in the picture on your site. How quickly can it be exchanged?

FROM: mina@HarkerRest.com
TO: vlad@t-vanianet.com
RE: RE: Wrong casket

Dear Sir,
We regret the error. Our Web site showed the Spring 2006 RestfulPeace Deluxe model. The 2007 model has been updated to include the etched cross on the lid. We regret that our Web site was not updated prior to your order. Please complete the Exchange Request form and fax or mail it to us at the address below. You will find the form, along with your receipt and several valuable coupons, packed inside the casket. Again, we are very sorry for any inconvenience.

TO: mina@HarkerRest.com
FROM: vlad@t-vanianet.com
RE: RE: RE: Wrong casket

Inside the casket? I can’t quite get to it at the moment. Isn’t there some other way we could handle it?

FROM: mina@HarkerRest.com
TO: vlad@t-vanianet.com
RE: RE: RE: RE: Wrong casket

I am sorry you're having trouble. This may be better if handled by phone. Please call our customer service line at the number listed below and we would be happy to help you.

TO: mina@HarkerRest.com
FROM: vlad@t-vanianet.com
RE: RE: RE RE: RE: Wrong casket

I tried your customer service line last night and got a recording indicating your office hours to be between 9:00 a.m. and 5:00 p.m. I work overnights. Is there any way we could settle this via e-mail?

FROM: mina@HarkerRest.com
TO: vlad@t-vanianet.com
RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Wrong casket

We regret you are having problems with our system. Due to the danger of fraud we are only able to process exchanges either by telephone or via the paperwork included with the order.

TO: mina@HarkerRest.com
FROM: vlad@t-vanianet.com
RE: YOUR WILL IS MINE

MINA…YOU WILL SEND SOMEBODY TO PICK UP THE CASKET AND REPLACE IT WITH A DIFFERENT MODEL.

YOU WILL

YOU WILL

FROM: mina@HarkerRest.com
TO: vlad@t-vanianet.com
RE: RE: YOUR WILL IS MINE

I will send somebody to pick up the casket immediately.

I will.

I will.

FROM: MinaH, CSR
TO: DRenfield, Shipping Mgr
RE: CUSTOMER TICKET #1031

Please arrange courier delivery and pickup at address attached. Exchange ’07 RPDeluxe w/cross etching for Fall06 model.

As a matter of fact, check to see if we have any left with the optional EternaClear Crystal lid window. This customer has had a hard time and I'd like to upgrade his purchase as a courtesy.

2007-09-29T03:27:00.000-05:00

Dateline: Madison

Okay, so I saw this sign today:

It took me a few hours before I realized that the sign probably meant that you were not supposed to go out and further plug the meter (in Minnesota we use the phrase "time limit" a little more directly). At least I hope that's what it really meant. The alternative is that it is genuinely stating the blindingly obvious.

Also, is the placement of the sticker random, or is it meant to transform the phrase from Vehicles may not remain in these stalls longer than the time limit of the meter into Vehicles may not remain in these stalls longer than the time limit of the me?

What is the time limit of the me, after all?

2007-09-22T01:53:00.000-05:00

So I saw an ad for ExtenZe, the natural male enhancement pill. I've seen these ads for a while. They all imply, in the most exaggerated stage whisper in history, that they can make men larger in the jock.

Obviously, if something sounds too good to be true, it probably isn't. Still, it's all promoted with such a straight face that I just had to know, so I googled the product name, along with the word "fraud," and this was the only link. It's a site that debunks all the other male enhancement scams.

And then it offers its own solution to male enhancement.

2007-09-20T09:30:00.000-05:00

Okay, so the Ziddio video (did they anticipate the cadence of that phrase when they named the site?) is a little wider than is comfortable on this page. It appears to be covering the side menu a little. Apologies. So, I'll just write something now to nudge it further down the page, shall I?

I am at Crackers in Indianapolis this week. If last night's show is any indicator, it should be a fun week.

Did another marathon drive to get here yesterday. Left the house at 4:00 a.m. and made the drive in eleven hours, door to door. I stop a lot. These old bones need to stretch from time to time, and I have the bladder capacity of a nervous german shepard. Fortunately, I don't piddle when showing submission.

I took a leap of faith and took a different route to get here. You see, when I'm planning my route, I am in a constant search of ways to avoid Chicago. Unfortunately, the worst thing about living in Minneapolis is that if you want to head to any point east of Lake Michigan, but north of Dixie, Yahoo! maps will send you through Chicago, which means a) tolls, b) unpredictable traffic and c) tolls. I hate all three of those things (so much that they create cognitive dissonance, apparently).

What I've been doing is driving through Iowa, through Cedar Rapids, Davenport and then across Illinois via Peoria and points East. It adds about 50 miles, but a) there are no tolls, b) it's a delay I can count on, rather than the kind of suprises Chicago traffic offers, and c) there are no tolls.

The other night, Neenie saw me doing my Yahoo! map for this trip and asked why didn't I go through Wisconsin, down to Rockford, IL and then keep going down to Bloomington and then head East? I said, "There's a toll road by Rockford." It sounded less reasonable coming out of my mouth than it had in my head, so I did the Yahoo! map for that route and lo and behold, it was only 30 miles longer than going through Chicago.

And the toll, it turns out, is a dollar.

2007-09-18T20:14:00.000-05:00

New video up on the Media page.

If you wanted, you could even go to Ziddio and give the video a rating and/or comments. Hell, you can share it to Facebook, get a URL to share it with friends, embed it on your own site. The sky is the limit! You get free content and I get free promotion. Everybody wins.

