Saturday, February 16, 2002

Right before President Bush left on his Asia tour, he got a call from his Dad who gave him some advice: Sushi? Wouldn’t be prudent. No Sushi at this juncture . . .

His Dad told him that if he eats the Sushi at a banquet in Japan, he’ll wish he choked on a pretzel.

Next Olympics, along with the Super G, they are going to include the Kenny G: it’s a contest to see who can listen to his music the longest without falling asleep. I watched a bi-athlon race at the Olympics. These guys are cross-country skiing with guns strapped on their backs; it has to occur to the guy in second place, if only for a moment, to take out the guy in first.
Is anyone reading this thing? Define a Torn Whore and a Nugget Rancher and E-Mail me.
Sylvester Stallone filed a $17.3 million lawsuit against a manager who urged him to hold onto Planet Hollywood stock as the share price fell and the company went bankrupt. Stallone also filed a lawsuit against Bruce Willis because, at every Planet Hollywood opening, Stallone had to listen to Willis sing.

The manager claims he thought Stallone had sold the stock because everyone said he was short. A little stock broker humor there. See, being short is an investment term for not owning - or even owing - a stock. And Stallone is a midget. Get it? Short? A prime example that humor is like a frog; you can dissect it, but it will die.

I was a stock broker and a Wall Street bond broker. (Worked one half a block from the former WTC - still can't believe it's not there) As a Wall Street investment type, I was a tremendous comedy writer. Whatever images you have of Wall Street Brokers sequestered in oak-paneled libraries, smoking pipes and dispensing wisdom can go right out the window. Picture a bunch of hungover, rumpled, gas-ridden guys in a messy room filled with phallanx of phone banks and computers yelling things that would be far to disgusting to be uttered in a minor league baseball club house.

People always remark that it must be a big switch from Wall Street bond trading to comedy. Not at all. Timely joke telling was my badge of honor and a real asset for my clients. On Wall Street, jokes are like all timely information; you are judged by how well-connected you are. Tell a big shot client an old joke and he will label you as woefully out of touch.

Jokes on Wall Street circulate so quickly that I remember thinking that there must be a guy at each huge firm, like Soloman Brothers, who does nothing but read papers and write jokes. Man, I thought, what a great job that would be. Well, guess what? That is pretty much what I do. Kinda cool, huh?

In a complaint filed against the "Miss Cleo" psychic hotline, the Federal Trade Commission said as many as 6 million consumers may have been duped by their false TV ads. Apparently Miss Cleo did not see this coming, but she did know that the guy who filed the complaint only has one testicle.

Friday, February 15, 2002

A mob of Muslim pilgrims, enraged over flight delays for the pilgrimage to the Islamic holy city of Mecca, stormed a plane at Kabul airport and beat Afghanistan's aviation minister to death, tossing his body to the tarmac. The pilgrims were in a hurry to get to Mecca to pray for peace, love, joy and harmony.

The good news, Torn Whores and Nugget Ranchers, is that they decided that the Canadian skating team will be awarded a gold medal. The even better news is that the gold medal will be made from the fillings of the French Judge’s teeth.

A Russian skater won the Olympic Men’s Figure skating gold medal. What a shock. I glanced at the figure skating rulebook, and the way it works is that in order for a Russian to lose, they would have to come out, down a fifth of Vodka, flip off the judges, and then take a nap at center ice for the duration of their routine. After he finished his gold medal winning skate, Russian Alexei Yugadan, bent over and kissed the ice. Apparently he had met and kissed Hillary Clinton earlier and he needed to warm up his lips.

Former Yugoslav president Slobodan Milosevic told the Tribunal trying him for war crimes that it was not competent to judge him. He’s not worried about being convicted; he bribed the French Judge.

Thursday, February 14, 2002

Man, comedians are pain-in-the-butt. I write comedy, but I also perform at our local San Diego Comedy Store for grins. Since I am doing this primarily for fun and to tune up my comedy writing timing, I don't probably take it as seriously as I should. But a lot of these serious stand up folks are a mess. Have you ever seen a lost puppy in the rain? Comedians are about ten times needier.

You ever try to talk to a stand up comedian? It isn't a conversation, it is a testing ground for bits.

Me: So how you doing, Charlie?

