Saturday, March 12, 2005

We got our weekend on up in here, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers

Not proud of this one

Last week Michael Jackson showed up in hour late to court. It turns out Michael had been in downtown Los Angeles and he got caught in the ten. Or was he eleven?

Putting the BS in CBS
Now that Dan Rather is gone, to boost their ratings, CBS is trying to make their news more exciting. For example, whenever they report on the Michael Jackson trial, the anchor has to wear pajama bottoms.

To make CBS News more exciting, four words: Foreign Correspondent Carrot Top.

One night to spruce up the excitement on CBS News they are going to give Andy Rooney a queer makeover.

No Jack Jacko
Michael Jackson may be in serious financial trouble. How much trouble? Bubbles the chimp may have to break out his old accordion and go back to work.

How bad is it? Michael may actually have to sell some of his old body parts on eBay.

Michael may have to fire his personal umbrella holder and buy one of those goofy umbrella hats.

Last week the younger brother of Michael Jackson’s accuser testified. Or as Michael calls the younger brother of his accuser: the one that got away.

Sold separately
Delta airlines announced to cut costs, they are doing away with pillows. So now you’re going to have to pay extra if you want head-lice.

Jacked up
I still can’t get over Michael Jackson wore pajamas to his child molestation trial. That is some crackerjack team of advisors that guy has. “Sure, go ahead, wear pajamas to a trial that could send you to prison for having sleepovers with kids, that’s a great idea.” Who is his advisor, R. Kelley?

Michael Jackson wore pajamas to his molestation trial? Afterwards, why not have Michael offer candy to some children he doesn’t know? That’s also wonderful idea.

Stewing with Martha
As you know, Martha Stewart is serving her sentence at her $40 million 153 acre estate. That should straighten her out. If they really wanted to punish Martha, they should sentence Carrot Top to five months on her estate. “Hey Martha, look, I stole this Neighborhood Crime sign.”

Shhhh and P.U.
According to a law in San Luis Obisbo, librarians can throw somebody out of the library if they smell bad. How embarrassing. “Excuse me sir, you’re going to have to leave.” “But I didn’t say a word.” “No, but your armpits are screaming.”

One of the “Tonight Show” guest comedians was Carrot Top. Did you see how buffed he is? Now they are going to have to start testing comedians for steroids after Carrot Top pulled a Yugo out of his trunk.

I can’t do any more Carrot Top jokes, he’ll kick my ass.

Since you asked:
There are many things I don’t and never will get: Marching bands, tap dancing, Keanu Reeves, Dungeons and Dragons, and boy bands. But right at the top of that list has to be game face painters. What could possibly motivate a grown man – or woman – to think, “How can I show support for my favorite team? I know, I’ll paint my face in the team colors, that will do it.” Why? It didn’t work for the Indians, it ain’t gonna work for your team.

Ten years gone
When we moved into our suburban San Diego home ten years ago, I looked out the window of my office and saw that our next door neighbor was skateboarding up and down the cul de sac. Great, I thought. My neighbors have a stoner, brat skateboarding punk for a son.

As usual, I couldn’t have been more wrong.

In the time that we have lived here, I have seen Ross Garrett go from high school surfing champ, to USC graduate school, to editor of Surfing magazine, to law school, to offered to head up a water sports clothing division for Patagonia clothing, back to law school and now he is the publisher of Surfing magazine. In between all of these adventures have come and gone about 20 of the most beautiful women in the world as his temporary girlfriends.

In that same time I think I’ve written six good jokes.

The entire Garrett family is smart, good looking, funny and nice. Their life is like a damn beer commercial: surfing, camping, kayaking, cook outs. One day I made the mistake of asking Ross what he was doing that weekend. Somehow, without any pretension at all, he casually mentioned he was escorting Laird Hamilton, his wife Gabriella Reese and none other than Rebecca Romaijn (She was Stamos’d at the time) to the MTV music awards.

Me? I cleaned Labrador poop out of my backyard.

