Saturday, October 04, 2008

Oh yes we di’ d, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers


Uh, no Governor, that’s not, oh forget it
There was an embarrassing moment during the Vice Presidential debates when Sarah Palin said; “Why, did you know that, here in St. Louis, I can see the country of Illinois?”

Same thing
On the debut of “Survivor” the censors failed to cover it up when a contestant’s penis flopped out during the show. The same thing happened once on “The View” to Rosie O’Donnell.

It was the biggest penis to flop out on live TV since Ryan Seacrest hosted “American Idol.”

I got mixed up
You have to feel for the Chicago Cubs. Imagine waiting over a hundred years for your big chance . . . no, wait, I’m sorry, that’s John McCain.

At least he has that
A man is suing a Maryland doctor for accidentally stapling his rectum shut preventing him from defecating for 17 days. On the bright side, after not defecating for 17 days, the man was so full of it he was named an honorary U.S. congressman.

Quick
The latest OJ Simpson trial is set to go to the jury. Wow, that’s quick. By this time in the first OJ trial we had just barely learned prosecutor Marcia Clark wasn’t wearing panties in court.

Friday, October 03, 2008

We got the diggity to the doggity on the sniggity snaggity, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers


Nice try
A teacher in Portland TN was arrested for having sex with her 17-year-old student; in her defense, she claims she was just trying to teach the boy about the Bush Doctrine.

What’s in a title?
Monday, the World’s Oldest Man turned 113; Do you know what’s the title of the World’s Second Oldest Man? Senator from Arizona.

Ohhhh
Paul McCartney had his first concert in Israel; there was one angry crowd reaction until McCartney clarified what he sang was; “Hey Jude.”

That explains it
“Slate” magazine reports the two industries that are still growing in these tough economic times are lawyers and prostitutes. One is an immoral disease-spreading bottom-dweller who screws people for money and the other is a prostitute.

Go ahead and try
There is a restaurant in Europe that specializes in dishes made with human breast milk; you go ahead and try to finish a whole bowl of the Dolly Parton clam chowder. You can’t do it.

Deadly title
Monday the world’s oldest man turned 113; the title of the world’s oldest man is the third deadliest title behind second in command of the Taliban and head coach of the Oakland Raiders

Here I steal my own Apocalypse joke
The Chicago Cubs and the Chicago White Sox are in the playoffs. The Dodgers and the Angels would be called the freeway series, and the Yankees and the Mets were the Subway series, do you know what they would call the Cubs-White Sox series? Armageddon.

That’s not nice
The Chicago Cubs are in the playoffs but they haven’t been in a World Series since 1945 when they were cursed by a Tavern owner because they wouldn’t let him bring his goat to a game. Who wants to bring an old goat to a baseball game anyway? Well, besides Cindy McCain?

Working hard
Sarah Palin was getting ready for her big debate on Thursday. To prepare, Sarah watched hour after hour of Tina Fey tapes.

She still has that going
Kim Kardashian, was voted off of “Dancing with the Stars” But Kardashian is still in contention in the more aptly titled “Dancing with the Fat-assed Rich Brats with No Talent."

Whew
Man, did I have a bad dream last night. Instead of watching the baseball playoffs, my wife took me to see the ultimate chick flick: “Bridges of the Traveling Beaches of Rodanthe.”


Yuck
Lance Armstrong announced he is returning to cycling but a French newspaper says they want to re-test Armstrong’s urine samples from 1999. They saved Armstrong’s urine from 1999.You know the French, they’ll drink anything that’s been aged at least nine years.

Big difference
“Slate” magazine reports the two professions that are still growing in these tough economic times are lawyers and prostitutes. You know the difference between a prostitute and a lawyer? When a prostitute screws you, at least you get laid.

Scurvy dogs
The Somali hijackers who took over the Russian ship told negotiators they aren’t pirates, they’re like the coast guard. But they weren’t convincing. When told they weren’t really the Coast Guard, they replied “Yes we arrrrrrrrrrrrre.”

