Hairy Palms Too?

Check this out:

[<"FDA probes blindness among Viagra users"])

If You Don't Love America, Get Out.

Gene Simmons? Even Simon can't beleive it. 

Wow, American Idol, it is an absolute phenomenon. The governor of the Great State of Alabama declared today Bo Bice Day. The entire population of Oklahoma is ready to riot if Carrie Underwood brings home the hardware. Live TV with drunk correspondents and old men in overalls. The good, the bad, the ugly: David Hasselhoff, Hall & Oats, Gene Simons, Kenny Logins, Mark McGrath, and Mr. 5.9%.

The 10 worst performers provide any number of future William Hungs: the national anthem girl, Mr. Goth, and the two ‘friends.’

Simon and Paula are fighting again. Thank goodness that soulless Ryan Seacrest is here to save the day. Randy Jackson is secretly trying to clone himself, and then come out of the closet – move to Massachusetts – and have a nice ceremony, and Simon is showing him how.

Oh look: William Hung… I knew he’d make a cameo.

Now they are troting out rejected contestants and a bunch of washed-up has-beens:

Carrie Underwood and some country guy.

Kenny G and two reject contestants just performed a “I Believe I Can Fly” by R. Kelly. Is Yanni up next?

Nope,
Kenny Wayne Shepard and three rejects “Walk This Way” by Run DMC and Aerosmith. Oh the humanity.

Geroge Benson, Ozzie Smith’s kid “Nico,” and the ‘husky’ guy giving us an inspiring rendition of “Broadway.” Not bad, actually a well placed song.

Billy Preston, Babyface in a Door’s T-shirt – hmmm? How did that conversation go between Babyface and his manager? 'Look, American Idol, it’s your only chance.'

Oh ladies and gentlemen: Mr. Bo Bice and Lynard Skynard… I’ll bet you can’t guess what song they played.

FOX 9’s Trish Vanpillson is investigating boxing by getting punched in the head a few times. I’m sure that is some riveting journalism.

Some Baldwin looking guy just brought in the envelope. Over 500,000 votes this year – good lord.

And now the winner: Carrie Underwood

‘I would just like to thank America… and World Peace.’

Her first single “Inside Your Heaven” to be released June 14, I don’t know about any of you but I’m going to be first in line.

I can’t believe how good it all actually was, but I need to take a shower.

Only in America.

Love the Buracracy, the Buracracy Loves You

"Is anyone listening to me?" 

Today I got to leave the office and truck on down to the Capital City’s City Hall for a legislative hearing. The legislative hearing is the precursor to a formal hearing before the full city council. It a pretty relaxed affair, I get to wear jeans.

The hearing officer sits at the center of a U-shaped table, her assistant next to her, then me, my boss – head of vacant buildings, and Harold the supervisor for code enforcement. All hearings I will attend, deal with housing issues of some sort. These break-down into two main categories 1) We're trying to tear some house down; or 2) “Why is the city charging me for cleaning up my property?”

Today’s proceedings were the latter. People contesting a property tax assessment bill for city parks department clean up. Usually either yard work/brush removal, removing an inoperative vehicle / appliance, or boarding-up a vacant property. Let’s just say, not your favorite kind of neighbors.

At one point today I actually heard this sentence “They took my cow planter, you could tell just by looking at it that it was a cow.” (Said with a quivering voice) Or how about, “I think the city should not make me pay this.” (A guy wearing a tie-dyed Grateful Dead T-shirt, holding his assessment high with his left hand and being as animated as one can be while remaining seated.) The hearing officer replies to Mr. Tie-dye, “So you think the city tax-payers should foot the bill for this?” “Ya…, I’m a tax-payer too,” he smoothly retorts.

How can you argue with logic like that?

Monday, Monday, Monday

There are times when I love my life. I cherish those moments when it seems like I have some sort of secret advantage over the rest of the general public. Mondays have always been one of those days.

Often, on my drive to work or school, I hear something like “It’s going to be a beautiful day, too bad it wasn’t like this on the weekend.” Well, Mondays are a quasi-weekend for me. I get to ditch-out of work early and traverse the twin cities (from NE St. Paul to Wayzata) to play golf at Spring Hill. I know how fortunate I am, and thank the powers that be for the tremendous privilege that I most certainly do not deserve.

It is so very relaxing to drive along knowing that the rest of the productive society is working hard. It is much easier to be in a good mood when your destination is a spectacular golf course instead of an office. It is good for the soul.

If anyone can work out a Monday afternoon escape, I highly recommend it. Whether it be: golf, couch, movie, canoe trip down the Mississippi with Gates, or anything else your heart desires. It surely makes Mondays a bit more palatable, and helps the rest of the week pass by just a little smoother.

FORE!

Great Story... Too Bad It's Fake

[<"Lion Mutilates 42 Midgets in Cambodian Ring-Fight"])

Even the Onion would be proud.

[<"Read the story on this link"])

What This Blog Needs... Is More Langino.

You want it... you got it. 

The lean-mean pugilist, the master of the sweet-science, LANGINO.

+ Photo credit to Mr. PW

Whatever Doesn't Kill You...