Well, I win a bit more.

2007-09-13T12:02:00.000-05:00

There's a magazine for everything. To look at the cover, it almost appears as though the magazine is written as though it is being published contemporaneously with the actual events of the Civil War, like the film They've Killed President Lincoln. Turns out, no.

Of course, in the South the magazine is known as War Between the States Times.

2007-09-02T14:49:00.000-05:00

Bread in a can.

Judging from the image on the label, it's even got the impression of the can's shape, like cranberry sauce.

2007-08-26T02:32:00.000-05:00

I made friends with the owner's cheery, happy 3-month old grandson tonight. Why was there a baby at a comedy club? It was the comedy club in Bettendorf, that's why. She needed somebody to hold him and I got to hang with a baby for a bit. That's the beauty of a family business.

Never be afraid to hold a baby. Nobody's going to hand you a baby that you can't handle. If there was a chance that you could do anything wrong, nobody's going to hand it over.

2007-08-24T12:28:00.000-05:00

Comedy writer sues over 'Hannah Montana'

A comedy writer named Buddy Sheffield is suing The Walt Disney Co., alleging he came up with the idea for the teen television show "Hannah Montana" but was never compensated.

Sheffield, who has written for "The Smothers Brothers Show," "The Dolly Parton Show" and "In Living Color," says he pitched an idea for a television series called "Rock and Roland" to the Disney Channel in 2001. The story was about a junior high school student who lived a secret double life as a rock star, according to the lawsuit.

Disney Channel officials at first liked the idea, but ultimately passed on it, the lawsuit alleges.

The Disney Channel's "Hannah Montana" is about high school student Miley Stewart, who lives a secret double life as a famous pop star.

"Hannah Montana," starring Miley Cyrus and her father, country singer Billy Ray Cyrus, has generated two hit music CDs and helped sell a great deal of merchandise. Sheffield says he deserves a share of the revenue.

Buddy Sheffield filed the lawsuit in Los Angeles Superior Court on Thursday alleging breach of contract, breach of confidence, unfair competition and unjust enrichment.

Having seen "Hannah Montana," not to mention several other Disney Channel teen-sitcoms, I've been wanting to sue Disney for unjust enrichment, simply on general principle.

I've done a variation of this joke on my Myspace blog before, but here's a quick impression of every director of every sitcom on the Disney Channel: That's great, Carter...terrific stuff, Jawan...Rosalita, terrific work...Rondell, great as always. Now let's take it again everyone, but this time with more mugging. A LOT more mugging."

2007-08-10T02:14:00.000-05:00

My Cub Foods had this model of Pepsi machine a few years back. It's long gone from my Cub, but there rests this example in the vending area of the Super 8 in Burlington, IA. Hell, it might be the same one.

It's difficult to see, but yes, that is a spurt, er, spray of soda erupting from the tip of the bottle he holds at his waist. There's a fine line between blatant and inadvertent sexuality in advertising. I wonder which this is.

2007-07-29T15:51:00.001-05:00

Went to a Reds game today. So THAT'S what Major League Baseball is like. I've just been to Twins games, so I didn't know.

Gorgeous stadium.

Inside and out.

That's MISTER Mr. Red, punk!

2007-07-28T10:45:00.000-05:00

Just saw a commercial for Kellogg's Frosted Mini-Wheats that had the message, "keeps 'em full and keeps 'em focused," meaning kids.

Hey, it could happen. I certainly prefer that to certain other products and advertisements I could mention.

2007-07-26T22:37:00.000-05:00

This isn't a Cincy-related pic. We took it on the way home from a cabin up north in Minnesota.

Yes, I know they're talking about furniture, but it still tickled me.

2007-07-26T17:36:00.000-05:00

Got to Cincy a couple of hours ago, following a 12-hour drive through Iowa, Illinois and Indiana (screw Chicago and its traffic-n-tolls). Shortly into Indiana, I noticed a billboard for Hardee's that read:

MADE FROM SCRATCH BISCUITS
100% ANGUS BEEF THICKBURGERS

Maybe I was punchy from the road, or just too much of a stickler for punctuation*, but for a moment I thought that Indiana had some sort of truth-in-advertising law, and the sign meant that Hardee's Thickburgers were made out of a parts of Angus cows called "scratch biscuits."

[RADIO VOICE] Why pay up to eight dollars in a casual dining restaurant for the same burger you can get from Hardee's for less than four?

BECAUSE THEY'RE MADE OUT OF SCRATCH BISCUITS, THAT'S WHY!

*The sign should have read "MADE-FROM-SCRATCH BISCUITS" or "BISCUITS MADE FROM SCRATCH"

2007-07-24T12:34:00.000-05:00

I leave very early Thursday morning for my maiden voyage to Cincinnati. I'll be featuring for Jimmy Pardo at Go Bananas. I've heard great things about the club, and judging from the names on their calendar, I think it's going to be a great fit (a perfect venue for my re-entry into standup after a month or so off).

I've never been to Cincy, much less Ohio, but I'm looking forward to it. As a matter of fact, I'm going to order 5-way chili here.

Hold the onions, extra cheese.

2007-07-17T12:06:00.001-05:00

I'm not talking about anyone in particular, but it seems like every Gen-X or Gen-Y hipster has to take a moment to pontificate about how terrified they were of clowns as children. Please. You weren't anywhere near that scared of clowns and you know it. I'll grant that clowns have a small component of fear to them; I'll even grant that there is a small minority of children that are genuinely terrified by them, but don't pretend that you were one of them. You know damn well that when you were a kid, you were probably clamoring for one of Bingo's balloon animals, just like 99% of all children anywhere.

