Green Bay About to Drop the Tres* on this Fray, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers

Did you hear about “Today” show weatherman, Al Roker’s confession that he pooped his pants at the White House? It’s all in his new book titled: “Hey, Biden, Pull My Finger, Oh Crap.”

Kanye West and Kim Kardashian are having a baby. That will be a tough one for the delivery doctor, he’ll have to decide between spanking the baby or slapping the parents.

Prostitutes in Brazil are learning English for the upcoming soccer World Cup. Because their customers are soccer fans, the hookers are learning key phrases like, “Yes, you can use your hands,” “No, you can’t dribble before you shoot,” and “That’s not a header.”

Three-time Olympic runner, Suzy Favor Hamilton, admitted she worked as a Las Vegas call girl. From Olympian to hooker, that’s a Tiger Woods-like fall.

Congress’s approval rating is 9%. That means 91% of people think all congress does is constantly jerk us around. Congress doesn’t like the term constantly jerking us around; they prefer the term: tantric masturbation.

The movie “Lincoln” received 12 Oscar nominations. Even Kim Kardashian and Kanye West are going to see “Lincoln,” they can’t wait to find out how it ends.

*Clay Matthews III did that Depends commercial. How much did they pay Clay? Not enough to make up for the crap he got in the locker room. 


Since you asked:

Sitcoms offer a great reverse view of what we think our society is and what our society really is. 

Most sitcoms have to have a mission statement or goal. “The Cosby Show” set out to debunk ethnic stereotypes about African Americans. It went after this goal so hard and self-righteously it became almost a stereotype of White Americans portrayed by African Americans.

It also became preachy and seriously not funny. When the ratings started to dwindle  due to the heavy-handedness? Bring in another cute little African American girl.

“Seinfeld” took a lesson from this mistake and their mission statement became to be the opposite of “The Cosby Show.” No morals, no lessons, no good dancing, no hugging and no ugly sweaters. And no cute little African American girls. Hell, practically no African Americans period. 

The brilliance of all the Christopher Guest mockumentaries, “Like Best in Show” and “A Mighty Wind” and “Waiting for Guffman” is that you cannot go wrong mocking a segment of our society that take itself too seriously. 

(Why they haven’t made a movie about soccer parents is a mystery to me. Like the seriously devoted born-again-Christian soccer mom who screamed; “That’s not a f*cking foul”)

“Girls” does this too.

Although it was long overdue, women’s right’s activists and feminists had free license to castrate any male who claimed there was anything men could do that women could not. This also followed with our national obsession with political correctness triumphing over common sense.

All through the ‘70’s, 80’ and ‘90’s, anyone who hinted that men and women were different in any way was beaten to the ground with a self-righteous P.C. stick. Even though we all knew that wasn't true. Although just as smart and capable as one another, there are differences between men and women. Viva la difference. 

Then “Sex And the City” came along and was cutting edge in its admission that women like to shop, gossip, talk-dirty, have periods, drink, brunch and have sex. (And live in the most expensive sections of Manhattan without seemingly ever having to go to a job)

“Girls” has now done to “Sex and the City” what “Seinfeld” did to “The Cosby Show.” When “Sex and the City” became a joke about itself, we needed something more realistic.

As great as “Girls” is, and it is great, as a father of a 14-year-old, it is hard to watch. 

(Let’s go ahead and nominate Brian Williams for Father of the Year for allowing his beautiful daughter, Allison, to do what she does in this show. And she does a lot)

Cop a squat, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers

Man was it windy yesterday. It was blowing like the Lakers in the fourth quarter.

Charlie Sheen is seriously dating a porn star because he said this girl is faithful because she only does girl-on-girl porn. I think her name is Greek: Gina Lickalotapuss.

Oprah Winfrey is going to interview Lance Armstrong. Why would a once-world famous, but now washed-out steroid user want to do that? And besides Oprah, what’s in it for Lance?

A company, Mars One, is planning a trip to colonize Mars and needs volunteers who agree to go to Mars and never come back to earth. I think I speak for all of us when I wish bon voyage to the Kardashians, the cast of “Jersey Shore,” the Aflac duck, Paris Hilton and Donald Trump. 

Taco Bell made a customized Taco Bell Speedo at the request of a customer. Is that a burrito in your Speedo or are you happy to see me?

Man it was cold this morning. I was shaking like Brett Musburger at his marriage counselor session.

Man it was cold, I was shivering like a dry cleaner with Al Roker walking through the door.

A biographer of journalist, Dr. Hunter S. Thompson, revealed Thompson’s daily intake. It included waking up at 3:00 PM to cigarettes, coffee, scotch and cocaine. More scotch, cigarettes and cocaine, lunch of beer, margaritas, two cheeseburgers, onion rings, more cocaine, a hit of acid and more cocaine and scotch until six am. Or as Charlie Sheen calls this: Duh, winning.

Classic Wally moment last night.

We’d finished dinner, A.C. was getting ready to go upstairs and do homework and Virg was working on a customer’s loan on her computer, I was on the floor absorbed in a “Top Chef” marathon, when Ann Caroline and Virg start cuddling and fussing over Wally.