Victory is Ours 

Friends, Mondales, colleagues. The year is over. All the blood, sweat, and tears have lead us to the 2/3rds point. For three glorious months will we not have to wallow in the stale library environment or be held captive in our homes by law books. No more. NO MORE I say.

We shall bask in the sun, drink from cups overflowing with beer, and become literate in current pop culture again. Our skin will attain a healthy glow; the opposite sex will once more find us attractive. Significant others will recognize their long lost mates.

Summer is a good time, and this summer will be a great time. We shall suck the marrow out of this, the last summer before the inevitable 8 to 7 jobs assault us. Join me friends, raise a glass and cheer, “Summer time is here.”*


* Or if you prefer “Donna Martin Graduates!”

And Now, Your Moment of Zen (#2)

If You Listen Closely, You Can Hear the Benny Hill Theme Music Playing in the Background. 

They Tell Me I'll Be Out In No Time

A Dramatic Re-creation of My Week 

Sorry about my lack of wonderfully insiteful, endlessly engauging, infinately entertaining posts lately. The yoke of finals is heavy, but soon it will be lifted. No more lonely hours in the nether-regions of the library. No more forced reading of mind-numbing statutes/cases/hypos. No more stress-induced HO-HO eating contests. (For the record, I always win.)

I know in the grand scheme of things a couple of tests are no big deal. But there is just something about law school that makes an otherwise sane person an absolute raving lunatic at times. So please bear with me as a slug through the last bits of my second year, sweet release is on its way.

My Bumper Votes Democratic

Piss on You... 

(Editors note: Ladies and Gentlemen, this is the first post for Am-bÜ-lar. (aka Amber) If this first post is any indication of her abilities, I hope she graces this space with a post now and then. Thanks cutie.

If anyone else has any burning rants, jokes, commentaries, hopes, dreams, etc., let me know. (Read: I’m lazy, and I know I’m not always that interesting…so help.)

Any way, with no further a-do…


Yesterday I spotted a “Perot 92” bumper sticker on the freeway, and it startled me out of my commuter daze and got me to thinking about how inane bumper stickers really are. Now, I’ve been amused by the occasional “Visualize Whirled Peas” (because I have such a super sophisticated sense of humor), or found myself nodding in agreement to a “If You’re Not Outraged, You’re Not Paying Attention” (because I’m a bleeding heart liberal, want to make something of it?). However, overall, I believe sticking statements on your ride is a bad idea in general.

For one thing, it totally dates you. No one may necessarily notice that your vehicle is approaching its 15th birthday, but if you’ve got a “Bush-Quayle” sticker on your fender, someone’s going to notice. You could attempt to remove the sticker but it’s really a matter of whether you’d rather have a bumper sticker or the unsightly, tell-tale residue of a bumper sticker, which is kind of white trash.

Another reason to avoid bumper stickers is that they don’t make people want to be your friend. I have no issues with people expressing their opinions openly, but when you advertise them with trite slogans, you generally just piss people off. I can be friends with someone who has different ideas and values than I do, but if all I know about a person is that their bumper sticker reads “Are You Following Jesus This Closely?” I’m going to draw unflattering conclusions about him.

The biggest reason I choose not to advertise my beliefs on my vehicle is that I do not want to be the victim of road rage. I don’t think that road rage is acceptable behavior, but I’ve been tempted more than once to rear-end someone who was sporting a big “W 04” on their pickup. I think the citizens of this nation are so ideologically divided and such impatient drivers, that the combination could be deadly.

Of course, if anyone can tell me where to find a “No Fear” decal or anything that features Calvin pissing, would you let me know?

Dogs for Me

Two for One 

Last night, in order to avoid studying, I headed on down to the Dome to watch some baseball. Good seats, a beer, everything was progressing toward a great evening. That’s when it happened, either a gift from the gods or punishment from the devil. (It’s still too early to tell.)

It was the fourth inning, and I was growing hungry. Luckily, the friendly Hormel Dome Dog vendor was making his way up the aisle. I waved him down and got myself a delicious Dome Dog. I had no more than enjoyed the first two bites, when a camera crew and another Hormel Dome Dog vendor descended upon our row. Suddenly Dome Dogs are being passed down, one after another, and I dutifully passed them in between bites of my first dog. Our row had been selected as the Hormel Hot Dog row of the game. Free Dome Dogs for everyone in our row.

Hormel, your crafty promotion induced me to eat two of your packed “meat” casings. But whatever does or does not happen today, I had a two (2) Dome Dog night. And that’s alright, alright, alright.

The Classic G&T

Ain't Nothing But a G(&T) Thang Baby... 

It is that time of year again boys and girls. When everyone seems to skip-out of their worldly responsibilities just a little bit early and stroll on down to their favorite outdoor patio. Having the first drink of the year outside, is one of the great joys of Minnesota living. And for yours-truly, no drink fits into my little slice of heaven like the Gin and Tonic.

Crisp, refreshing, and hard to mess-up; it is an all-around performer. I like mine stiff, but not burned, with a squeeze of lime. I’m no brand snob, rail will do.

I raise my G&T to you, dear reader, here’s to another summer in the sun.


(What’s your idea of alcoholic heaven?)