Childhood clown fear is to our generation what Woodstock is to the baby boomers. If all the people who claim to have been at Woodstock really were, it would have been ten million mud-caked hippies, instead of 600,000. If all people who claim to have been terrified by clowns as children really were, clowning would have been made illegal by 1978.

2007-07-12T08:48:00.000-05:00

MY 15-month old is in Full Babble Mode. Her words are minimal, but the stream of sound and facial expressions are in full sentences. At day care, she will sit and talk with another toddler, both of them babbling. Do they share an instinctive secret language that all humans know at 15 months and then forget? What are they talking about?

TODDLER 1: I just can't seem to get my mom to pay attention to me...

TODDLER 2: (brief pause) Have you tried biting?

2007-07-11T19:56:00.000-05:00

Graffiti on door of a convenience store bathroom:

If I'd had a pen on me, I would have added ...for Lent.

2007-07-10T15:42:00.002-05:00

I finally figured out how to e-mail phone camera pics to myself. Now, I just need to learn how to take good ones. Bear with me.

And now, some pictures:

This is a giant statue that stands in Riverside Park in my hometown of La Crosse, WI. I believe he is Hiawatha, but I always knew him as The Big Indian. There used to be a pushbutton recording of his voice explaining, among other things, the "indian legend" that states the area is tornado-proof because it is located where three rivers meet (The La Crosse River, The Black River, and the Mississippi). I believe it's even odds that the local tribes were merely screwing with the traders and settlers.

This is the site of the late, lamented Knuckleheads Comedy Club in the Mall of America. The whole wing is a ghost town, with the exception of Hooters, which continues to thrive in it's own little softcore Red-Light District.

2007-07-08T17:50:00.000-05:00

And now, a quick impression of every director of every Disney Channel sitcom:

That's great, but let's try it again, and this time, could you play it a little broader?

2007-07-04T22:11:00.001-05:00

You know, I've been cracking wise about Minnesota fireworks for years, ever since they did the partial legalization, some time around ought-two. It comes in in the Omaha fireworks story:

Now, bear in mind, I live in Minnesota. We just legalized SPARKLERS and we're feeling all dangerous. HEY JIM, I'VE GOT SOME SNAKES!

Turns out, what you can buy here is a shade better than that. I'd never purchased fireworks here and they're really not lame. It's freaking AMAZING for a three year-old. One last-minute trip to Cub, one purchase of a $9.97 Patriot Bag, and I'm Hero of the Beach.

On a completely different tack, KARE 11? Are you out there KARE 11? Good, now listen closely...

[ahem]

FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU IN THE EAR FOR TELLING THE HORRIFIC POOL ACCIDENT STORY WITHOUT ADEQUATE WARNING FOR VIEWERS.

Thank you for your attention.

2007-06-05T20:08:00.000-05:00

As you may know, I did a weird little record called Snaildartha (it should be available as a ZIP download here).

A blogger in Portugal, wrote about it, first looking for a copy -- first checking Amazon, I think, which is flattering. I have used google's translator, which has resulted in what you get when you use a robot to do a human's job. Artificial Intelligence, my ass.

Here's the post where he/she asks about the recording. (Portuguese)

Success! (Portugeuse)

Here's the google translation (some scrolling).

Robots. Feh.

2007-04-26T09:25:00.000-05:00

Come on dude, give me the reins...you're in no condition to ride.

Drunken man parks horse in bank foyer

Is it my imagination, or does the horse have the mildly disgusted, but ultimately tolerant, look of the long-suffering friend of a chronic alcoholic?

2007-04-23T13:50:00.000-05:00

A large group of indignant folks just did this guy a huge favor. I'd never heard of him before, but now, thanks to their petulant walkout, and one member of the group's act of boneheaded vandalism, I have. Now you have as well. He's Mike Daisey. Watch the video and show him some love.

Found at Cynical-C Blog

2007-03-26T09:43:00.000-05:00

Star Tribune asks: Is the Party Over in La Crosse?

LA CROSSE, WIS. -- It was early yet, a little past 9 p.m. Saturday, and nobody seemed too worried about the cops on bar patrol, armed with the city's new anti-intoxication ordinance, or the dark, mist-shrouded river just three sloping blocks away.
Not Troy Boylen, 22.

"Honestly, nobody walks down to the river," he said with loud and earnest authority.

He pulled himself up and continued in a voice only slightly slurred:

"In La Crosse, experienced drinkers walk uphill."...

Apparently, there's been a rash of college guys disappearing after a night of drinking, presumably wandering into the Mississippi River and drowning, though folks haven't ruled out a serial killer. By a rash, I mean eight in the past ten years. That's .8 guys a year (which is a multiple of .08, the legal limit for blood alcohol content while driving -- coincidence or cosmic joke?).

In response, the city has settled on an increased police presence and stronger public intoxication ordinances. I prefer this idea to their original idea, which was to construct a large drunk-proof fence down by the river. Personally, I think they'd be better off with Troy Boylen's solution: walk uphill.

The only problem there though is that if they're really drunk, they may continue walking uphill so long that they wind up falling off the back side of Grandad's Bluff.

2007-03-19T21:25:00.000-05:00

Nobody's bought the house, so we've decided to take a few "sell this house" steps (i.e., small, relatively inexpensive, but apparently vital changes that will make what is essentially the exact same house suddenly irresistable to buyers). The first "sell this house" step for us -- update the bathroom, and the first step of that is to replace the vanity/sink. Guess who got on-the-job self-training?