Yeah, but can they write a good Michael Jackson joke? (And like you can?) Oh, be quiet. (No, you be quiet. Or was he eleven? That’s gross) So is Michael Jackson. (There is this new thing out there Alex, it’s called the high road. You might want to try it) Oh, don’t get all high and mighty on my narrow behind.

And that’s how we play: Alex’s caffeine buzz is wearing off and he fights with his inner diatribe.
Since you asked:

One of the many games I play when driving around with my six-year-old daughter, Ann Caroline, is what I call Bad Singing. This is when a song comes on the ol’ classic rock station and I howl along purposefully and decidedly off key veritably screeching, much to Ann Caroline’s bemusement. This is what I was doing yesterday when Ann Caroline commented:

“It’s a good thing you’re not trying to sing at the Oprah.”

She meant Opera. Great, I’m raising my very own Norm Crosby. Make no mistake about it, she doesn’t get it from me. I am a proud alumnus of the University of California at Santa Barbara. I even gradualated and everything like that there, 'n stuff.

Go Gaucho Gold.

Hey, the Lady Gauchos are playing on ESPN today. Check your schedules. Lady Gaucho? That means a female male South American cowboy. What the heck do South American bandits have to do with going to college in amazingly beautiful Santa Barbara? These guys swill wine all day out of the bottle and sleep wherever they pass out. OK, now I am starting to get the connection.

Did I ever tell you my Gaucho mascot story? It’s been a while.

Prior to a big U.C.S.B. homecoming men’s basketball game, they announce that, at halftime, they are going to unveil our brand new Gaucho mascot. Umm, OK?

Sure enough, some guy in a frilly cowboy suit that Richard Simmons would call queer, trots out to center court. My buddies and I trade wildly skeptical looks, but, we thought, maybe this guy is some amazing gymnast and will fly through the air and somersault through the hoop. Let’s give him a chance, being our line of thinking at the time.

This clown stands there at center court with his little cowboy hat complete with little dangling balls – heh, heh, he said dangling balls – puffs out his lace-ridden vested chest and waits for his big introduction. The P.A. guy booms;

“Ladies and Gentleman, we’d now like to introduce to you your new mascot, Gary Gaucho (or something equally as stupid)

The guy takes five running strides forward and then, as the crowd collectively holds its breath, he leaps maybe, and I mean maybe, four inches off of the ground and lands in the stupidest Tah Dah pose you’ve ever seen and then just stands there, fringed-jacketed arms aloft waiting to bask in our applause.

For a couple of moments, the crowd sat in an actual stunned silence, mouths agape, dumbstruck at how lame this was. And then, as one voice, came the loudest and most contempt-laden boos you’ve ever heard. This poor gay Zorro-wannabe was then pelted with anything and everything the crowd could throw: beer, beer cans, cups, popcorn, shoes. I’m not positive but I like to imagine there was at least one beach ball also.

Sadly, this was the first and last appearance of Gary the U.C.S.B Gaucho. Whoever that poor dork was, I'm sure he is still in therapy over the incident.

Ahh, good times . . . good times . . . good . . . times.

(Polite applause)

P.S. Don't feel too sorry for Gary Gaucho, I hear he went on to form the band Hoobastank.

Friday, March 11, 2005

And Can I Get a Righteous "Hoobastank" from you one time, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers?

Get the drum kit ready
Can you believe that Michael Jackson showed up for his molestation trial in pajama bottoms? That’s like showing up for a domestic abuse trial in an Ike Turner t-shirt.

Yesterday, Michael Jackson showed up to his child molestation trial wearing pajama bottoms.
That’s like showing up to your drug trial wearing an Ozzie Osbourne t-shirt.

Who wears pajama bottoms to a child molestation trial? That’s like wearing a Kobe Bryant jersey to a sexual harassment trial.

Who wears pajama bottoms to a molestation trial? What’s he going to wear tomorrow? A clown suit?

Can you believe that Michael Jackson showed up for his molestation trial in pajama bottoms? As if he wasn’t in enough trouble, now Michael Jackson will be charged with impersonating Hugh Hefner.