Now is a good time
The Chicago Cubs lost their second game to the Los Angeles Dodgers, 10-3. For Cubs fans it’s important to remember it’s not time to panic. (three, two, one) OK, now it’s time to panic. Oh my god, one more loss and we are out, noooooo!


Since you asked:

Even though I was ahead of the curve and sold ‘puters in the early Eighties, I am by no means a techie. Don’t get me wrong, I loves me some my computer. Specifically Word, don’t know how anyone wrote without it. Lord knows I loves me some Google, use it twenty times a day. Lord knows I loves me some e-mail, even though managing that has become a job in itself. (It seems like over a gabillion years ago that I was excited when my then AOL guy cheerfully told me “You’ve got mail”)

Lord knows, I loves me some Blogger. Lord knows I loves me some YouTube and Amazon. Lord knows I loves me some speed checkers online while rockin’ an adult beverage while blasting my songs on iTunes while waiting for the oven or grill to preheat. Lord knows I loves me some Fantasy Football. And I loves, loves, loves me some DVR and High Definition and my sound system hooked up to my iPod. Arr, arrr, arrr.

But I got scant love for my cell phone. Scant love.

Got over text messaging in about a month. Once I had sent messages to all of my buds encouraging them to quench their thirst for carnal knowledge with barnyard animals, it was over.

Now my cell phone – granted it is bare bones, no camera, no video, no Internet – is just a tool to annoy me.

“Sure, I’d love to pick up and drop off Cooper, and Caden and Tyler and Dylan and Jared”

And I’ll admit it is a nice security blanket to know I am covered if something happens – god forbid - with the car. But I do not like talking on that thing. The delay invokes terminal same-time-talking.

“Wha . . . oh, no, sorr . . . no, you go . . . no, I’ll . . .”

This is the conversational equivalent of somebody pulling on the door handle jamming you up as you try to hit the unlock button.

And I am telling you, how Verizon charges minutes is borderline criminal. If you even think about making a call, they whack you.

Rat bastards.

Thursday, October 02, 2008

We got the FUD* up in this crud, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers

So mean
Mathematicians at UCLA have come up with the largest prime number; they came upon it accidentally when they were playing a game of “Guess Kirsty Alley’s Weight.”

That bad
Monday the market fell over 777 points. The collapse was so fast it is being called New York Mets-like.

Nobody anticipated the incredible impact to our financial system that was Clay Aiken announcing he’s gay.

Who cares?
There was an incredible outpouring of nostalgia for the last game at Yankee Stadium, but nobody cared about the last game at Shea Stadium. Shea Stadium was a dump. Guys voted it the place they’d least like to be besides the bathroom stall next to Idaho Senator Larry Craig.

Nothing new
The big talking point is that Main Street is mad at Wall Street. And Trump Street still hates Rosie Street.

Class act
Oakland Raiders slimy owner Al Davis fired his coach, Lane Kiffin and then slandered the coach to avoid paying his contract. Afterwards Davis slathered himself with rancid rat fat and then slithered into the sewer to romance a blind alligator.

Or something like that
There is a restaurant in Europe that specializes in dishes made with human breast milk; I think it’s called “For Tat.”

The "He Who Smelt it, Dealt it" proviso
Police in West Virginia dropped charges of battery against a man who passed gas and fanned it at the arresting officer; apparently the little-known Dutch Oven statute did not apply.

They did, however, initiate a murder investigation into what crawled up inside of him and died.



Since you asked:
*Via “Urban Dictionary” Fear, uncertainty and doubt. A tactic those snotty button-downed weasels at IBM used on my prospects when I used to sell CPT stand alone word processors. “Nobody ever got fired for buying IBM” is selling FUD.

To give you an idea what I am talking about with IBM zombies, not long after I graduated from UCSB, when it looked like my computer company was pulling the plug on our CPT branch in Santa Barbara, I scheduled a meeting with a fraternity brother – I won’t say his name but it was Pete Bellnut, or something like that – who worked at IBM, to see if he could put in a good word for me. This penis-in-a-crisp-white shirt used the entire time to grill me about CPT products as he was competing against one for a sale in his sales area. Never did give me a reference.