All the way through the process, I felt wildly out of my depth, but I got it all installed by lunchtime on Tuesday. Swelling with the kind of pride that can only go before a fall, I took one last look at the installation. I noticed there was still a small drip where I'd hooked up the hose that runs from the water supply out of the wall to the faucet. I got out my trusty vise grip and gave it one more turn.

And that's when the valve broke off and water started spraying everywhere.

You know, I've seen things like this happen on television and in movies. I wish I'd paid better attention to the solution, but I guess I was always too busy laughing. I tried to get the valve back on to the small bit of pipe to which it was attached (it has a name, but I'm saving that for later), but it just wouldn't get on there. Water was starting to pool in the bathroom and I could hear it dripping through the floor into the basement. I realized that I had to get downstairs and shut off the supply, so it was time to take a leap of faith. I caught one lucky break there, because once I just let it go, the jet of water shot over the floor and into the bathtub, which is conveniently located (in this case anyway) directly across from the vanity.

I sprinted downstairs and went to the hot water heater (thank God/Zeus/Cthulu it was the hot water supply, because I doubt I'd have remembered where the main water shutoff was) and took a shot that the Big Red Handle on one of the pipes coming out of it would shut off the water supply. It did. There is no sweeter sound than the sound of an unplanned spray of water coming to an end.

Once I got the bathroom and basement mopped up, I took stock of the situation. The pipe coming out of the wall (again, it has a name that I am still saving for later) appeared to be heavily corroded. The entire lower half of the threaded area had simply disintegrated. Hey, water's a solvent, right?

I had no idea where to begin. Here is this, at this point unnamed, length of pipe that is attached to another pipe that is inside the wall, and it's crumbling away. Pipes coming out of the wall have their own mystique, their own sense of permanence. I can figure out a lot of things, but once stuff starts being inside walls, they might as well be in Narnia.

About thirty minutes later, I phoned Neenie and gave her the news, dripping (heh) with I-TOLD-YOU-I'M-OUT-OF-MY-DEPTH-WITH-THIS-SHIT innuendo. She called her dad, who said it was fixable and that I should call him.

So I called my father-in-law to see what he had to say about the situation. I told him that the threads were basically gone from the pipe that had held the valve, and that I wasn't sure I could get the pipe out from the wall. Was it possible to shear off the corroded part and re-cut new threads onto the pipe? Yes it was, he said. I just had to go and get a pipe die, whatever that was.

Okay, so off to the neighborhood hardware store I went. Now, I'm not an exclusive "think globally, shop locally" guy. I can't afford to be. Most times when I know what I need, I heed the siren song of high volume and low prices and head on down to Menard's or Home Depot. But, when I need merchandise and information, you better believe I'm heading down to Parkway Hardware. Sometimes I feel a little guilty, since most times the information I need is "what kind of screw do I use for this?", and the small business owner winds up making about a buck and a half.

They directed me to the plumbing area, and I noticed that they actually had replacements for the length of pipe that was damaged. Said length of pipe, by the way, is called a "nipple." -- further proof that performing plumbing work forces you to silence your inner middle-schooler (Hell, the last bit of plumbing repair I did involved a ballcock for Christ's sake). I wondered for a bit why it was called a "nipple," until I realized that it must be because there are always two of them positioned next to each other, one for hot water and the other for cold.

You'd think the cold water nipples would be a little bit larger, but no.

They even had a tool called a nipple wrench. Seventh-grade Matt giggled mercilessly in the back of my head as I put that in my basket. I also grabbed a replacement for the valve that had snapped off, a small pipe wrench, and a replacement nipple (stop that laughing you little shit!). I brought my purchases to the counter and, describing my situation, asked the guy if this looked like everything I needed. He told me that I shouldn't need the nipple wrench (awwwww said seventh-grade Matt), since the pipe wrench was designed to grab hold of the nipple just fine (heeheehee). He cautioned me, though, that I might not be able to get it out of the wall, since sometimes in older houses, fittings could be such that pieces were effectively welded together.

Back at the house, I tried to use the pipe wrench to free the piece. I cranked and cranked at it, but it wouldn't budge. Naturally, I was a little gun-shy, since my last show of strength had caused all this trouble in the first place, but I became convinced that what hardware store guy warned me about had come true. The nipple was there forever and ever, aw man.

I went back to Parkway hardware, nipple in hand (snicker), and asked if they sold a tool to cut new thread onto a pipe. He looked throughout the store. Yes, they did sell tools that could cut thread, but they didn't sell them for plumbing. He told me to go to Park Supply, a plumbing wholesaler over by the West Bank, and that they might have them available.

I got in the car and thought to myself, do I really want to go be a novice in a roomful of people who do this stuff for a living?. I briefly considered checking Home Depot. It's a bigger store right? Presumably, they have a wider selection, but then I figured that while Home Depot might have one, a plumbing supply store was sure to have one. I might as well go for the sure thing.

Turns out, Park Supply doesn't sell pipe dies either. The guy behind the counter suggested I head to Minneapolis Hardware on 2nd St. N and check with them. I got to Minneapolis Hardware (by this time it was about 3:30) and was informed that they didn't sell dies for plumbing either and that I should check at, wait for it, Home Depot.

I was beginning to think that somewhere in Minneapolis, there was a plumber that was about to be very happy.

I got back into the car and called Neenie. She told me her dad was going to stop off on his way home from work to see if he could help, so I figured I might as well wait until he could eyeball the situation. Maybe there was a solution I hadn't considered.

