Notes on the week

I successfully wore untied shoes every day with no inconvenience, no tripping, no getting knocked out of my shoes like Charlie Brown on the pitcher's mound or that dead kid by the railroad tracks in Stand By Me. My feet don't get claustrophobic, and in the mornings I can jump into them both feet at a time. I get to the office up to 30 seconds sooner than before. It's a modern-day miracle of efficiency and expediency.


I slept approximately 15 hours on the couch over six days. That can only mean one thing: I'm getting old. If I can't watch TV and stay awake for a whole show, I need to skip right over marriage and kids and go straight to being a grandfather. I'll start by driving with my turn signal on for 15 miles and gradually ease my way into tipping no more than 15% down to the penny on my meals out (fixed income, yo!). Of course, it's more appropriate to fall asleep sitting up in a recliner, but I'm working with what I've got. I used to sleep on the couch all the time in college, but that was because I was drunk and stoned most days. Now, however, I'm... well... hmmm... I... ummm... maybe I'm not elderly after all.


What up with the furor caused by Obama choosing the Rev. Rick Warren to deliver the invocation at the inauguration next month? Sure, Warren hates the gays and probably never pressured his girlfriends to have abortions. But is that all it takes to get the liberals up in arms? It's just a traditional formality, and the good reverend represents an increasingly irrelevant mythology. But nobody's bitching about our next president being sworn in by a man who prays to a silly symbolic space creature.


Speaking of space creatures, I have nothing to add to the first part of this sentence.


It's Saturday, so I'm going to spend the day getting things done. Like watching movies and taking a nap. Maybe on the couch. The day has limitless potential.

Christmas cheer

I'm outrageously angry with all of you who haven't seen the Colbert x-mas special.

It will be on Comedy Central again, but go fucking buy the DVD. And buy the soundtrack on iTunes to have at work and in your car.

I guess I will bless you with a taste of the brilliance.

This one says all the things I've always wanted to say to you about x-mas:

The Colbert ReportMon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c

A Colbert Christmas: John Legend

Colbert at Christmas
Colbert Christmas DVD

Green Screen
Bill O'Reilly Interview

Earth, space, rockets and whatnot

Watch this shit on full screen. This is what my friend Spaceman DC described as "video from the perspective of a solid rocket booster: separation, re-entry, and then it hits the ocean."

It's fairly trippy and scary if you think you'd be afraid of plunging through Earth's atmosphere like I am.

The real action starts around the 1:50 mark. Then things get crazy again at 4:35.

Punch drunk

I'm in the process of deciding if I should think about getting a heavy bag for the garage. I'm not into boxing or anything. But sometimes I just want to hit something for 15 minutes or so. And I love working out!!!

But the real reason is that I want to learn to work through my stress and aggression by punching something. Why should married guys get to have all the fun?

Hey, it's like black people using racial slurs on black people. I saw spousal abuse firsthand when I was a child, so I can make that joke.

Also, I punch like a dead boxing kangaroo. So there's no legitimate threat.

Finally, a funny shoe. Because the comic strip Shoe sucks male sex organ

So how 'bout that President Bush? Eh?... Eh?

Did ya hear this? Did ya read about this? Seems that an Iraqi journalist threw his shoes at the lame-duck leader of the free world. Talk about [insert jokey joke joke here]!!!

But seriously, it gives a whole new meaning to [hilarious shoe-related pun, ha ha ha]. This guy knows what I'm talking about. It's like if [famous douchebag] had a baby with [B-list has-been hack]. I wonder what that baby would sound like. I bet it would sound a little something like this: WAAAAAAA WAAAAAA WAAAAAAA!!!! See... because it's a baby.

Thank you. You've been a great audience.


I cribbed that bit from that one dude who makes with the laugh-laugh. But for reals, I'm astounded by Bush's reflexes. The cushy life ain't slowed him down none, no how. All these years of dumbass decisions and treasonous behavior, and then it turns out we got a ninja for a president. He shoulda fought the war in Iraq himself. He coulda made that Matrix bullet-dodging shit cool again.