Gag this, Judge
The court overturned the gag order and ruled that Jay Leno can tell jokes about Michael Jackson. The judge went on to add, however, that he will have to lighten up on the Camilla Parker Bowles jokes.

Or something like that . . .
Tennis star Martina Navratilova is suing the makers of a gay credit card for using her name without permission. I think the gay credit card is called American Expresso. You can only use it in chic coffee shops.

Too far
A high school teacher in Fresno, CA is charged with smoking pot with his students. What is going on? Teachers are having sex and smoking pot with students? I believe in college preparation but this is too much.

You know what you call a high school student who has never done drugs nor had sex with a teacher? Home schooled.

I’m starting to really feel like a loser. When I was a kid I never had sex with a teacher. Hell, even my priest didn’t try anything. I feel so unwanted.

That’s not nice
J. Lo’s husband, Marc Anthony, said he painted a nude portrait of J. Lo. Unfortunately, when it came time to finish her ass, he had to hire a spray gun.

Now, that stinks
The ex-girlfriend of Britney Spears husband, Kevin Federline, said Federline had bad hygiene and smelled. How bad did he smell? She said Federline was a one man white trash garbage strike.

Hate to hear that
Former “Baywatch” star Michael Bergin was charged with drunk driving. It gets worse for Michael. When his boss heard about it, he fired Bergin as his Pizza Hut delivery boy.

Just like us
The Jury is still out on the Robert Blake trial. Why is it taking so long? Like everyone else, they’ve been watching the Michael Jackson trial and forgot all Robert Blake.

Ah, that wonderful time of year is approaching. When Lex can rip those dog-ass Mets
Baseball is in a full-blown drug scandal. If the New York Mets did take steroids, the steroid makers would have been obligated to give them their money back for failing to enhance their performances.

Since you asked:

Pet peeve update.

Yes, it took a whole week, but I have another pet peeve: Same-time-phone talkers.

You know what I mean. They are the verbal equivalent of those people who pull on the car door handle right when you try and hit the unlock button. The telephone version of the zig when you zag walker until it looks like you are practically freakin’ dancing. I’m always the one who stands still and says “Go ahead.”

One time I swear I was talking to a computer tech guy who would only talk right when I talked. Finally I had to act like General George S. Patton when the tanks were gridlocked at the muddy intersection. Climbed right on the oil drum and directed traffic: “OK, you stop talking, I’m going to start. OK, you can talk now.”

Part of the problem with same-time-talkers, or S.T.T.’s is due to a slight delay in the cell phone reception. That brief pause is enough to cause some serious same-time-talking. But that is no excuse. Wait for your turn.

Now, anyone who has seen me at a party or at dinner is laughing at my hypocrisy right now. True, I consider when someone inhales an invitation to talk. That I came by naturally. When we had lively discussions at our house it was neither for the meek nor faint of heart conversationalist. Our dinner talks were more like tag team wrestling matches. That why I learned how to be funny. Getting someone to laugh was the only way to get them to stop talking for a second. But that is different. It’s OK to have more than one conversation in a social situation.

But the phone is another matter. By its nature only one person can go at once. Especially on speaker phone. You get shut down completely by same-time-talkers on speaker phones. One more reason why it should never be used. It’s infuriating. It’s as if the phone is saying “Would one of you shut up?”

You want to get off the speaker phone? Do what I do. Start swearing like a drunken sailor that just hammered his thumb and that person will pull a muscle yanking you off the office loudspeaker. It is always worth a laugh.

Which brings me to my favorite office message story.

One day I call my buddy Bryan up in Los Angeles at his fancy schmancy Century City offices. (Think that actor guy Peter Gallager) When his brand new secretary answered the phone, she had a very thick Russian accent. Boing. You could almost see the underhanded light bulb go off in my head.

“Bryan is being in wery, wery important meeting and is not to be disturbeded” she said in her broken English.

“Listen. This is an emergency,” I lied through my teeth. “You need to break into that meeting and give him this message word for word the way I give it to you, do you hear me? It is vitally important that you do exactly as I say.” I sounded like that Keifer Sutherland guy on “24.”

