This just in:
In their last storm, parts of Southern California got over two inches of rain in one day. Or as they call that on the East Coast: Still not snow, you mambie pambie Jack Wagons.
The NFL has fined Brett Favre $50,000 for texting pictures of his junk to a female reporter. $50,000, or, roughly, $12, 500 per inch.
Hey oh.
Just saw a recipe for a fried banana and peanut butter and bourbon sandwich. Now if you could just pack in uppers, downers and smothering sycophants, it would be everything that killed Elvis.
Conan explained by a dumb guy.
As a huge fan of the Conan O'Brien, I think I've figured out how to describe a key factor in his likability: Conan is that rarest commodities; a really smart guy who doesn't shove his superiority down our dumb-ass throats.
(Sorry other really smart guys, you know how your mother told you we didn't like you because we were jealous, but deep down you knew we just didn't like you? You were right. But, hey, that's what makes you smarter than us)
Another aspect of the Conesky O'Bonesky I dig is his humor isn't malicious. (Yes, I can be guilty of that) He, the Bone-man, is the most often used target of his wit. His hair, his lanky body, his they're-so-tragically-bad- they're-funny dance moves. His horribly hammy and ham-fisted pick up lines and cat purrrs.
Conan's attitude and comfort with his superior brain reminds me of when I went to a Del Mar party full of members of Seal Team One. When I heard the Seals would be at the party, I cringed with a stereotype concept of a bunch of crazy macho muscle car type guys getting hammered and acting obnoxious.
Not the case at all. The Seals were almost eerily calm and comfortable. Then it hit me. Why wouldn't they be calm? They know they can kill everyone else with their thumbs if they had to.
Conan knows - if angered like the Hulk - he could double-snap your head and shatter your neck with his wit if he had a mind to. But he sits there serene with his vast talent. Or, in a chicken and egg way, maybe it is his talent that make him serene?
Who knows, Slattinas and Nuggaloids? Who knows?
All I know there are operatives in Vietnam who are depending on me to get to the drop zone, stat. Xbox, "Call of Duty: Black Ops" here I come. Get ready to turn into clam chowder, brain.
Reason # 7,845 Why I love this country:
One second I am gunning down countless Vietcong screaming at the Xbox:
"Get some, get some, you know you love my hot lead, you commie bastards, so eat it motherf*ckers. Ha, ha, ah."
Doorbell rings, next second I am saying to adorable next door neighbor 5-year-old grand daughter, Keelie;
"Was Santa good to you? You got an American Girl doll? You must have been a good girl. No honey, Ann Caroline is on a sleep over. She'll play tomorrow. Bye, bye."
Close the door. Turn Xbox back on.
"You want some too? Hahahahahhahaha. How about a little more American sunshine up your @ss? Get some."
In their last storm, parts of Southern California got over two inches of rain in one day. Or as they call that on the East Coast: Still not snow, you mambie pambie Jack Wagons.
The NFL has fined Brett Favre $50,000 for texting pictures of his junk to a female reporter. $50,000, or, roughly, $12, 500 per inch.
Hey oh.
Just saw a recipe for a fried banana and peanut butter and bourbon sandwich. Now if you could just pack in uppers, downers and smothering sycophants, it would be everything that killed Elvis.
Conan explained by a dumb guy.
As a huge fan of the Conan O'Brien, I think I've figured out how to describe a key factor in his likability: Conan is that rarest commodities; a really smart guy who doesn't shove his superiority down our dumb-ass throats.
(Sorry other really smart guys, you know how your mother told you we didn't like you because we were jealous, but deep down you knew we just didn't like you? You were right. But, hey, that's what makes you smarter than us)
Another aspect of the Conesky O'Bonesky I dig is his humor isn't malicious. (Yes, I can be guilty of that) He, the Bone-man, is the most often used target of his wit. His hair, his lanky body, his they're-so-tragically-bad- they're-funny dance moves. His horribly hammy and ham-fisted pick up lines and cat purrrs.
Conan's attitude and comfort with his superior brain reminds me of when I went to a Del Mar party full of members of Seal Team One. When I heard the Seals would be at the party, I cringed with a stereotype concept of a bunch of crazy macho muscle car type guys getting hammered and acting obnoxious.
Not the case at all. The Seals were almost eerily calm and comfortable. Then it hit me. Why wouldn't they be calm? They know they can kill everyone else with their thumbs if they had to.
Conan knows - if angered like the Hulk - he could double-snap your head and shatter your neck with his wit if he had a mind to. But he sits there serene with his vast talent. Or, in a chicken and egg way, maybe it is his talent that make him serene?
Who knows, Slattinas and Nuggaloids? Who knows?
All I know there are operatives in Vietnam who are depending on me to get to the drop zone, stat. Xbox, "Call of Duty: Black Ops" here I come. Get ready to turn into clam chowder, brain.
Reason # 7,845 Why I love this country:
One second I am gunning down countless Vietcong screaming at the Xbox:
"Get some, get some, you know you love my hot lead, you commie bastards, so eat it motherf*ckers. Ha, ha, ah."
Doorbell rings, next second I am saying to adorable next door neighbor 5-year-old grand daughter, Keelie;
"Was Santa good to you? You got an American Girl doll? You must have been a good girl. No honey, Ann Caroline is on a sleep over. She'll play tomorrow. Bye, bye."
Close the door. Turn Xbox back on.
"You want some too? Hahahahahhahaha. How about a little more American sunshine up your @ss? Get some."
posted by Alex at
12:29 PM
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