Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Get wit it ‘till ya quit it, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers

It was so hot in New York, people went to a Mets game just to see their playoff chances cool off.

Comic-Con, a four day long convention honoring comic books and science fiction, ended in San Diego last week. In a related story, the San Diego hookers are rested after those four days off.

It was hot in New York City. In Manhattan people were sweating like Mel Gibson at a Snoop Dog concert.

It was hot in New York City. In Manhattan the taxicab drivers were shoving popsicles up their turbans.

It was hot in New York City. In Manhattan the taxicab drivers rubbed their pine scented car freshener on their under arms.

It was so hot in New York City, the Times Square hookers were offering a Mel Gibson special: for an extra $100 they’ll swear at you until your career is cold.

BP’s little weasel CEO, Tony Hayward, stepped down. The good news for Hayward? He gets a $23 million bonus. The bad news? They are paying him in crude oil redeemable on the beaches of the Gulf of Mexico.

In Cardiff, an oft-mocked surfer statue was surrounded by a 20-foot fake shark. Why is the statue mocked? Surfer’s say the statue’s pose is a little too flamboyant. How flamboyant? Let’s just say the Cardiff surf statue makes Adam Lambert look like Tom Brady.

In Cardiff, an oft-mocked surfing statue was engulfed by a 20-foot fake shark. Why is the surfer statue mocked? The surfer’s pose is a considered, well, too flamboyant. On a movie scale, the statue is closer to “Twilight Saga: Eclipse” than the more macho “Brokeback Mountain.”

Since you asked:

Whew doggies, I went old school on my own tuchus last nicht.

Thawed an Omaha Steak filet mignon and marinated it in olive oil and garlic powder. Seared just a minute each side then put on lower heat until perfectly medium rare. Pink and juicy, no cold parts, no grey dry parts. Smothered in A1 sauce sprinkled with sea salt.

Served with Omaha’s au gratin potatoes, which are really like big, hacky sack-sized tater tots drizzled in ketchup and a shredded carrot and iceberg salad with Ranch dressing. Glass of Cabernet and a DVR’d Cubs game.

It was like I was magically transported to a nice Wisconsin roadside diner in the mid-seventies. All that was missing was a nice waitress named Fran who called me honey or dear, a noisy air conditioner blasting, an appetizer of deep fried onion rings the size of my head and an Old Style beer in a frosty bar glass.

The walleyes are bitin’ down by dah lake donchya know.

You might find this interesting:

I was watching "Disney Channel" "Sweet Life of Zach and Cody" over my daughter, Ann Caroline's, shoulder, suddenly my IQ dropped 40 points. Now I have an amazing desire to become an Oakland Raider fan.

P.S. Dear Oakland Raiders. The same deal applies to you as it does to France, Nike, Tiger Woods and Paris Hilton. Pay me $10,000 and I will stop making jokes about you for an entire year. Call me a comedy writing slut-bag b*tch whore, I don't mind.