She assured me she understood, and after a little coaching, she burst into the board meeting filled with all of Bryant’s top clients and his boss and she yelled out at the top of her lungs in her thick Russian accent:

“Everybody is to go overboard, Mooses and Squirrels first.”

Five minutes later Bryan called me, crying with laughter.

“You bastard. We had to cancel the meeting everyone was laughing so hard.” And just why did he assume that I had done it? Oh, alright.

That poor secretary never did understand why, whenever I called, I told her to tell Bryan it was from "Boris Darlink."

And that’s how we play “Lex messes with the livelihood of his friends who have real jobs.”

Thursday, March 10, 2005

Let me know when it get good to you all up in here, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers

Not buying it
Michael Jackson was an hour late to court after being treated for, what one of his attorneys called, a serious back problem. I’m not sure I buy Jackson has a serious back problem; a serious back to school problem, sure, but not a serious back problem.

The only back problem Michael Jackson has is with young boys: he keeps going back and that’s a problem.

Member since he liked members
Tennis star Martina Navratilova is suing the makers of a gay credit card for using her name without permission. Do know what the slogan of the gay credit card is? Don’t leave the closet without it.

Did you hear the gay credit card slogan? At least our interest rates won’t bend you over.

When a guy picks up a tab using a gay credit card, and says; “Fellas, it’s on me” he means it.

A woman in Idaho was stopped after unknowingly driving ten miles on a highway with her cat on the roof of her car. She wasn’t arrested, but the cat was charged with impersonating a stick-on Garfield doll.

I bet on the latter
Bill Clinton is in New York for low-risk heart surgery. He’ll be in the hospital for three days or ten sponge-baths by a hot nurse, whichever comes first.

A little different
Major League baseball players were subpoenaed by congress to testify about performance enhancing drugs. Except the New York Mets, they were subpoenaed for using performance reducing drugs.

When they tried to hand the New York Mets subpoenas, the Mets kept dropping them.

Sammy Sosa’s English isn’t so hot. When they told him he was given a subpoena, he said “Tank you berry much, but I no drink the subpoena coladas.”

A student in Idaho is facing three counts of disturbing the peace for sending semen covered brownies to another student. Apparently he got the recipe from Paris Hilton’s hacked T-mobile sidekick.

Not good
In San Francisco, you can get a cell phone with a ring tone of moaning porn actors. Is this something you want going off when you’re at your kid’s school play?

Neeee hawwwww
In college hoops, West Virginia upset #7 Boston College, 78-72. When asked to comment, a West Virginia fan said the win was like kissing his sister. When corrected that it was ties that are like kissing your sister, the West Virginia fan said; “Why? Ties are boring. My sister’s hot.”

Jacked up Jacko
Did you see Michael Jackson arrive late at court in his pajamas? Reporters described Jackson as looking disoriented and spacey. Isn’t that the way he always is?

Michael Jackson arrived at court an hour late and in his pajamas and was reportedly spaced-out. It looks like somebody went at it a little too hard on the Jesus Juice at the Neverland Ranch Happy Hour.

Since you asked:
Let’s try a reader’s mail for real. Any thoughts, suggestions, comments, complaints, keep them to your damn self. No, just kidding, send them in to

Always remember, comedy writers are needier and more sensitive than a lost labradoodle puppy in the rain. Unless the email goes out again.

Oh, and Happy Birthday Jim Woods, aka, Woody. Or as Wally Kachooks would have put it:


Wally was a little “teched” in the head. Granted, not as tetched as Hondo, but still tetched.

And three more things:

Hoobastank, Hoobastank, Hoobastank

Oh, and check out the Google desktop and load her up. It is a comedy writer's dream. I can just type in Michael Jackson and it pulls up anything I wrote, emailed or looked up on Sir Psycho

Tuesday, March 08, 2005

We ain’t frontin’, we gruntin’, we gonna get our swerve on up in here, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers

(Think Vince Vaughn in “Be Cool.”)

That explains it
Archaeologists have finally determined what caused King Tut’s death 3,300 years ago. He was bored to death of the Robert Blake trial.

