The band - The Weight (Take a load off Annie/Fanny)

Wally Waldorf, King of the Kerfuffle

Hamilton College is offering a class for women on how to have an orgasm; they were going to make the class available for men, but they couldn’t find it.

Dear Hollywood:

What the effing ess is wrong with your ass? Why haven't you made a re-make of Dan Jenkins's "Semi-Tough"? The book was as awesome and hilarious as the movie with Burt Reynolds and Kris Kristopherson was horrid. It, the movie, was a testament to the damage caused by a-holes on cocaine in the Seventies. 

Here is an interesting story (oh, I am suuuurrrre it is. All really great stories start with: here's an interesting story) Easy, inner tirade. Pssst. Inner tirade has a poopy diaper.

Had this joke on “TTSWJL”

“A North Carolina woman stabbed her roommate because she claims he would not stop playing Eagles music. He’s OK, apparently she stabbed him with those steely knives, but she just couldn’t kill the beast.”

More clever than funny.

The joke before this one killed. (Can’t remember what it was) Jay sees this one on the cue card and gets visibly uneasy and lets out and audible “Ahhhhh” as in “Oh no, not this one.” He takes a beat, turns to the band and actually says;

“This is the dumbest joke of the night.”

Clearly Jay did not want this one in, but the head writer must have fought for it.

To his credit, always the pro, like it or not, Jay muscled it out perfectly, great delivery, and it got the double: band fanfare and applause. In truth, more applause than laughter. But lots of applause. Jay actually had to pause a brief second before doing the next one.

Jay, clearly surprised by this reaction, turned to the head writer who sits stage right and then shakes his head again in a “I can’t believe that worked” way. Followed by a "Oh no, now he is going to fight for more of that kind of stupid crap" look. 

Then he closed with a cat video which really killed.  

This is how we do how we do how we do how we doooooooooo, #HowWeDo, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers

We had something like 30 days-in-a-row of over 90 degrees; a few nights ago, I watched “Dr. Zhivago” just for the winter scenes and I felt like I was watching porn. “Oh, wow, Julie Christie is wearing a coat in the house.”

Burger King has new lower-calorie French Fries they call Satisfries. Burger King offering healthier French fries is like a hooker offering to cuddle after sex.

R.T.’s.

Getting “Grand Theft Auto 5” for the man-cave. Goodbye IQ for a few days.

Heart’s Nancy Wilson’s high kicks on her guitar power chords provide me with an emotion that is impossible to describe. Cool? Sexy? Weird?

Just had an epiphany. Not passing judgment, but the coolest, studliest, most macho guy in our high school was in the throes of wildly over-compensating deep, deep homosexual panic. We battled over the affections of the arguably coolest girl in school. But I now realize he admired her in a “I wish I was her” kind of way. He acted as hard as a guy can, but he could not hide his ability to dance, his love of fashion and his almost girlish curly hair and good looks.  He was brilliant, sensitive and insanely neat. Gay, gay, gay and gay.

Wally came to the door with so much mud on his face he was looking like he was in black-face for a Minstrel show. Had to hose him off and he did not like it. After drying him off, he has been pouting and sulking for the whole day.

My new band name is Saskatoon Bodingus. We're opening for Jumpin' Jolly and the June-bugs at the Belly Up

There are such things as generational athletes. They come along about once a generation and they come trailing myths and legends. Bo Jackson jumping over a 30 foot creek; John Elway throwing a strike to home from against the center field wall in Yankee Stadium; Joe Namath being the best football player Bear Bryant ever saw; Gale Sayers out-running a dog in an alley during a game of tackle football on the pavement; Jim Brown winning the high jump at a Syracuse track meet while warming up for Lacrosse; Mickey Mantle’s tape measure home runs on one knee; Joe Montana saying “Hey, there’s John Candy” right before leading a comeback win in the Super Bowl.

Friends of ours daughter is one of those: Carly Wopat, Stanford’s middle blocker. She is 6.2, can jump out of the gym and hits a ball with amazing skill and power. Most of all she is pure and simply a winner. She is wise beyond her years - in part because life has forced her to be so.

Amazing things are in her future and it is going to be fun to watch.  

Baltimore Ravens receiver, Jacoby Jones, was injured when a stripper hit him in the head with a bottle; authorities are not sure if Chardonnay hit him with a Brandy bottle or Brandy hit him with a Chardonnay bottle. 


Random Thoughts:


My new band is Dirty John and the Saskatoons.

America's Cup racing is so white it makes a Polo match look like a hood hoop game. 

Arizona safety, Rashad Johnson, lost the tip of his middle finger and posted a picture of it on Twitter. Let's all hope he doesn't get hemorrhoids.

Wally's latest nickname: Waldorf. Has the dorf already in it.

 America's Cup yachting is so white, the trash talking is: 

"Your matriarch is so plus-sized, her cotillion dress is a spinnaker." 

Can't Find My Way Home - Bonnie Raitt & Lowell George & John Hammond J...

Shred Dog Surfs Del Mar