happy birthday, jon's dad

Cliché #2143: Musical artists who say that if they could pick one MTV Video Music Award to win, it'd be the viewer's choice award.

When Lil' Bow Wow dropped the first word from his name last year because "he was growing up and wasn't a kid anymore," he failed to realize that his name is still fuckin' BOW WOW.

I cannot respect any grown man who wears a dress shirt with Marvel prints on it.

—Hey, I'm wearing a shirt with "college" written on it. I'm cool!

No, you aren't. You're a moron who paid for a shirt with "college" written on it. If you must tribute Animal House, do it properly.

Hannity's Pro-American Song Club <— HOT


Recently, I visited Washington D.C.

It was Monday.

I was supposed to have coffee with Sima that afternoon.

In the summer, the eastern seaboard seemingly becomes a giant Crock Pot, slow cooking human bodies until nightfall relieves them of ever-present sweat. Humid weather is not particularly pleasant for a heavy sweater like me.

Earlier that day, I had ventured all over the D.C. area — College Park, Maryland, Georgetown, Howard University. By the time I exited the Federal Triangle Metro station, I was not very dry (or clean, for that matter).

Sima works at the Federal Treasury building, which is located right next to the White House.

As I was walking toward the Treasury, my underwear started to chafe. I adjusted it from outside my pants and kept walking, pausing to re-adjust it from time to time, as it continued to chafe.

I now know why people put talcum powder in their pants.

Most tourists loiter outside the front of the White House for photo-ops. Arriving at the Treasury early, I found a bench on the considerably less popular right side of the House (stage left) and sat down, a dense growth of gated trees before me.

My feet hurt as a result of extensive walking that day, so I took off my sandals.


About a minute later, I felt the inner-thigh chafing again.

Goddammit, I thought.

I looked around. No one in sight. Determined to fix the situation once and for all, I stood up, unzipped, and stuck my hand through my fly to directly adjust my underwear when

—What are you doing?

There were two security guards hiding among the trees, dressed in black with bulletproof vests on, automatic firearms in hand.

—I'm…adjusting my underwear…it-it's…chafing…
—Take your hand outta your pants, said one of the guards.
—Can I see some identification please? asked the other.

Identification? I thought. WHAT? Why do you need to see my identification?

When the person asking you has a gun, however, you don't refuse his request.

I pulled out my driver's license and handed it over to him through the fence.

—So you're from California, eh?

He looked at my license, then at me (…and my bare feet), and then muttered to his partner:

—Fuckin' hippies…

Did he just call me a hippie? I thought.

I was in disbelief. I mean, I don't think much of the president, but…a hippie? At least call me "passive liberal scum," if you must. I think he thought I was going to piss on the White House lawn or make some lewd gesture at the White House with my penis, when all I really wanted to do was sit comfortably on a bench and smoke cigarettes.

—All right, get outta here! he said, handing my license back.

The two guards gave me dirty looks and walked away.

The fuck were you two hiding in the trees for? I thought. The president's on vacation! The fuck are you protecting?

I put my sandals back on and re-located to the benches surrounding a nearby statue of General Sherman, pausing only once to adjust my underwear.


At its peak, the Chiquita [banana] song was played more than 350 times a day on American radio stations. The lyrics have been rewritten several times, and the changes reflect Americans' improved understanding of bananas.
The Wall Street Journal 08.20.03

Next year, it'll be XgamesX.

Trading Jennifer Love Hewitt for Claire Forlani and an old Jackie Chan for an even older Jackie Chan, The Tuxedo magically transforms into The Medallion.

—Instead of a futuristic tuxedo that gives him special powers, what about…..an ancient medallion?
—I like it!

Sony isn't even trying.

POP-ED: Pepsi Vanilla
Pepsi has always been like Coke's little sibling, the Jan to Coke's Marcia. It always wants to do what Coke does. When Coke introduced Tab Clear, Pepsi introduced Crystal Pepsi. When Coke introduced Diet Coke with Lemon, Pepsi introduced Pepsi Twist. Now Pepsi introduces Pepsi Vanilla, its answer to Vanilla Coke.

The verdict? Not enough vanilla. I know its slogan is "the not-so-vanilla vanilla," but Pepsi Vanilla tastes too much like regular Pepsi. I felt like I was drinking the Pepsi backwash of a friend who just took a swig to wash down some vanilla ice cream. At least in Vanilla Coke, the vanilla is easily discernible. Pepsi Vanilla reminds me of Dr. Pepper Red Fusion, which purports to be an exciting new flavor of Dr. Pepper despite tasting more like regular Dr. Pepper.

—i've concluded that
—conservatives have no sense of design

—fuck you
—its true
—but fuck you
—at least we arent a bunch of artfags

Exhibits A-G
The American Spectator
Boycott Hollywood
Michael Savage
The New American
Right Wing News


I saw a commercial for Dawn Plus Hand Care, a dishwashing liquid that contains unique skin-vitalizing proteins so you can clean the toughest grease and revitalize your skin's surface at the same time.

