Saturday, December 24, 2011

Harrington's Tiger Bomb War Dance

For reasons I’m not really sure, I am reminded of a story from my last and glorious year at University of California at Santa Barbara. It is not a Christmas story per se, but I will try and make it festive.

It was a late afternoon gorgeous sunset over the ocean at my girlfriend’s house she shared with three pretty roommates. We were outside on the porch of their cozy little house on Del Playa, which means of the beach in Spanish. As was our custom, we were enjoying margaritas and guacamole and chips.

As the maggies flowed, so did the conversation. One roommate, who I will call Becky, had recently started dating a guy whom the rest of us did not particularly like, named Harrington. Yes, that was his first name. Apparently it was a family name. Harrington let anyone who met him know that he was from a wealthy family back East and regarded himself as quite a lacrosse player.

Things had proceeded in the bedroom rather too quickly for Becky’s modest tastes, but now they had hit a crossroads. Becky told us that Harrington was becoming increasingly insistent on performing a certain act that she absolutely refused to do.

Yes, that would be in the butt, Bob. Err, I mean Harrington. As far as Becky was concerned, this was a deal-breaker, and she let Harrington know this, but his persistence grew nonetheless.

A little light bulb went off in my head. This was a story I had heard before. So I informed Becky of what a girl on the track team did who was faced with the same problem.

A week later, Harrington’s pleading and begging reached the breaking point, so, much to Harrington's surprise, Becky suddenly acquiesced. She then announced she would retire to the bathroom to prepare. When she emerged, hands behind her back, Harrington looked as eager and excited as a child at Christmas. (See, I told you I would make it festive)

From hidden behind her back, Becky then dramatically produced a very large and medicinal-looking jar.

“What is that?” asked Harrington.

She informed him it was a special lubricant made, believe it or not, just for this occasion. A type of specially crafted petroleum jelly that would make such an act more pleasurable for both participants. She instructed him, per my instructions, that he had to apply the lubricant quickly and liberally, extending it to all areas groin-related. ("Areas Groin-Related" is my new off-Broadway rom-com play)

What Harrington did not know was the alleged sex-lube Becky had thoughtfully provided was actually a type of athletic muscle-loosening analgesic balm called Tiger Bomb I had pilfered from the training room. This stuff made Vicks vapo rub or Ben Gay seem like mother's milk.

As strong as Tiger Bomb was, it was also slow-acting. Kind of like the hottest chili pepper you’ve ever eaten. At first you don’t think it is too strong, then slowly you start to sweat until you think you may have to visit the emergency room.

No kidding, this Tiger Bomb stuff was so strong that if you applied it to the slightest abrasion or sunburn, tears would stream down your eyes until you washed it off. It had a nuclear cinnamon smell that our track meets absolutely reeked of. My brain isn't capable of calculating how much it would hurt if applied, even in the slightest, to Mister Happy and the boys.

As Harrington greedily, frantically and generously slathered on the thick and sticky Tiger Bomb on and anywhere near his especially aroused and sensitive parts, Becky sat back on the bed, smiled and waited for her very own naked Apache war dance she was informed would surely erupt.

She was not disappointed. She said he looked like Joe Cocker getting taze'd.

The moral of the story?

Perhaps poor Harrington permanently learned a proper point in pressing the proposition of popping the pooper prematurely.

(Slow, awe-struck clapping slowly explodes into a tidal wave of thunderous ovation)

Friday, December 23, 2011

Osama bin Laden, Moammar Gadhafi, Kim Jong Il. Not a good time to be an evil, egomaniac tyrant. So watch your ass, Donald Trump.

This time of year I feel especially blessed to have such a smart, sweet, kind, funny, healthy and thoughtful daughter in Ann Caroline. If I may share some parental advise: when having a child it is vital your mailman has good genes.

Since you asked:

Saw Woody Allen's "Midnight in Paris."

What can I say. It is very Woody Allen-y. Visually it is a beautiful love letter to Paris. But if you have seen "Manhattan" or "Hannah and her Sisters" and have never been to New York, be prepared for more grit and grime than he depicts.

Suspect Paris is the same way.

The lumpy self-absorption of Woody's lead character is getting old.

The lead characters fall into two categories. If they are smarter or more accomplished than the main character, the Woody-wanna-be, then they are impossibly smug and snotty.

If they aren't as evolved as the Woody-lead, then they are a knuckle-dragging cultural stereotypes. Lead women are either shrill and shallow or impossibly young and hopelessly love with the Woody-type-lead. "Annie Hall" was both in reverse order.

There are great throw-away lines like when Hemingway asks Gil if he hunts and Gil responds; "Only for bargains." Yes the film is clever and witty but it also feels like it is trying too hard to be so.