What a freakin’ tool. This guy looked 50 back in college, he must look like a prehistoric tortoise by now.

But hey, I’m not bitter. So I don’t have “Fired by IBM” on my resume. Big deal. I’ve been fired by far better companies than that.

Actually, that’s not true.

Oh, and as far as the first game of the playoffs, it is important for us Chicago Cubs fans to remember it is not time to panic. (Three, two, one) OK, now it’s time to panic. What the . . .? Grand slam my ass . . . wait, that didn’t sound right at all.


Frickin' Doghairs. Peter Belnut is probably a huge fan.

Wednesday, October 01, 2008

This just in:

Oakland Raiders owner Al Davis fired his coach, Lane Kiffin and then slandered the coach at a press conference to avoid paying his contract. In terms of class acts, this ranks above OJ Simpson’s treatment of his ex-wife and below John Edward’s late hotel run with his mistress.


Afterwards Davis slathered himself with rancid rat fat and then slithered into the sewer to romance a blind alligator.

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

We got us some righteous bodaciousiosity, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers

Little for the little man
During the economic bail out, politicians keep yammering about the little guy. Let me tell you something, there is only one group who cares less for the little guy than politicians: the NBA.

Choke bloke
Sergio Garcia blew a five stroke lead to lose the PGA Tour Championship; Garcia choked so much on a big lead today he was named an honorary New York Met.

Do the math
John McCain is getting up there and insiders say he may need that bladder control drug, Flomax. One aide said McCain goes to the bathroom ten times a day. The bad news? He pees eleven times a day.

Catchy
PETA has petitioned Ben and Jerry’s ice cream to use human breast mild instead of cow’s milk; as a result, Ben and Jerry has a new flavor: “Eat Me, PETA.”

PETA once stood for People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals, now it stands for Proposing Extremely Troubling Actions.

They’re fine
Clay Aiken announced he is gay. When asked if this will hurt Clay Aiken’s female fan base, they both said; “Nah, we’ll be OK.”

Scurvy dog
A Russian cargo ship carrying tanks has been hijacked by pirates who demand $20 mil; these pirates are serious, they put the arr in cargo.

How did they miss this?
“Iron Man” is out on DVD. It has special features but it doesn’t explain how Iron Man missed the greatest product placement connection ever. How can Iron Man not plug Viagra?

Not good
The Oakland Raiders blew a 15-0 halftime lead to lose to the San Diego Chargers 28-18. In fact, the Raiders blew it so badly they have to change their name to the Oakland Lehman Brothers.

One of the greats
Paul Newman passed away. In addition to being a great actor and philanthropist, Newman was faithful to his wife, Joanne. When asked why, Newman said; “Why should I go out for hamburgers when I have steak at home?” This also explains Bill Clinton’s love of McDonalds.

Monday, September 29, 2008

They don’t write ‘em like that anymore, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers


John McCain cancelled his debate with Barack Obama to fly back to Washington to help fix the economy; apparently McCain is under the impression our national economy is like a gas-powered lawn mower in the garage. “Here, let me take a look at that . . .”


The Richard Gere, Diane Lane movie “Nights in Rodanthe” opens this weekend. Now, I don’t want to say this is a chick flick, but some guys see it and report immediately experiencing PMS.


Britney Spears’s mother, Lynn Spears, has written a book on parenting. That’s like President Bush writing a book on public speaking.


You know what would have made a great ticket? Ex-Russian President Vladimir Putin and Sarah Palin. Putin and Palin. It sounds like the worst country radio morning show ever. “Howdy, I’m Putin. “And I’m Palin.” “Together were Putin and Palin your mornin’ away. Nee Haw!”


Britney Spears’s mother, Lynn Spears, has written a book on parenting. That’s like Dick Cheney writing a book on charm.


