Oh, now, we just playin,’ I wouldn’t dawg my dawgizzy, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers
Beer gets a Queer makeover
A Swiss brewer has made a beer for gay people called Queer Beer. Have you heard their slogan? “We’re here, we’re beer, get juiced to it.”
Have you heard the Queer Beer motto? “Those few ugly gay men need sex too.”
We have another name for Queer Beer in the United States. We call it: Zima.
I’m not sure about the sales pitch for the new Queer Beer. “When a wine spritzer just isn’t gay enough”
That explains it
Philadelphia quarterback Donovan McNabb threw up in the huddle at the end of the Super Bowl. Apparently Donovan must have seen one of his interceptions replayed on the jumbo screen.
That should do it
Many American companies are moving into Iraq. Iraq now has a Pizza Hut, a Taco Bell and Popeye’s fried chicken. So apparently we are stepping up our plans to kill the insurgents.
And they now have a Subway sandwich shop in Iraq. They even have a Subway commercial that features their Iraqi spokesperson: Jihad Jared
This is that nightmare time of year for many guys: the Super Bowl is over, the Christmas lights are still up, they haven’t gotten the swimsuit edition of Sports Illustrated and Valentines Day is looming just ahead like an angry, dark, ugly cloud.
Not a good idea
I’ve had heart-broken buddies who get dumped by girls and, out of frustration, say; “I swear I’m going to go gay.” Is that really a good idea? You think you feel bad now? Just wait until you blow big money on dinner for some guy, and then he says he just wants to be friends.
Love that sports and music humor
The Philadelphia Eagles have two things in common with songs of the band called the Eagles. Yeah, in the fourth quarter, the football Eagles “Wasted Time” and were “Already Gone.”
Yesterday was Fat Tuesday. That makes today bloated, hung-over, and remorseful Wednesday.
One tradition on Fat Tuesday is you get glass beads for flashing your breasts. Except for CBS, yeah, they flashed their boob on Sunday night. But enough about Geraldo Rivera . . .
Unless you’re Michael Moore, than they give you beads to not flash your breasts.
A man in Germany says he’s come up with a cell phone that allows you to talk to the dead. So, I guess we can call the Philadelphia Eagles.
I stole my own old Ahmad Reshad, Michael Jordan joke
The Los Angeles Lakers still don’t have a coach. It won’t be easy finding a coach for the Lakers. You have to have a guy who can deal with the L.A. media, handle being around movie stars, and who will agree to have his lips surgically attached to Kobe Bryant’s rear-end.
It is tough finding a coach for Kobe Bryant.
There was an awkward moment when President Bush met President Kwasniewski of Poland. Bush said, “I have deep respect for Polish people except for those folks who mistakenly said I lost the election. You know, those darn exit Poles.”
Don’t you wish you were there just so you could hear Bush try and pronounce Kwasniewski?
It will probably come out Quiznossandwichskier.
Since you asked:
Heh heh heh. Get this. Heh heh. My firewall won't allow the new password for my Outlook Express to go through. Hah hah hah. When I call the Outlook email expert guy at my cable company, he said - and I am not making this up because it has happened to me before - he actually said:
"I will email you your new password."
Got that? Hah hah hah hah. The expert at Road Runner/Time Warner cable, by which I get my email via the Time Warner cable, told me he was going to email my new password to my email address THAT I CAN'T PULL UP IN THE FIRST PLACE BECAUSE IT WON'T TAKE MY PASSWORD!
(Doing my best Tom Hanks when-the-bath-tub-falls-through-the-floor-in "The Money Pit" laugh.
HAH HAH HAAAAAAA HAAAAAAAAAAA HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa (cough, cough, cough) haaaha.
Oh my. Where did all of this fog come from? Grandma? Grandma Rodgers? Is that really you? I can hear your voice but I can't see you through all of this cold fog. What's that you're saying? Come to the warm light? Ewww, that does feel so nice. I don't know, I mean, I should stay here, I have a beautiful wife and daughter many great friends some great clients and two cute Labradors and we live in a great town. On the other hand, I am having serious computer problems, and this fog I've seemed to slip into is cold and that light is sooooo warm, I guess, well, Grandma Rodgers wouldn't steer me wrong, maybe I'll just slip over towards that nice warm light . . .
Whoa. I'm back. A loud error prompt on my computer snapped me out of it. Anything happen when I was having my computer related near-death experience?
A new feature here at A.L.B.B. we like to call "What is the deal?"
Have you noticed how a lot of the really cool technical companies like TiVo has a big V in the middle? And iPod starts with a little i and then a big P just like eBay starts with a little e and then a big B? Even Hewlett Packard’s emblem is hp. Here’s my question: If these companies are so damn smart, how come they don’t know how to use capital letters?
Oh, I see. I get it. It’s that, ewww, look at us, we don’t use linear thinking. Noooo, we think outside the box. Oh yeah, were beyond the paradigm, we are. We’re too k.d. lang-like cool to use conventional letters. Well, let me tell you something you snotty know-it-alls, you have to use the same rules we do or you can bite me or my name isn’t aLeX kAseBerG.
Another new feature here at a.l.b.b. we like to call "Carmel Valley Spreads the Love."
Cut to: three months ago.
I am finishing a run and I see one of these little yippie lap dogs running around in the middle of our street. Well, I pick up the little thing and it is trembling and scared, so I take it home and call the number on the dog’s tags. No answer but I leave a message. This woman soon calls back and rather brusquely asks for our address. Well, I figure she is probably stressed out about her dog. Turns out she is just at the other end of the cul de sac, so, in ten seconds she rings the doorbell. I come to the door with the dog and she says;
“Oh, Puddins, there you are. The stupid maid left the door open and the dog got out.”
Then she takes the dog, gets in the car and drives off. No “Thanks for saving my dog.” Nothing.
Cut to: Last week.
There I am taking Ann Caroline around our street to sell Girl Scout cookies. She has her little Brownie vest on and, as I have mentioned - at six one and a half with shoulders and chest wider than an SUV, albeit with a taut and nubile behind – I can appear rather intimidating, so I stood back a few feet and let my daughter do the talking.
We go to the door of the woman whose dog I saved. We ring. Nothing. Wait the appropriate time and ring again. This time a woman’s voice yells from behind the door:
“Who is it?”
I yell back with a sweet smile in my voice:
“We’re neighbors from just down the street selling Girl Scout cookies.”
She yells back;
“Not interested. ”
She didn’t even bother to open the frickin’ door.
And people wonder why Carmel Valley in San Diego is considered full of rude schmucks?