But on a personal note, the unsung story of this, uh, story is the accuracy of the shoe throws by the Iraqi. It's personal because I don't think I could come that close to a target like he did, even at close range. A baseball is hard enough for me to throw without looking silly, but a shoe? And two shoes in rapid succession? That can be wildly unpredictable. What if a shoelace catches on my finger at the last second? The shoe could whip around and kick me in the crotch. Or hit an innocent bystander. Or maybe I'd leave a motherfucking footprint right on the forehead of the Great Satan himself. Ohhh snap!

But I wouldn't bet on that.

Old yeller

Yesterday morning on my way to work, traffic came to a standstill. Three lanes of inertia. Except for the HOV lane. I was in the middle lane. I noticed a car two vehicles up in the left lane make a move for the HOV lane.

Glass and plastic exploded across the interstate. After the impact, one car sat facing traffic. One was crushed into the median. A third car sat askew about 50 feet down the road. Suddenly the traffic ahead was gone. I shook my head as if I had been in the wreck. People jumped out of their cars and ran to help the drivers who were surely injured. I froze for a second, then reached for my cell and dialed 911. Someone had beaten me to it said the operator, so I led the cars behind me around the crash and drove to work.

I question my reaction. Why did I not get out and check on the wounded? Why was I not first to call 911? Maybe I don't measure up as a human. I already know I'm not a nice or good person overall, but I'd like to think I would react sufficiently, if not heroically, in a crisis.

I planned to spend this weekend soul searching, but it's my weekend with the kids and we're going to the movies. They want to see the Christmas film Frost Nixon. Sounds like a light-hearted holiday romp where a snowman becomes president or something. But I haven't read anything about it.

Class acts

Classy Bob Stoops did it again by classily tacking on 21 points in the fourth quarter after already putting away Missouri by the half. Running up the score game after game is what class is all about.

And the Sooner fans, as usual, really classed it up with their anti-Mack Brown and down-horns signs.

Yes, OU truly is a classy institution. But that's what we've all come to expect from our republic's classiest state.

WE DID IT!!!!

We finally got O.J.!!!

I don't know about where you live, but here in the white neighborhoods of Texas, we rioted and burned overturned cars (which we ourselves had overturned).

And all we had to do was lull him into a false sense of security by electing a black president.

You don't think Obama won Virginia and North Carolina based on his merits as a candidate or this alleged economic downturn, do you? Those states wouldn't vote for a black president even if he promised them reparations for the 40 acres and a mule their forefathers never quite had to give up. Or promised to legalize Mexican slaves.

We had almost lost hope. We tried getting O.J. on back taxes. We came close to tricking him in to assaulting someone with a golf club. At our most desperate, we even tried framing him for stealing DirecTV. But that just shows lack of vision. I mean, we really had our spirits broken after the acquittal for double homicide. We were sure we had picked the best of the best in the LAPD to plant the evidence. "No white woman will ever marry another black man!" we sang prematurely.

Alas, we didn't know what was in store for us. The Goldmans' civil suit served to buy us some time, but we just came up blank. The real human tragedy of the whole affair is poor Peter Lupus. The original Norberg from the Police Squad! series suffered humiliation after humiliation as Zucker, Abrahams and Zucker continued to crank out Naked Gun sequels with a black ex-athlete in the role Lupus originated on the small screen.

But now if they, or maybe the Wayans brothers, decide to make a fourth Naked Gun, the 70-something Lupus will be restored to his former glory.

And as for the black president, four years will fly by. Then the Huckabee/Palin ticket will swoop in to save white America.

Or failing that, we'll frame Obama for the murders of Hillary and her late lover Vince Foster.

How I know I'm going to win the lottery

Large dollar amounts in the Texas lottery are won only by ugly people.

You can go on the website to look at pics of some recent winners, and you will either end your gambling ways if you're beautiful or double down if you're not.

I'm investing my entire mid-month paycheck in the Mega Millions drawing. Then I can buy most people's perception of me.

And have everyone else killed.

Big Crock of Shit

Texas got fucked. Not the good kind, like you by your favorite celebrity. But the disappointing and enraging kind, like you by me. Or in this case, UT by the BCS.

They ruined a great season and an Obama election and let a trashy school in a trashy state sneak in the back door.

Oh well. That douchebag coach and his team still have to live in Norman.