Dad-in-law was waiting for me when I arrived and we went in to take a look. He suggested we take the vanity away from the wall so that we could give the nipple a good crank (ahehahehaheh...please, stop. I can't take it...). Turns out, more torque was all it needed. A couple of good yanks on the pipe wrench from my father-in-law and the nipple was free. He handed it to me and I stared at it for a good half-minute, the way you stare at a hangnail or a sliver after you give it that last tug and it comes out. Not so tough now are you?

You might think I had lost face with my father-in-law through this whole thing. Not at all. He knows I didn't grow up around tools and hardware and other manly pursuits. Personally, I think he was impressed that I hadn't called a plumber when the damn thing broke off in the first place. Besides, once the nipple was out, I knew exactly what to do from there on, and he went home. Neenie told me later that when her mother spoke to her dad and asked him why he didn't stay until it was all done, and he said he was confident I could handle it from there. I think that might be my diploma.

So yeah, nipples.

2007-03-06T15:36:00.000-06:00

The stomach flu is making its way through the house. It's gotten the Bug, the Peanut and Neenie. I can only assume I'm next. If for some reason I don't make it, I think it appropriate for my last message to be a bunch of trained ~~monkeys~~ chimps pretending to be a psychedelic band.

By the way, doesn't it seem like they must have somehow bound the Ed Sullivan ~~monkey's~~ chimp's hands in that position? Creepy, I know. On the other hand, he's probably dead by now, so watching the video is like wearing vintage fur -- guilt free.

2007-02-20T11:32:00.000-06:00

I'm amused that the Wallpaper Now! video clip is played nearly four times as often as Time/Fireflies on my Myspace page. It's not even that people are playing one, thinking it sucks and then choosing to not play the other. If that were the case, you'd think Time/Fireflies would be the one with more plays, since that's the first one on the list.

Nope, it's probably because the word "Nazi" is in the description for Wallpaper Now! People love Nazis.

Oh, by the way, I'm at ACME tonight (Tuesday). One night only this week -- a fill-in show. Kjell Bjorgen is headlining. If you work in hospitality, bring a pay stub and you can get in free. Cold comfort for the hell that is working in hospitality, but at least it's something.

Also, it's Mardi Gras tonight. I'll bring the beads.

Fat Tuesday is ostensibly a chance to indulge in all your vices the night before Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent. However, I think one could argue that the people who will be out partying tonight are the least likely to go in for the smudge-fest tomorrow. Oh sure, they might have dirt on their forehead, but it won't have gotten it at church.

Don't you think that if you participate in Mardi Gras, you should be required to also go to church the next day? Of course, you couldn't prove you were going to go this year, but you could provide proof that you went last year. Then you can get as drunk and/or naked as you want without fear of arrest, provided you can show a receipt.

2007-02-08T20:06:00.000-06:00

It's a banner day.

My dad forwarded an email to me, and I actually agreed with everything about it. Usually, our political differences wind up with me posting something snarky like this.

Click here to see what my dad sent me today. It's a stitch (warning: sound).

The great thing is, it's by the ACLU. I wonder if my dad realizes that!

2007-01-31T20:23:00.000-06:00

I'm about to join the dark side and sell a T-shirt. Here's the final mock-up of the shirt (opens in new window).

Theoretically, the shirt should appeal to the smart set because it references the firefly joke, and to the "Git R Dun" crowd because it has the word "ass" on it.

Everybody wins!

2007-01-23T20:43:00.000-06:00

Watching the State of the Union Address, I'm struck by the generally creepy nature of the Bush administration. From the synchronized water-drinking of Bush and Cheney, to Condi Rice's Jack-Nicholson-in-The-Shining stare, to Michael Chertoff's, well, Michael Chertoff-ness, the whole cabal just gives me the willies.

And not the Slick Willies like we had in the nineties.

2006-12-29T16:02:00.000-06:00

There's a new trend with the kids called "ghost riding the whip" which is when somebody jumps out of a slowly moving car and dances around to some strain of hip-hop I've never heard of. Of course, people have died, so we've got to do something about it.

Here's what I'm going to do about it; I'm going to post this very amusing video:

Don't ghost ride the whip. You'll hit something and mess up your grill. Not that grill. The one on your vehicle. Oh, and maybe that other grill too, now that I think of it.

2006-12-20T14:42:00.000-06:00

A woman mistakenly put a baby through an X-ray machine at Los Angeles International Airport.

Man, people will do anything to avoid a copay, won't they?

2006-12-05T22:44:00.000-06:00

I always felt bad that the online version of Snaildartha: The Story of Jerry the Christmas Snail was the crappy one where the vocals drop out in the fourth or fifth chapter. Anyway, it was remastered last year and (re)released on Innova Records... I've heard tell that it did fairly well, but I really have no idea. I am about as disconnected from the mechanics of this project as I've ever been.

Now it is available for free download.

I'm going to let it speak for itself. Merry Christmas.

2006-10-31T10:44:00.000-06:00

I'm going to be out of town on Election Day (plowing my way to Dickinson, ND, and then on to Denver), so I went to City Hall yesterday and voted. There's something very liberating about knowing that there is no way I could change my vote now, even if I wanted to. The constant barrage of ads that already started their ramp-up Sunday morning can have absolutely no effect on me, other than my influence on word-of-mouth. I'm virtually immune!