And less pea soup
Reports are that Martha Stewart is a new, nicer person since being released from prison. Now when she screams at her employees her head only spins around once.

It is going to be a tough adjustment for Martha Stewart from prison. Just today she tried to buy a garlic press at William and Sonoma with a carton of cigarettes.

She wanted to show how many times 13 went into 37
A West Virginia 37-year-old sixth grade teacher, Toni Woods, was accused of having sex with several of her male students. It was awkward, the West Virginian students didn’t know what to call her during sex, teacher or Aunt Toni.

It was a freaky case for the West Virginia authorities, the teacher and the students had sex and they weren’t even related.

You know what sex is like for a West Virginia student and teacher? It’s all relative.

Nice gesture
During their tour of the Tsunami victims, former President Clinton gave up the only bed on the plane to former President Bush. Apparently Clinton slept on an inflatable Intern.

You had to see him
President Bush has tapped John Bolton to be the U.S. Ambassador to the U.N. Critics say Bolton is too hawkish, too sharp-tongued, and that he looks way too much like Captain Kangaroo.

We would have said Tom Arnold fans, but there aren’t any
A study from the American College of Cardiology in Florida revealed that laughter is good for the heart. Upon hearing this, fans of Paulie Shore were advised to begin jogging immediately.

Be better in no time
Bill Clinton has to go back under the knife for what was described as low-risk heart surgery. He should be fine, Doctors say Clinton will go from being on an I.V. to being on soft interns in one week.

During their tour of the Tsunami victims, former President Clinton gave up the only bed on the plane to former President Bush. The floor wasn’t a hardship for Clinton, he’s slept on much colder, more uncomfortable things. Like Hillary, for example.

Bad blood
Following their close battle at Doral, it is obvious Tiger Woods and Phil Mickelson don’t get along. Apparently it stems back to the time Phil asked Karl Malone to hit on Tiger’s wife.

No biggie
Manchester United soccer star Wayne Rooney was recorded using 10 obscenities in one minute during an argument with a referee. Or as volatile hoops coach Bobby Knight calls 10 obscenities in one minute: a bedtime story.

Since you asked:
What terms do you hate? Issues can go away for a while. It is a term that stinks of the pussification of America. It’s a weasily way out of saying what you really think, i.e., he has anger issues really means, that guy is freakin’ crazy. You think I got anger issues? Youse gonna have broken nose issues. Whaddya ‘tink ‘bout ‘dat?

“I’m all about” needs to rest. Hello is no longer cute as a form of duh. “Up in here” should only be used sarcastically – as with all street expressions – by non-street people over the age of, oh, say, anything.

Player is starting to show its wear and tear. So is referring to your car as your ride. And “It’s all good” has to go back to where it came from because it is no longer any good.

Any others let me know:

Oh, and check this out:

Their motto? Say it loud, say it plowed.

Monday, March 07, 2005

We got to do the do that we do to you, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers

Chimp change
In California, a man was viciously attacked by two chimps. In fact, there hasn’t been a chimp this furious since Bubbles flew into a jealous rage over Michael Jackson’s sleepover guests.

Kinda like that
President Bush nominated Stephen L. Johnson as the head of the Environmental Protection Agency. Bush nominating the head of the EPA is like Martha Stewart appointing the head of the Securities Exchange Commission.

Bush nominating the head of the EPA is like Michael Jackson nominating the head of child protective services.

Also kinda like that
Martha Stewart will serve the rest of her sentence at her $40 million dollar 153 acre luxury estate. That’s like sentencing Michael Moore to a Krispy Kreme donut shop.

Work it out
The New England Journal of Medicine reports that, for men, staring at women’s breasts for ten minutes is equal to a 30 minute work out. For variety, guys can get the same benefit by staring at women’s butts. That way, when you come home from drinking beer at a strip club, you can tell your wife you’ve been carbo-loading and cross-training.

Bad sports jobs? Any job that has the name New Orleans Hornets in the title
USA Today published the ten worst jobs in sports. How could they have possibly left off Terry Bradshaw’s hair stylist?

