"What the hell are you doin'?"
Here we use only sustainable, organic and gluten-free seasonal jokes. Comedy, satire, sports, editor and occasional cooking tips writer, Alex Kaseberg. E-mail to - or if you need to hire a comedy writer - email@example.com
Yo Mama wear pajama, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers
Newt Gingrich had to lay off a large number of his campaign staff; upon hearing this, his wife, Calista, was shocked and horrified. Or ecstatic and delighted, we can’t really tell.
A Kentucky fan put an ad on Craigslist offering his wife in exchange for tickets to see Kentucky play in New Orleans. I don’t want to say this guy is a hick, but he is also throwing in his sister. Turns out his wife and sister are one in the same.
Louisville and Kentucky are in the NCAA final four. There is a difference between the fans. Louisville fans consider it rude not to say Sir and Maam. Kentucky fans consider it rude not to take off muddy hunting boots before climbing into bed with their cousin.
Is everyone on Facebook and Twitter? Here is some good advice: do not friend or follow anyone on a diet. You will see a picture and description of every single thing they eat. I’ve lost weight from getting sick reading about them.
A Jetblue flight from New York to Las Vegas had to be diverted to Texas because the pilot went berserk. Apparently he became furious when he suspected Alec Baldwin was cheating in their game of Words With Friends.
A group led by Magic Johnson has purchased the LA Dodgers for $2 billion. The only thing Magic about the Dodgers before this was how they made fans disappear.
Since you asked:
Golf is an interesting sport to me because it seems to require a certain type of personality to be good at it. Yes, there is athleticism, but it seems to require a certain amount of fastidiousness. Most good golfers have nice clothes and clean cars.
To put it in “Odd Couple” terms, Felix would be awesome at golf, Oscar a hack.
Me? Way too much of a slob to be good at golf. My personality is perfectly suited for rugby. Knock the crap out of an opponent and then take him to a bar afterwards and regale him with dick jokes.
Golfers have the best kind of OCD that results in business success. They have a lot of business contacts who are friends. They are polite, well-mannered and say nice things about people or they don’t say anything at all. They like their cocktails and steak and may be – or used to be – quite a player with the laaaaaadies. (That much I have in common with them)
A lot of good golfers talk in joke/clichés and it really makes them chuckle:
Ball lands in the trap. “Hey, good for you, you’re on the beach.”
Ball lands on the green on the opposite side of the hole. “I’m on the dance floor, but I can’t hear the music.”
Earnest driving advice; “You’re problem is you’re standing too close to the ball (wait for it) after you hit it.
And of course an endless supply of “Caddy Shack” lines, of which I am still guilty.
The rumor is “Jersey Shore” is looking to get rid of Snooki and Mike “The Situation” Serrentino because he’s in rehab and she is single and pregnant. That is pretty pathetic when you’re considered not classy enough for “Jersey Shore.”
Kentucky and Louisville are in the final four; Kentucky and Louisville are different; to Louisville a tie is like kissing your sister. To Kentucky a win is like kissing your cousin. The really hot cousin.
Mitt Romney was in San Diego. No, he was in Mexico. He’s in San Diego. Or is he?
Dick Cheney is recovering well after a heart transplant; he is breathing well but quite loudly out of that Darth Vader mask and chest plate.
Remember that sleazebag Dominic Strauss-Kahn who was charged with raping the New York maid? Now he has been charged with using a prostitution ring. Who does this clown think he is? The French John Edwards?
Since you asked:
For the rest of the day I am calling Wrigley Mookie. We’ve been pretty sad around here due to friends who had a tragedy and Wrigley has sensed that and has picked up his game.
Normally affectionate, Wrigley has turned into a cuddle bunny of epic proportions.
Wrigley is not always a good dog. Nothing major, just barking, digging, chewing.
But he has always been a great friend.
Wrigley truly is a humorous dog. Some dogs are funny, some are not. Kasey was adorable, fun, smart, sweet. But not funny. She was way too serious about getting fed.
Wrigley is just a loveable clown. The other night Virg and I are watching "Worst Chefs" which is wildly entertaining. Have grown to like Bobby Flay and I like Anne Burrell, although she is not as likeable in this format as she is on her show "Secrets of a Restaurant Chef".
I am on the couch multitasking on my laptop and Virg is doing likewise at the counter in the Kitchen. So Wrigley positions himself on the rug where he can see both of us. Virg is at 10:00 o'clock, I am at 2:00, so Wrigley is at six. He looks at me when I make a comment, then looks at Virg.
Suddenly he gets sleepy, so he puts his head down, but he doesn't want to miss any of the stellar conversation. So when Virg talked, he tilted his head to the left and raised his left eyebrow. When I said something, he tilted his head to the right and raised his right eyebrow. Then he started to fall asleep. So when Virg said something, he just opened his left eye. When I said something, his right.
Trust me, it was funny.
Believe me, I know dogs are not people. But they are members of the family. And what more can you say about a family member who cracks you up from the time they wake up to the time they flop down to sleep making an old man grunt noise?
To An Athlete Dying Young
The time you won your town the race
We chaired you through the market-place;
Man and boy stood cheering by,
And home we brought you shoulder-high.
To-day, the road all runners come,
Shoulder-high we bring you home,
And set you at your threshold down,
Townsman of a stiller town.
Smart lad, to slip betimes away
From fields were glory does not stay
And early though the laurel grows
It withers quicker than the rose.
Eyes the shady night has shut
Cannot see the record cut,
And silence sounds no worse than cheers
After earth has stopped the ears:
Now you will not swell the rout
Of lads that wore their honours out,
Runners whom renown outran
And the name died before the man.
So set, before its echoes fade,
The fleet foot on the sill of shade,
And hold to the low lintel up
The still-defended challenge-cup.
And round that early-laurelled head
Will flock to gaze the strengthless dead,
And find unwithered on its curls
The garland briefer than a girl's.