Right when Virg says out loud what a great, smart and well-behaved puppy we have, Wally gets shot with a full-blown case of puppy frenzy, takes off running, jumps up on the coffee table and hits my full glass of red wine with such force it sends the wine flying five feet on to the wall and the oriental rug.

Wally also had a huge red wine stain on his fur.

So, last night, I called him Gorbachev.

You can’t say yes and you can’t say no, just be right there when the whistle blows, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers

Nobody qualified for the 2013 induction into the Baseball Hall of Fame. To give you an idea, steroid user Barry Bonds chances of getting into the Hall are smaller than Bond’s shrunken testicles.

Even with something like 20 candidates, nobody qualified for the 2013 induction into the Baseball Hall of Fame. It’s like the Hall of Fame is harder to get into than Taylor Swift.

In Springfield, Illinois, a priest had to call police because he was left in the church basement in handcuffs wearing a leather S&M mask and a ball gag in his mouth. The priest is writing a book about it. It’s called “50 Shades of Gay.”

My favorite part of this is how hard was the person laughing when they left him like that?

A 43-year-old North Carolina high school teacher was arrested for having sex with her male 17-year-old student. She claims she was helping him with his math by showing him how many times 17 goes into 43.

Since you asked:

What do we know about the known baseball steroid cheats? Besides they can hit a baseball a mile, or throw it 100 MPH, and they have big muscles.

They are all unmitigated and unashamed A$$holes.

We didn’t know the extent that Rafael Palmeiro and Mark McGwire were A$$holes until they pompously lied to congress. We suspected Sammy Sosa was an A$$hole when known great-guy players, like Mark Grace, despised him.

Barry Bonds? Come on. Jose Conseco? A stupid A$$hole. Alex Rodriguez sets the tone for all modern day A$$holes.

Roger Clemens was such an A$$hole he ruined a man’s life, his personal trainer, sending him to prison. He had sex with a 16-year-old singer.

Cheating in sports is like pornography, hard to define, but you know it when you see it. Stealing signs? No. Lying to the base runner about what is going to happen? No. Loading up the ball? Not if you don’t get caught.

But corking a bat is cheating, just like taking steroids is cheating. And someone has to be an unmitigated A$$hole to knowingly and repeatedly cheat at the sport they presumably love.

Nobody said character is a determining factor in getting into the Hall of Fame. Babe Ruth and Ty Cobb were colossal A$$holes, both probably killed people driving drunk, and yet they belong in the Hall.

If the rules on betting on baseball weren't so specific following the Black Sox scandal, then Pete Rose, a shameless A$$hole, should be in the Hall of Fame. But they are and he isn't and shouldn't be. 

All things being equal, maybe Pete Rose is in the Hall of Fame. But because the rules against betting on baseball are so clear, the question is: was Pete Rose so great you can overlook those rules? The answer is no. Owning a record does not assure induction. Look at Roger Maris. 

Pete Rose was arguably only the fifth best player on his own team behind Johnny Bench, Joe Morgan, Tom Seaver and Pete Perez. Maybe. Ken Griffey Senior? 

I’ve got it on unquestionable authority from someone who was involved in a sports marketing transaction that Willy Mays is an unbelievably bitter A$$hole. Joe DiMaggio was an A$$hole. Mickey Mantle was popular with his teammates, but his own kids, his ex-wife and thousands of mistreated fans know he was an A$$hole.

Being an A$$hole doesn’t keep you out of the Hall of Fame. But it is a good indicator of who would cheat with steroids. No doubt in my mind if steroids had been around long before, Mays, Mantle, DiMaggio, Ruth and Cobb would have all used steroids.

But they weren’t and they didn’t.  

A true class act

In sad news, a TV icon, Huell Howser passed away at 67. He did PBS shows on places of interest in California called “California’s Gold.” You think Arnold Schwarzenegger is upbeat? Huell Howser made Arnold seem like Steven Wright. (Loud Tennessee accent) “You mean to tell me your dog took a poop right there? Amaaaaaaazing.” 

Just kidding, of course. Big fan of the Huell. He was like Mr. Rogers, he was so corny he was cool. Talk about contagious enthusiasm. He will be missed. 

They just aren't making them like Huell Howser anymore. 


Since you asked, 
There is a famous roadside stand that serves date shakes near the California/Arizona border on Interstate 8. You have to try a date shake once and once only; they start out tasting amazing and then slowly fade to cloying.

But that isn't best part. 

The best part are the grumpy old women who serve them. These angry witches hate everyone and everybody. 

We were standing in line outside when this one old woman shut the window panel in our faces.

So we ventured inside to the long line. They would snarl at the customers and practically throw their change back in their faces. 

The soup Nazi? He was Regis Philbin by comparison. 

It was so funny, at one point I started a loud diatribe everyone could hear;

"Wow, isn't it wonderful seeing cheerful people doing what they love?  It can just make your day. They say friendly service is a dying art? Not here at the date shake place. "

People in line were trying not to snicker and losing. The angry old date shake witches? If looks could kill, I  would be dead.

On an episode of "California's Gold", Huell Howser stormed that place and charmed the brooms right out from under these hell hags. 

He was amazing.