Now, if any horrible information about my candidates suddenly surfaces, I hope you guys will have my back come Election Day -- and I mean something really serious. Not breaking news that they are for or against granting in-state college tuition rates to an apparent swarm of illegal aliens (hey, that's the last ad I saw). No, I mean literal skeletons in the closet, text message transcripts clutched in their boney hands. It could happen. It's never the ones that seem to be the most likely, and I didn't vote for any of them.

I almost hope one of the folks I didn't vote for would show up at my door. It would be fun to invite them in for coffee and take up an hour of their time, just to tell them at the end I already voted. I'd enjoy watching those crazy eyes dart around as they calculate how many hours left until Election Day.

Oh, and if you're thinking of doing this for convenience, just remember. No sticker this way.

2006-10-27T09:43:00.000-05:00

Check out my pal Brian's video response to the GOP's recent scare ad about how if you don't vote for them the ~~filthy arabs~~ terrorists will kill you.

2006-10-18T08:36:00.000-05:00

Metro Transit has told a bus driver he doesn't have to drive a bus with an ad for Lavender magazine.

A city bus driver who complained about a gay-themed ad got official permission not to drive any bus that carries that ad, according to an internal memo confirmed Tuesday by Metro Transit.
Transit authorities call it a reasonable accommodation to the driver's religious beliefs...

More accurate would be to call it a reasonable accommodation to the driver's disability. Thank God for the ADA!
Also, does this mean gay drivers don't have to drive busses with ads for The Patriot?

2006-10-11T06:35:00.000-05:00

Forgot to mention that I'm at ACME this week. Okay, I didn't forget exactly; I just wasn't sure I was going to have any new material to make it worth it for anyone who's seen me before to come out. I met with a financial advisor once who told me that the sad state of my career is a marketing problem, not a talent problem. I think she may have been right.

Anyway come one and come all. Last night was a fascinating exercise in throwing shit against the wall to see what sticks. A surprising amount hung in there, so I'll be scraping those hunks off, putting them in my bag and mopping up all the other piles from the floor, never to be seen again. I'm not afraid of a poop metaphor.

2006-09-23T19:38:00.000-05:00

Faulkton, SD tonight. 9:30 at the Steak House if you happen to be in town. No, I did not come in to town on jackalope, though some day, perhaps I will.

2006-09-22T22:18:00.000-05:00

Ghost Rider 2: Goes Wild does not deal with a comic book character, but the only way it could be more surreal, is if the rider had a flaming skull for a head. I dare you to not be compelled by footage of a guy in all black breaking traffic laws at high speed in Sweden on a motorcycle. It's 52 minutes long, and it takes five or ten before it hits you exactly what is happening.

I have no other words for what it's about. It's just one of those things you stumble across online that beg you simply show it and say, "hey, somebody did this."

2006-09-19T11:51:00.000-05:00

After you get a vasectomy, you are supposed to go to a diagnostic clinic twice to provide a semen sample. "Literature" and a private room are provided. They ask you to go to this clinic first at eight weeks following the procedure, and again at ten weeks. I finally got around to going in for my first one last week, eleven weeks following the procedure.

This is proof that I will procrastinate for anything.

2006-09-09T13:50:00.000-05:00

I'm headlining the Potowatomi casino tonight in Downtown Milwaukee. Sometimes it's a Friday-Saturday room, but this week it's just Saturday. However, I still had to come down Thursday to do radio Friday morning. I had a full day Thursday, and then, because my wife is in New York for her job, I had to drop off the girls at my in-laws' house in Ham Lake (gateway to Blaine). It was 9 p.m. before I got out of town.

It's been a while since I've done a late-night drive. It was a challenging one, mainly due to the fact that the Indy drive exhausted about 22 hours worth of iTunes material. Considering that I have just over twelve days' worth of audio on my computer, it's hard to believe that I had to grab West Wing DVDs to listen to on the drive. Fortunately, I have wi-fi in my room, so I've been able to pull material from the ether in the form of podcasts and other assorted downloads, so I'm covered for the drive home.

I arrived at the hotel at about 2 a.m. Friday morning. They gave me a whirlpool suite because the other rooms were sold out. This means that there is an entire room that I don't need. I can't invite my brother and his girlfriend to hang out, because it's a non-smoking room and my brother smokes like one of those smokestacks from the early days of the Industrial Revolution. Last night, I sat in the other room and watched television for a half-hour just to be able to say I used it.

I was picked up Friday morning for radio at 7:30. Unlike other times when you're picked up by the club manager, or a door guy or this week's MC, they sent a limo service. It wasn't a stretch limo or anything -- it was a town car, but still, I had a driver. Weird. I tipped him $5, and agonized about whether it was enough, until my brother pointed out to me later that there are probably a lot of times where he doesn't get any tip at all.

The hotel is across the street from the Grand Avenue mall in downtown Milwaukee, so I went to the food court for dinner last night. The people working the counter at the Chinese place were literally calling people over, pushing samples like carnival barkers, but with a charming accent instead of a spooky rasp. I tried the barbequed chicken and the orange chicken and realized there was no way I was not having Chinese by this point. It was very satisfying. They were still harranguing people to try their food as I left. I caught sight of the guy at the counter of the Greek place when I walked by. He looked positively miserable because the Chinese folks were getting all the customers before they even got to his place. I wanted to go up to him and say, "dude -- gyro meat cuts up just fine into small pieces. Fight fire with fire." On the other hand, maybe he usually does give out samples, but just ran out of toothpicks.

After dinner, my original plan was to get a bottle of wine and drink it while sitting in the whirlpool, but that just seemed a little too Will and Grace, so I picked up a small bottle of vodka and some orange juice and drank screwdrivers while sitting in the whirlpool. Why I thought the wine was the faggy part, I don't know.