Sarah Palin enjoyed her trip to the U.N. It was a little awkward when Palin said she enjoyed meeting royalty from other countries but she was disappointed she didn’t meet that Larry King.


Britney Spears’s mother, Lynn Spears, has written a book on parenting. It’s the perfect guide for all parents who want their kids to end up staggering drunk in Hollywood flashing their lack of underwear.


John McCain has 13 cars and trucks. He doesn’t need 13, he just has to buy a new one when he forgets where he parked the last one.


Lex’s two Paul Newman stories:

Lex’s Paul Newman story #1.

After a great mid-week, late summer touch football game in Central Park, two of my fellow bond broker buddies and I were walking down I think Park Avenue on the Upper East side, circa early Eighties, when we came upon what looked like a movie set. After a few questions we were told that it was actually a Japanese car commercial starring Paul Newman.

When we asked what time he was coming out they pointed to his trailer and said;

“Well, he us supposed to come out at Eight O’Clock but you know how stars are.”

As it was about ten minutes to Eight O’Clock, we decided to wait until eight, but if he didn’t show we were gone. Busy young men and all that.

At Eight O’Clock sharp, out popped Paul Newman. He smiled shook hands and spotted me standing there with a football and joked.

“Hey, are we filming a commercial or playing football?”

It was amazing. It was the exact same voice that said;

“I couldn’t do that? Could you do that? How can they do that? Who are those guys?”

He then gave me the universal sign for “Throw me the ball.” Which I did. He caught it just fine but I remember thinking - as I gave him the throw it back sign - for a split second I worried if Butch Cassidy wouldn’t be able to throw a spiral or, even worse, if he threw like a girl.

No worries. Back came a tight spiral. We must have tossed it a couple of times – at least I think it was a couple - and then he walked over and I shook his hand. Not to get all Clay Aiken, but his eyes were amazingly blue - just this side of creepy - and he was one damn good looking dude. But I was most aware of how thin the guy was. And I mean small boned. My big mitt almost wrapped around his entire hand. Make no mistake about it, though, the man had the presence and aura of a King. A real class act.

Yes, Slattlies and Nuggsters, the Lexter Dexter had a brief game of catch with Cool Hand Luke.

Lex’s Paul Newman story #2.

A couple years later, a quirky guy we worked with - among other quirks the guy would fall asleep at the drop of the hat - came in with an amazing story of the night before. For a young guy on a limited salary, this guy, who we called Shappy, somehow owned a house in the very rich town of Greenwich Connecticut and commuted in by train.

Shap was on the train home sitting next to a very pleasant woman about his age and they struck up a friendly conversation. Suddenly she popped up as it was her station. (His was the next one) After she had gone, Shap noticed she had left her purse. Shapper took the purse with him, got home and called a number he found in the purse and, sure enough, it was her number.

She thanked him profusely for grabbing the purse and then asked if she could ask him a huge favor. She said she couldn’t drive without the glasses she left in the purse and would he mind bringing them over to her house. No problem, they only lived a mile or so away.

Shapp pulls into the long circular driveway of a big and beautiful – even for Greenwich Connecticut - home and who opens the door? Joanne Woodward. Then Paul Newman came up coffee mug in hand – I remember being disappointed it wasn’t a beer. But then he asked Shap if he wanted a beer. Bless his quirky heart, Shep took him up on it. Turns out the girl was Paul and Joanne’s daughter, Melissa. All of them thanked him profusely again.

They then asked if he wanted anything to eat – he said no – and if he wanted a tour, to which he said yes. Paul took him out to this huge barn-like structure which Paul – I call him Paul because we were so tight – gave Shap a guided tour of his vast car collection. He even told him the story of the car Robert Redford stole and returned crushed into a three by three by three block. To which Newman famously sent it back with the note:

“Thanks for the car, but I am going to have to return it because the F’er won’t start.”

Again, class, humor, good looks, great athlete, style, grace.

There are just so damn few of us.