I like the convenience of two-in-one products. Why shampoo and then condition when you can do both at once? Why put in extra effort when you don't have to? Whitening toothpaste with mouthwash, peanut butter and jelly in the same jar, Kleenex with lotion — I like how consumer products manufacturers think.

Nickelodeon has licensed Spongebob Squarepants out to every fuckin' consumer product imaginable except the most obvious one:


freddy is kicking his ass
—'cause he's in
jason's dream
—that's how freddy kills, he kills you in your dream
—it's cool 'cause freddy tranquilizes jason to get him dreaming
—the kids are smart enough to take sleeping jason back to crystal lake
—the main girl goes to sleep so she can dream and get into the battle
—the way she's thinking is, if jason wins, at least they have him in crystal lake, and not in elm street
—if freddy is winning, then at least jason has home field advantage
—what she wants to do is bring freddy back to reality so jason can start beating him
—jason and freddy fight
—freddy is winning
—jason gets some shots too
—finally, the girl brings freddy back into reality
—and jason starts whupping ass
here is the end…
—basically, the kids figure out that freddy is afraid of fire, and jason is afraid of water
—they kinda have them fighting in some bridge, you know, those little bridges where you jump off to swim
—the kids put gas, and burn
—the bridge
—freddy and jason both beat the shit out of each other
—then the bridge and whole lake explodes, both going in the water
—but wait
—there's more
—the kids are kinda sighing but then you see someone carrying the machete
—you think jason is alive, but it's freddy that has the machete
—i forgot
—to mention that jason cut freddy's arm off with his machete
—so anyway, freddy has the machete and is gonna kill the sighing kids
—from the back, jason uses freddy's torn arm, the one with the knives, and stabs freddy in the back going thru his front
—jason falls back into the water
—and freddy is gurgling blood and drops the machete
—the girl gets the machete and cuts his head off
—he falls to water
—the kids leave
—the next morning, it pans toward the lake
—and jason comes out of the lake…..
—carrying freddy's head
—the camera zooms in to freddy's head as he winks…


Have you seen the latest Subway commercial?

—For seven months, we ate nothing but Subway! proclaim Sherman and Herman, two black twins.

Seven months.

They might as well have been in prison for seven months. At least in there, the state pays for your bland repetitive meals.

Do the parents of twins actually think it's cute if their children have rhyming names? They couldn't have been Sherman and Tyrone?

I want to name my firstborn Puke. I like the guttural sound of the word puke. PUKE. Plus, it's an androgynous moniker. If it's a boy, Puke. If it's a girl, Puke. Twin boys? Puke and Luke. Fraternal twins? Same thing. Twin girls? Puke and…..the uglier one I "forgot" in a trash can at some rest area off the New Jersey Turnpike.

—puke hilton
—they should rename the other one puke
—puke & paris
—then people might actually remember that one!

In a sandwich, mayonnaise is supposed to be spread on the bread like a lubricant. Why, then, do the sandwich artists (re: Mexican people) at Subway put the mayonnaise in the middle of your sandwich? It's a sandwich, not a twinkie! A spoonful of mayonnaise makes the medicine come right back up.

Then they have that watery lettuce that falls into your lap.

Seven months.




One-way streets are frustrating.

Trying to find the theatre screening The Hebrew Hammer, we somehow ended up at the top of a mountain. Eventually, we found the theatre, bought tickets, secured a hotel room, and crashed. —This is the plan. We'll nap now. Then we'll go eat and watch the movie. Then we can walk around the city. Then we'll sleep and tomorrow morning we can walk around the city some more before leaving.

—Pas mal, j'ai rencontré une super fille hier. Tu veux prendre un petit caf' plus tard? J'adore quand tu léches mes couilles… Tu veux me faire une petite pipe plus tard? Coucou toi, ca va? Ouais, et toi? Combien de kilomètres doit un homme doit marcher avant que l'on puisse l'appeler un homme? J'aime bien me faire carroter.
—Do you take American Express?
—Yes we do, sir.

I set out to buy pants and underwear. On one street, there were a lot of department stores, none of which I recognized. I didn't really know where to go, until I saw a Gap. Thank God for globalization. I walked inside the Gap, picked out some cheap underwear and khakis. Mission: Accomplished.

I like how in Montreal, sales people start small talk in French and once you respond in English, they immediately switch to English. If you don't respond in English, they assume you're French. It's a little game you can play at stores.


After taking a very nice shower, we went out for dinner. We were in Montreal. We could enjoy all sorts of cuisine. Where did we eat? Subway. Thank God for globalization.


The Hebrew Hammer

The movie is very much Undercover Brother but with an excess of Jew jokes instead of black people jokes. A lot of the comedy is rooted in random jokes. There's a lot of stupid stuff in the movie. At the same time, I don't wanna say that I didn't laugh. I laughed, even at some of the stupid stuff. It's all a matter of taste. Definitely not what we expected, but it could be worse.