The problem with solo time in whirlpools is that when you're sitting in one, that's pretty much all you're doing. It faced away from the television, and the motor was too noisy for me to watch a DVD or play music from my laptop (unless I used headphones, but I wasn't going to risk having the laptop that close to churning water). It was relaxing, but there was an undercurrent (no pun intended) of grim obligation, too.

I was asleep by 10 p.m., which may be the earliest I've gone to sleep in, literally, years (perhaps decades). Woke up at 7:30 this morning, and now, here I sit, typing away on my bed. I've got one of those lap-tables with the cusion on the bottom. One would think this would be comfortable, but it's not. I think I'll be returning to the desk once I'm done with this. However, like the whirlpool, I had to try it out.

Who knew unsolicited luxury could be such a challenge?

2006-08-15T10:58:00.000-05:00

It seems X-Rays won't be able to detect shoes with explosive liquids in them.

A new radio commercial:

MAN #1: Boy, this sure is a long wait through airport security, but you seem to be doing just fine.

MAN #2: Hey man, I'm jellin'

TSA GUARD: Excuse me, sir. Would you step over here please?

2006-08-12T18:08:00.000-05:00

Had lunch at St. Jude's Sweet Corn Festival in Cedar Rapids yesterday. It's basically a mini-carnival right there on the church grounds. It's amusing to me that it's actually rife with sin. The Seven Deadly, as a matter of fact:

- The festival crawling with scantily-clad girls: lust.

- That time when you think, "hey check out the hottie," and it turns out to be a dude: anger.

- The midway, complete with people trying to win the best possible prizes for as little money as possible: avarice.

- Even after seeing other people lose repeatedly, you still think you can beat the game: pride.

- In most cases, of course, you wind up with a choice between a blue-dyed rabbit's foot, a rubber pencil and a Def Leppard keychain from the shelf of shame: more anger.

- Hot dogs, chilli dogs, sloppy joes, pulled pork sandwiches, baked beans, cole slaw, pie a la mode, and three ears of corn (dipped in butter, natch) for a buck: gluttony.

- Seeing that the guy next to you got a bigger ear than you did: envy.

- Finally returning to the hotel and collapsing into a food coma: sloth.

It's not fund-raising -- it's entrapment!

2006-08-11T00:56:00.000-05:00

Separated at Birth?

Michael Chertoff:

John Waters:

If only SPY magazine was still publishing...

2006-07-21T12:11:00.000-05:00

The Germans are known for being a pretty humorless bunch, which doesn't really make since, since German has quite possibly the funniest looking words of all. Seriously -- Dumbkopf? Glockenspiel? Hintergrundinformationen?

And yet, if you use Babel Fish to translate a joke, such as:

Why did the chicken cross the road?

To get to the other side!

You get:

warum kreuzte das Huhn die Straße?

Damit er an die andere Seite gelangen kann!*

Not a funny-looking word in the whole damn thing (well, "gelangen" is kind of funny). Maybe it's because the English word "chicken" is one of our funnier words (hello "K" sound) and the German word for "chicken", "huhn", is not funny at all.

That's where it hinges, I think. Maybe way back when the Germans developed their language, they didn't find chickens funny, and if you don't find chickens funny, then there's really no hope for you.

*You do have to tweak the english version a bit to read "so that it can arrive at the other side!" to get the grammar right.

2006-07-12T12:51:00.000-05:00

The summer issue of Larson Allen's EFFECT Magazine is up on their site. As usual, it includes my Effective Perspective column. This one is about non-profit compensation -- oh the hilarity!

Here's an archive of all issues. I've written the Effective Perspective column for every one since Summer 2002. It's a different audience than I usually "play" to (namely the business/investor crowd), so it's been a fun way to stretch other creative muscles. Plus they pay me. Everybody wins! Especially me.

2006-07-11T21:39:00.000-05:00

Yet another prediction of mine is coming true..

SAN ANTONIO, July 11 (UPI) -- U.S. funeral directors are changing the gothic image of funeral homes to reflect the more positive image of death held by most baby boomers.

San Antonio's Mission Park Funeral Chapels & Cemeteries chief Robert Tips told the San Antonio Express-News that as baby boomers become their primary customers, the U.S. funeral industry has shifted to a "celebrating life" mode...

I've been saying for years that death was going to be the Boomers' next big reinvention. Frankly, I'm surprised it's starting this early. Watch for the Time magazine cover story featuring an image of a crowded graveyard and the headline Where Will We Put Them All?

Plus, what's this about them having a "positive" image of death? You mean the way many of them seem to live in complete denial of it?

2006-06-26T08:45:00.000-05:00

This Friday, I'm having a vasectomy, or as I like to call it the Big Snip. That's actually a misnomer, since there are two snips involved, but my testicles are a package deal, so I think the singular is justified.

The first medical professional I asked about this was my GP at my checkup a month ago. He told me that fewer and fewer GPs are doing vasectomies. He said he had done one once and that I definitely did not want him to do mine. This was my first appointment with this doctor, and I found his candor refreshing. I have a feeling that my previous doctor, a grandfatherly type who often teetered on the precipice between folksy and dottering, would have told me he was able to do them, regardless of where the technique resided in his skill set. Give me a doctor that knows his limitations any day.

Before you can get a vasectomy, you have to go in for a consultation. First, they want to make absolutely sure that you really want to do this. They tell you repeatedly that, reversal procedures notwithstanding, you should consider this a permanent change. Next comes the video.