USA Today published the ten worst jobs in sports. How could they have possibly left off Barry Bond’s personal pubic relations director? “Barry, you just can’t tell the Nun from the Vatican press to bite you.”

USA Today published the ten worst jobs in sports. How could they have possibly left off Jose Conseco’s proof reader? “Um, Jose, for the last time, there’s no such word as steroidifided.”

“And, Jose, switch hitters who can use their left and right hands are not actually called amphibious.”

Sadly, hard-partying gonzo journalist and sports nut Dr. Hunter S. Thompson passed away. Services will be held as soon as the crematorium can get his fire to burn down.

In lieu of flowers please send drawn butter
Bubba, the 100 year old 23 pound lobster caught off Maine died while being transferred to the Pittsburgh Zoo. Services will be held at the Pittsburgh all-you-can eat Red Lobster.

iPod, uPod, we allPod
Over 10 million iPods have been sold. Have you heard the latest trend? Clothes for the iPod. People are dressing up their iPods. And we actually wonder why poorer countries hate us?

Did you know that people are naming their iPods? If you really feel you need to name your iPod, I’ve got some iPod name suggestions: Get a Life, is a good one. Or, Sad Loser, would fit. Or Too Much Time on Your Hands is also a good one.

Can you believe some people are actually naming their iPods? “Hey, I see you’ve got an iPod there.” “Excuse me, but he objects to the term iPod; he prefers his given name, Lawrence.”

Who are these people dressing and naming their iPods? Probably the same people who have time to listen to 5,000 songs. 500 songs, sure, but 5,000? There are entire music stores that don’t have that many songs. And that even includes songs by William Hung and John Tesh.

Good luck
I’m having a great week so far. To show you how lucky I’ve been, today a judge sentenced me to five months of house arrest at Martha Stewart’s estate. It’s like winning the lottery.

“Hey Martha, where do you keep the beer nuts, “Jeopardy” is on. Wow, this couch is nice.”

Can you believe a judge sentenced Martha Stewart to five months at her palatial $40 million, 153 acre estate? If he wanted to punish Martha, he should have sentenced her to Paulie Shore’s room at his Mom’s house. Now that would teach her.

If he wanted to punish Martha, he should have sentenced her to Tonya Harding’s trailer home.

Could be worse
The fate of Robert Blake now lies in the hands of the jury. As scary as that seems for Blake, it could be worse. Blake’s fate could be in the hands of 12 television critics.

Maybe it’s just me
The NFL is still talking about former Ohio State star running back, Maurice Clarett’s slow 4.82 forty time. Now, I don’t want to imply Clarett is out of shape, but I still say he would have run faster if he had only put down the Twinkie.

Gone gates
The gates in Central Park are gone. Well, by gone, I mean stolen. Central Park hot dog vendors doubled their business when the gates were there. To show you how busy it was, the hot dog vendors were so busy, they almost ran out of formaldehyde for the hot dog water.

Times have changed.
Five years ago it would not have sounded like a good thing at all to admit that you had Hoobastank on your iPod.

Since you asked:
Friends. Bear (or is it bare?) with me. My (take a deep breath, Lex) frickin’ email is out again. My new McAfee spam blocker seems to want to change the server to a wrong address. Whatever the hell that means. I should be back in action tomorrow.

On the good side of technology, I feel so damned hip. (Remember, nothing sadder than non-twenty something’s trying to act cool) Get this: I just downloaded Usher’s “Caught Up” on my iPod. Four years ago, if someone said I’d have an Usher on my iPod I would have sued the movie theater for sexual harassment.

Saw the Grammys and I wasn’t overly impressed by anyone except that Usher guy. Man can flat out sing and it dance old school. You remember, back when you had to have more than a dingy famous sister and a bad attitude to get a recording deal? OK, so much for being hip and cool. Now I sound like a crabby old guy. Again. Worse, a crabby old guy with email problems. I’m starting to remind myself of my parents, may they rest in peace.

Frantic call to my old apartment in San Diego from my parents in Chicago entertaining dinner guests to watch a video: “How come the VCR isn’t working? Oh, channel three? There it is. Bye. Click.”