Charlie: I am doing fine but I had trouble parking. What is with all of the handicap parking spots? Do they really have to have ten handicap parking spots outside of the gym?

They should hang a sign in the lobby and above the bar: No Bits Zone.
Yes, folks, sad to say, but I am rapidly approaching the age where my back goes out more than I do. But then again, my back goes out more than a crack whore. When did I get this weak back? About a week back. Badingdang. I love that old joke.
OK, I feel a little bit bad about beating up the French due to that snotty and incompetent figure skating judge. Why is it so fun to beat up on the Gaelic friends? Their economy is smaller than California's, they haven't contributed to anything culturally since escargot, and they are staying way ahead of the rudeness curve while continuing their poor hygiene habits. So why beat a cheval mort? (Dead horse)

Simple. Torn Whores and Nugget Ranchers, there is no greater sin than snootiness, and a lot of the French are snooty beyond justification. We all know some amazingly gifted and successful people who aren’t snotty, so there is no excuse. I can hardly wait until I am amazingly successful so I can not be snotty. Right now I am not snotty because I don’t have one single reason to be snotty, but I am working on it. I can hardly wait until I hit it big and I have to struggle to not be snotty.

Any of you folks ever been to Marin County, north of San Francisco? A beautiful place, an expensive place and an absolute breeding ground of snotty people. Maybe it’s because they live near wineries so they think they are French, maybe it’s because two bedroom ranch houses cost millions of dollars, but Marin county is unforgivably snotty.

We live in a nice area north of San Diego. On a visit to San Rafael , a town in Marin, we were at a party and somebody asked me where I lived. When I told them, they looked at me with pity and then replied; “Uh, well, that’s OK.” Like it wasn’t my fault I lived in a such a hole. These people are even snotty to themselves. This woman from San Rafael sniffed; “I can’t understand why anyone would live in Mill Valley” –an artsy town closer to the coast than San Rafael- “it is so unbearably foggy and damp.” At the same party I heard this guy from Mill Valley say “I don’t know how they live here in San Rafael, it is so unbearably hot.”

So that is our message for the day, folks, don’t be snotty. If you think the car you drive or the clothes you wear, or the house or neighborhood in which you live makes you better than other people, you are probably living a half an hour away from San Francisco.

Happy Valentines Day Torn Whores and Nugget Ranchers.

Boy this Olympic figure skating controversy won’t go away. Today the French judge ruled that the St. Louis Rams actually on the Super Bowl. The governing body of skating, the ISU, said it could not change the result of the pairs competition at the Winter Olympics. Incidentally, ISU stands for Idiotic Spineless Underachievers.

This Olympic figure skating scandal once again proves to err is human, but to really screw things up you need the French. Only the French can combine such incredible arrogance with such total and complete incompetence.

Wednesday, February 13, 2002

Here is a little tune-up for you kids practicing for the SAT tests:

A Smart guy is to me as;

A) Mount Everest is to a speed bump.

B) Bill Gates is to Kenneth Lay

C) The New York Yankees are to a Curling Team

D) Why is life such an endless series of agonizing, and embarrassing events?

That's right, the answer is: "What are you looking at?" Oh, and "Bite me, Dorothy" is also acceptable.

Do you now what I think? (Of course you don't, why would you?) But here it is anyway:

I think they should change the Olympic motto from Citius, Altius, Fortius to Sickus of Bobus Costas.
Since you Torn Whores and Nugget Ranchers asked:

About my dog Kasey. (Actually, she prefers the term Labrador American to dog)

My yellow lab Kasey is an awesome dog. I know, everyone thinks their dog is awesome, but Kasey really is. Trust me, I am not one of these pet owners who attributes human qualities to animals when they don't exist, specifically like cat owners. "See how Fluffy ignores me when I call her? That is because she is sooooo smart." Listen, cat owners, if doing nothing was a sign of intelligence, I would be Albert Frickin' Einstein. Or is it Einstien? You get the point.

But my dog is smart. Her defined eyebrows and wrinkled brow give her a permanent look of worried concern. Picture somene who has just been told the kitchen ran out of their order, and that is my dog's expression.

Drinking tip:

They say that wine is good for you. In that case, I should live to be about 167. If you start to think you may be drinking too much, do what I did. Redefine the definition of an alcoholic. In my book an alcoholic is anyone and everyone who drinks more than I do. See how well that works?