My favorite part of the video was the scene where a bunch of guys are hanging out at a pizza joint after a (heh) softball game. Our hero mentions that he's thinking about having a vasectomy. His buddies then proceed to bust his chops mercilessly, impugning his masculinity, asking if he's having a sex change, etc. Seriously, who does this? Who would have the (heh) balls to do this? Clearly, the video is meant to address the fears men may have about the reactions of their friends and family, but all the video managed to do was momentarily insert fears where there were no fears before.

Are guys really worried about a vasectomy somehow making them less of a man? I suppose there must be. I don't see it myself -- if anybody ever implied that to me, I'd just say, I'm going to have a doctor make incisions in my scrotum, slice the tubes inside, tie them off, and stitch up the wounds. Then I fully expect to spend the weekend with my testicles the size of grapefruits -- and that makes me a wuss how?

Look, if you really want to make men feel better about it, how about offering to let them get a tattoo at the same time? Flames? 8-balls? I'd go for fuzzy dice myself. Of course, they'd just have to tattoo the dice -- the fuzzy part kind of takes care of itself. Not that I would need that anyway. I'm completely cool with my masculinity before, during and after this. Moreso even.

Hell, for the first time in over twenty years, I'm going to wear an athletic supporter. I haven't done that since the first week of high school gym.

2006-06-19T08:59:00.000-05:00

Lileks gives the new Guthrie a good going-over. Of course, by "good" I mean "merciless."

While the new Guthrie was being built , I saw it from the window of a high-rise and thought to myself, is IKEA opening a store downtown? Why would they put it there?

2006-06-08T11:53:00.000-05:00

Hey, I'm headlining the Minnesota Comedy Club this weekend. Come on out.

Yes, I mean you.

Now I'm off to the Apple Store to see about the keyboard. Apparently, the numbers rubbing off is a problem a lot of people have been reporting, which is both alarming and reassuring. I'm alarmed at Apple's shoddy workmanship, but I'm reassured that I haven't done anything in particular to cause or exacerbate the problem. An irrational fear I know. It's not as though I've got some sort of corrosive acid seeping from my fingertips -- and let's face it, if I did I wouldn't be a comedian. I'd be a Spider-Man villain.

2006-06-01T11:48:00.000-05:00

I had my first checkup in about three years last week. I'm here to report that the hernia check procedure has changed. Rather than going under the "boys" and pressing his fingers into the space at the bottom of the pelvic bone and doing the "turn your head and cough" bit, he went over the boys and checked on either side of Mr. Happy. He didn't give me any explanation as to why he did it this way.

There are three possible reasons for the change:

1. Maybe this method is equivalent to the under-the-boys method, but I just haven't encountered it until now -- the Coke vs. Pepsi of medical procedures. Maybe they're equally valid, but not equally common and my doctor's the kind of maverick that likes to keep things interesting. Maybe it's a regional variation. Maybe my doctor learned from the Pennsylvania Dutch.

2. As men age, their boys have a tendency to drop. Maybe mine have dropped so far that they cannot be maneuvered around without actual cupping and holding, and nobody wants to add that sensation to an already uncomfortable moment.

3. This is simply the new way to do it, and I've never had a doctor young enough to have learned to do it that way.

A young man came up to me after a show (I think he was an EMT) and said that the over-the-boys method was what he had been taught, so it appears that #3 is the reason.

Jesus, guys. Put out a press release, would you? It's an awkward enough moment for us both without you changing it up without warning.

2006-05-30T16:10:00.000-05:00

Come see me this week at ACME. More blathering this week as the jokes get set. Some new ones this week, but no new Wallpaper Now! or Firefly. Just me and my snark. Watch me work it out as the week goes.

Also, if you check out ACME's Myspace page, you'll notice they used a picture for me they found on the deathless beast that is the Internet. The first person to email me (matt@ this Web site) with the URL they ganked the picture from wins a free copy of my CD. Good luck. Let's see what the power of Google can do when mixed with my miniscule fan base.

2006-05-15T16:01:00.000-05:00

The Boise airport has free Wi-Fi, so here I am, waiting for my flight to board (in about an hour), and for once, not really feeling that put out. This is what I'd be doing in the condo anyway, except I wouldn't have the parade of humanity passing by.

The nice thing about airports is that you don't get too wide a range of people. Chances are, if you can afford to take a flight somewhere, rather than Greyhound, you've done something right in your life (or something wrong if you can afford first class). I'm no classist, but the 900-lb elephant in our collective room is that a lot of poor folks are that way at least to some extent as a result of the choices they have made in life. That tendency can make them difficult to take when you're thrown into the mix with them. Not that wealthy people don't present their own challenges, but you don't usually see them unless you happen to be serving them food or drinks, or happen to be within earshot of their cell phone conversation with one of their underlings.

There's a family in the waiting area. Mom, dad, brother and sister. Sister is probably about 2-3 and brother is probably about 4-5. The same distance between my girls. They were squirmy and whiny a few minutes ago, and dad was not coming off well with his frustrated responses. Fortunately, they realized that there aren't very many people at the gate yet, and that there is a long expanse of carpeting that they can race back and force across. The kids are squealing happily, running to a bank of seats, climbing up and then immediately getting off and running back to mom & dad.

Unfortunately, somebody just sat in their target area, so that's the end of that. Back to whining. Ah well, I have a laptop, headphones and Harvey Danger. Plus, I'm right next to an outlet, so no worries about the battery. Life is about as good as it can get in an airport -- at least without an expense account anyway.

Ah, the interloper has left the target seat. Thank God. The race is back on.