A 20-year-old Colorado man, Dylan McWilliams, has survived a rattlesnake bite, a bear bite and a shark bite. Or as I call them:

Three things that cannot happen on my couch.

Dylan might want to lay off the KFC fried-chicken-scented sunscreen.

Dylan is not as macho as he sounds. He celebrated surviving each bite by having an appletini in fern bar while crying to Adele’s “Hello” on the jukebox. 



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Congratulations to Kate and Prince William on their baby boy. No name yet, but they are not going to let the Internet name him Baby McBabyface.  

In a perfect world, Kate and Willy name the baby Prince so he would be Prince Prince. The royal so nice they named him twice.


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Stormy Daniels started in pornography back in 2002. Back then she was so young, she was Partly Cloudy Daniels.


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87-year-old Florida man has given over 100 gallons of blood in his lifetime. A little scary when he was asked why he give so much of his blood, he said, “Who said the blood was mine?” 


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Porn Star, Jessica Drake, said, in 2006, she turned down an offer of $10,000 to have sex with Donald Trump. As all guys know, getting turned down for sex is bad enough, getting turned down for sex after offering $10,000? That has to leave a mark.


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Porn Star, Jessica Drake, backs up Stormy Daniels’s story. Drake has known Stormy Daniels so long, she knew her when she was just Slightly Overcast Daniels.
  

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Amy Schumer’s movie “I Feel Pretty” had a weak opening. Now Schumer claims she is writing a western parody about a black sheriff she is going to name “Blazing Saddles.”  


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Stormy Daniels real name is Stephanie Gregory. She wanted a name that was a weather condition and an American whisky. Much better than her first idea, Muggy Knob Creek. 



Since you asked:

So some Colorado guy survives a shark bite, a rattlesnake bite and a bear bite. What is most impressive to me is how the shark survived being in Colorado.

So I decide to watch "Apollo 13" about steely-eyed missile men who calculate space flights in their head and build a carbon dioxide filter out of garbage. Meanwhile, it takes me 10 minutes to dial up the movie using the Search feature on my remote.

"Are there two P's and one L, or Two L's and one P? And is it the number 13 or the word Thirteen?" 

Gross Pointe Blanked

So there I was, waiting in the VIP room behind the NBC studio where they tape “The Tonight Show with Jay Leno” circa 2004. As I had been contributing freelance jokes for years, I decided to take Jay’s wonderful assistant, Lisa, up on her and Jay’s generous offer to see the show for about the sixth time.

In the VIP lounge in a big, fancy trailer behind the studio was a group of attractive women in their late teens, early twenties who, by my powers of eavesdropping, I found out were from the extremely wealthy Michigan town of Gross Pointe. With an E.

Clearly their parents were connected to top NBC executives, and theses girls were dressed to the teeth for their trip to Hollywood. Midwestern classy, but way-hoochie-momma’d up. Lots of long hair, lots of legs.  

They needed a breathing body to take their picture and I did not qualify. They looked up and down for Justin Bieber or Justin Timberlake, or Ryan Reynolds or Ryan Phillips, any Justin or a Ryan would do. Anyone but a then 40-ish married father dude like moi. 

Out of sheer frustration and desperation, one of them said to me, without making eye-contact, 

“Could you take our picture?”  

Despite her curtness, I decided to try and have fun with it and make a joke before taking the picture. No lie, one of them snapped,

“Just take the picture, please.”

Wow.

After a couple of snaps, she snatched the camera, or phone, I don’t remember which, out of my hand as if I was giving it E. Coli and without so much as a “Thanks, old guy.” 

It’s official, I remember thinking, I am now one of those older cranks who laments about the poor manners of our youth. And, in full candor, the part of me that thought I still had any game with young hot women took a solid shot to the groin. 

When it was time to take our seats for the taping, they guided all of us from the VIP room, including my new friends from Gross Pointe, around to the front of the studio past all the poor folks who had stood in line all day in the heat. They looked at us like, 

“Wow, who are these famous people?”

Fame would generally suck, but that is not a bad way to get looked at, let me tell you. That is when you wish every ex you ever had was in that line.

Once we got inside the studio, everyone else, including the girls from Gross Pointe, were directed to their seats in the balcony. The stage manager, however, took me backstage to the green room.

Inside the green room was every fruit, appetizer and beverage you could want and it even included one famous CBS sports announcer, Greg Gumbel. 

(All I will say about Greg - besides being quite tall - is, if he is the nicer Gumbel, I never want to meet Bryant. In the green room, I would find out later, Greg assumed I was the head writer of “TTSWJL” so he was civil to me. Barely. Later, during a pause for commercial break the show, when I told him I was a freelancer, Greg stopped talking to me as if I had vanished into thin air) 

But back to the green room before the show.

Right before the band - which is amazing in person, much better than on TV- started playing the opening theme, the stage director walked me and my-then-buddy-Greg through the curtain across the stage to our seats right next to the band in front. 

In the balcony right in front of me were the girls from Gross Pointe. When they saw me and Greg, they leapt to their feet and started yelling and screaming,

“You who. Hey there, remember us? Hello? You hoo, you took our picture. Hey, picture man, hi there.”

It took most everything I had to utterly ignore them and say out of the side of my mouth to Greg, 

“Fans. What a pain in the ass. Am I right?”