Here is some more Olympic trivia: the name of the sport Curling derives from the word curdling because it’s as exciting as watching milk turn. If you ask me - and nobody did - it is a cruel hoax that the sport of curling is being debuted at the Olympics in the state of Utah. How can someone play that sport without drinking heavily, let alone watch it sober.

The bad news for the French Olympic ice skating judge is that she is under investigation after the terrible call that robbed the Canadian pairs of a gold medal. The good news for the French judge? She is under consideration for the head coaching job of the Tampa Bay Buccaneers.

This just in:

There is yet another Olympic scandal: Turns out one of the Curling guys tried to sneak a Dustbuster inside of his broom.

You’ll have to excuse me, Torn Whores and Nugget Ranchers, I am a little tired today. Watching that Olympic curling last night wore me out. Man, could you believe how that one guy could sweep? If I had a vacuum, maybe I could keep up, but this guy just had a broom! I got it on tape.

It was a tough choice last night. Curling was on television at the same time as this really wild Life Insurance Infomercial. I had to flip a coin. And I thought the Chicago Bears had a boring offense . . .

Speaking of flesh eating lunatics, the state of Georgia has granted Mike Tyson a boxing license. There are certain stipulations to which Tyson will have to adhere. For example, in Georgia it is legal to bite someone, but only if they are a relative.

Some guys have all the luck: Apparently, while in jail, American Taliaban Johnny Walker Lindh has been the object of a lot of correspondence from women. Well, sure, that makes sense. Women dig these guys, you can’t spell Taliban without the words Nab Tail.

Did you see the poodle that won “Best in Show” at the Westminster dog show? That thing looks like an experiment to clone a dog with cotton candy gone horribly wrong. The name of the poodle that won Best in Show at the Westminster dog show is named Surrey Spice Girl. The difference, of course, between the poodle and the Spice Girls is talent. The dog has some. But seriously, folks,do you know the difference between the poodle and the Spice Girls? The poodle has a career. Badabing. Tip your cocktail waitresses, I'll be here all week . . .

Speaking of drunken idiots, most everyone – except the idiot judges – agreed the Canadian pairs figure skating team was robbed of a gold medal. Now they are investigating the French and Russian judges. Rumor has it they were in cahoots to try and help each other to score booze in Utah. Have you ever tried to buy booze in Utah? It's a little easier to get than plutonium. Folks, I have been to Utah. These are not generally attractive folks. The fact that they are able to reproduce without alcohol is one of the mysteries of our time.

But I have to hand it to the folks of Utah, they are doing a great job with the Olympics. They have been really fun. I've said it before, and I'll say it again; having the Olympics in Utah is almost like having it right here in the good ol' United States.

Tuesday, February 12, 2002

They are going to make a movie about the American sweep in the Olympic half-pipe snowboard competition; it’s called; “Dude, Where’s My Medal?”

Techno Update: Sprint is now offering a service called talking E-mail. You send an E-mail, and it translates that into a voice message. You think that is amazing? Now they have this thing where a person can actually see and hear you at the same time exactly as it happens. It’s called Getting-your-lazy-ass-away-from-the-computer-and-meeting-people.

OK, so maybe I had too much coffee this morning . . .

Hello Torn Whores and Nugget Ranchers.

As I understand it, the Women’s luge is basically a contest to see which woman can lie still without hardly moving. I don’t know who the favorites are, but given the criteria, I have to go with my old girlfriend. I don't want to mention her name, but her initials are Tammy James.
Folks, how about that guy who won the silver medal in the halfpipe, Danny Kass? Did you hear his interview? This guy makes Sean Penn's character in "Fast Times as Ridgemont High" Jeff Spicoli seem like Donald Rumsfeld. The Colonel's extra crispy isn't as fried as this guy. This guy may have had the silver medal in the half-pipe, but I am pretty sure he has the world record in the full-on loaded pipe.

Hasn't the Salt Lake City OIympics been fun? It's almost like having the Olympics in the United States.
A new study suggests that people who are always in a bad mood have an over active brain. There are two words that prove this theory is wrong: Mike Tyson.

Hello all torn whores and nugget ranchers. My name is Alex Kaseberg and each day I will provide my comedy writing observations, quips, rants, jokes, and general wise-ass comments. This will be fun, so stay tuned.