All in all the movie is worth watching. Interesting theory of how every generation of artists thinks the best time was the generation before theirs. Woody's endless hammering of living with the fear of death and the basic premise that people think any club/time/city that has them for a member can't be that great, well, it gets a little old.

But in the end it asks the same question of a lot of the non-early Woody Allen movies: When will he go back to just being funny?

Thursday, December 22, 2011

We so G up in this up in here, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers

In an e-mail, Rick Perry, mistakenly referred to the deceased North Korean leader, Kim Jong-Il as Kim Jong the Second. When informed he was Il, Perry said; “Ill? Hell, the freaking guy is dead.”

The FDA has approved a hangover remedy called the Blowfish pill; it makes the perfect holiday gift that says to that special person: “We know you’re a chronic alcoholic.”

A South Carolina man died after he was forced to eat the cocaine that was hidden in his brother’s butt; as a result, being eaten by a rabid chimp is now my second least favorite way to die.

New research reveals the top reasons people defriend someone on Facebook are obscene language, trying to sell products and unresponsiveness. In addition, sleeping with their spouse was not considered a plus.

2008 “American Idol” runner-up, David Archuleto, announced he is taking a break from his singing career to go on a Mormon mission. This comes almost a year after Archuleto’s music career took a break from his music career.

Herman Cain said he would accept if offered a White House Cabinet position; no kidding, when has Cain ever turned down an offer of a position?

A Chicago strip club is giving lap dances for patrons who bring in a toy for their toy drive. Apparently the length and quality of the dance depends on the toy. An X-box is worth 20 intimate minutes in the champagne room. A Kim Kardashian Chia pet? Knee to the nuts.

The movie “Young Adult” is getting good reviews. “Charlize Theron’s performance is gritty and hilarious.” “What the hell is Chaz Bono doing in the movie? Oh, sorry, that’s Patton Oswalt.”

A Chicago strip club is giving lap dances for patrons who bring in a toy for their toy drive. The strip club had to announce they have more than enough Benny the Bull dolls from Chicago Bulls players.

New research reveals the top reasons people defriend someone on Facebook are obscene language, trying to sell products and unresponsiveness. Unless you’re Kobe Bryant, then you defriend all the Laker teammates who rated out your affairs to his wife Vanessa.

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

That's a little juicy for my Sassafras, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers

You can tell Christmas is almost here; Herman Cain is rockin' his mistletow-on-the-belt-buckle trick.

The Kardashian Kristmas Kard is in 3-D. Which is two D's more than the Kardashians themselves.

Tuesday, December 20, 2011


Ho, ho, ho and three other Christmas wishes, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers

North Korean dictator, Kim Jong Il passed away; the reigns of power will go to his youngest son, Kim Jong Un, passing over the two older sons, Kim Jong Tito and Kim Jong Jermaine.

In sad news, Kobe Bryant’s wife, Vanessa, has filed for divorce; this is horrible timing for Kobe. With the season about to start, this will take all the fun out of cheating on her on the road.

Britney Spears is engaged for the third time, this time to her former agent, Jason Trawick. If you want to get a wedding gift, they’re registered at Bed, Bath and Not Beyond 72 Days.

There is a new app on Facebook that enables you to find out which one of your friends has un-friended you. You just have to click “like” on the page you admit you are the saddest and neediest person alive.

Britney Spears is engaged for the third time, this time to her former agent, Jason Trawick. I’m sending them a nice wedding present just as soon as Kim Kardashian sends it back to me.

There are only two kinds of Holiday newsletters. The ones where the family is showing off; “Our trip to Tahiti? One word: amazing.” And the ones where the family is depressing as hell: “Muffy, our dog died, but it’s just as well, we lost our house and our shabby apartment doesn’t take pets.”

As Christmas approaches, did you know that Jesus Christ supposedly had a younger brother named James? How would that Christmas newsletter from Mary have gone?

“As you probably know, our oldest son, Jesus, is celebrating a birthday soon and we could not be prouder. Our youngest son, James, or Jimmy, is also doing well, but in his low-profile way. He is the drummer for the ska band, Bad-Ass-Beats 69, and was involved with the Occupy Nazareth protests.”

Monday, December 19, 2011

Back sassin' and data encraption, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers

Barbara Walters named Steven Jobs along with the Kardashian sisters as this year’s most fascinating people. That’s like naming filet mignon and horse poop as this year’s most interesting tastes.

Mitt Romney said Newt Gingrich would be a zany president; keep in mind, Mitt thinks zany is doing the crossword puzzle in ink.

Scientists have discovered a new species of monkeys in Vietnam they are calling the Elvis monkey because it resembles Elvis; in addition, they have also discovered a new species of manure-dwelling leeches they’re calling the Kardashians.