Monthly Archives: February 2012

I’m So Goddamn Fat.

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I’ve been fat for a really long time. As an adult I’ve bounced around between 220-250 pounds. My weight fluctuation usually follows a pattern of –


1. Do something strenuous that leaves me gasping for air (shovel the diveway, help a friend move, play a game of kickball, run a half block).

2. Decide to weigh myself after anybody who saw me do the strenuous activity asks if I’m okay and comments how my entire head turned purple during said strenuous activity.

3. Realize that I’m really fat and start working out / dieting. Drop 25 – 30 pounds.

4. Slowly gain weight back, go back to step one.


This cycle usually repeats itself every year or so but the cycle was broken when my bathroom scale died and I didn’t bother getting a new one. We all know ignoring a problem makes the problem go away and as long as I can still tie my own shoes I figured I’m fine. Then I got arrested.


One of the many things they didn’t tell me during the booking process is that at one point I stood on a scale. There was no scale to be seen so I guess it was some cleverly hidden floor thing that weighed me while I got my mugshot. Why don’t they tell you? Were too many self conscious fat people holding up the line by asking to take their pants and shirt off to make sure that the scale gets an accurate reading? Whatever the reason, I found out when my weight was listed on the bracelet they gave me.


268 pounds.



Holy shit that’s the fattest I’ve ever been. That’s weird, though. I don’t think I look that different. Check it out –

Maybe it's all beard weight.





That doesn’t look much different than when I was 30 pounds lighter. The jail scale’s gotta be off or something. That’s it. Probably wasn’t calibrated right.



Wait. What happens if I tilt the angle a bit and move my chin down a little?

Holy shit! Kevin Spacey's gonna make me eat until I die!




AAAAHHH!


Alright. I think it might be time to go back on a diet and start exercising. Dieting’s never easy for me. I eat like a pig. Here’s some of the biggest reasons for why I look like the mom from What’s Eating Gilbert Grape.


Peanut Butter

I actually buy Roundy's Peanut Butter because I'm poor but they don't have any images on google image search so here you go.





I fucking love eating peanut butter so much. The amount of peanut butter I put on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich is pretty disgusting. I’ve used up to a fifth of a jar on a sandwich and I usually make two sandwiches or more. One time I made a hotdog and wondered what it would taste like if I spread peanut butter on the bun. I didn’t follow through with it but the fact that I even thought about it is a little disturbing. Sometimes I take flour tortillas (the giant Chipotle burrito sized ones) and just make a peanut butter and jelly burrito.


Snack Cakes

"Do you eat the icing first or the cake first?" I shove the whole thing in my mouth when nobody's looking and cry.





The picture is of a Hostess cupcake but I’ll eat any brand. Dolly Madison, Mrs. Freshly’s, Entenmann’s, whatever. I’ll take whatever the gas station is selling. I’ll get a package of these anytime I stop at a gas station for any reason. If I’m at a grocery store I’ll get the 12 pack and pretend like they’re for the whole family but Jena and Jared are usually lucky if they get two snack cakes a piece before I have devoured them all. I don’t even bother trying to blame somebody else for eating them all. Whatever. I’m fat. Consider yourself lucky you got two.



Beer
This has become less of an issue recently as I’m finding that I can’t really handle my beer as well the next day (beer shits. I might have a mild gluten allergy or something) but a six pack of beer will cost you 1000-1300 calories, depending on how tasty the beer is (tastier = more calories).


Those are the three main things I need to cut out (I’m aware that I have to eat healthier in general, but these are the main three accomplices to my mantits). My ultimate goal is to not have a Kevin Smith experience when I board a plane in April. Fingers crossed!

Another Response to Craigslist Job Postings!

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Every week I search the craigslist job listings under “talent” and “tv/video/film” and while most of them are either porn companies and stip clubs looking for “talent” or student filmmakers holding open auditions for their totally artistic and not at all pretentious project, there’s always some worth responding to. Here’s the latest diamond in the rough –


TLC CASTING EXTREME CHEAPSKATES
Congratulations, Minneapolis!

This morning, you were named one of most frugal city in America. That’s excellent news for your wallet — and excellent news for everyone’s favorite cable network: TLC. Having just completed two awesome seasons of Extreme Couponing, we’re looking for another breed of thrifty genius: the Extreme Cheapskate.

Just prior to new years, we aired a special that featured a man who washed and reused his paper towels, and another who cooked and ate goat’s head all in the interest of saving a few dollars. Now, we’re excited to say that we’ll be making the topic an eight-episode series, and we’re looking for folks who have unique and smart ways to cut corners and pinch pennies.

If you’re interested in being considered, and have some amazing cost-cutting measures that other people will find amazing, don’t hesitate to get in touch with us. To see clips of the special, check out TLC’s website — there are a few videos showing the good-natured and fun look we took into people’s brilliant frugal moments.

For more information about the casting requirements, check out www.michaelpetrella.com/current — all of the relevant details are listed there, but you’re welcome to e-mail from this posting directly.

Compensation: TBD
Principals only. Recruiters, please don’t contact this job poster.
Please, no phone calls about this job!
Please do not contact job poster about other services, products or commercial interests.



Here’s my response.



Hi, TLC! I’d say I love your network but I’m actually too cheap to get cable. It’s expensive!

I’ve actually been cheap all my life. I think I picked up the habit from my mother when I was little. She was so cheap, she would clip coupons for the dollar store. I could already tell that I was thrifty at a young age because I never even paid attention.

Now, in adulthood, I’ll do everything to save a buck. I rarely eat out. In fact, when I do go out, I’m so cheap I go to KFC and lick other people’s fingers. My eating habits at home have been affected, too. I actually found that you can save on milk by eating cereal with a fork.

I’ve taken measures around the house to pinch pennies as well. I disconnected the doorbell to lower my electric bill so when people push the button I have to stick my head out the window and yell “DING DONG”. I also never buy new appliances. My TV is so old that it has two channels. On and off. I’m actually so cheap that when somebody came over to my house and stepped on a cigarette butt I asked who turned out the heat.

I should go now. The people at the coffee shop start to ask questions if you don’t buy anything and I’ve been here for four days now. Hope to hear from you soon!

Man, I can’t wait until I’m a big time reality TV star.

Spring Break! Woo (or not)!

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The story of the protestor is the story of a hero. It’s no small wonder that Time named The Protestor it’s 2011 person of the year. Activism has, throughout history, been the impetus of change and progress towards equality. Bringing to light oppression and clamoring for the case of human rights, activism has been seen in everything from racial issues, gender issues, ecological issues, working conditions and spring break.


Yes. Spring break.


This is the story of the brave parents and students of Sartell, MN who are fighting to save spring break. The school board in this central MN town has decided to spread spring break out over the course of extended weedends in the late winter / early spring and these stalwart souls saw the grave injustice that is taking a week off from school and not eliminating it but spreading it around. These people realize the necessity for high school students to have spring break. They know how important it is for a young mind to do a beer bong at Senor Frog’s in Cancun. They know how character building it can be to ask Siri if morning after pills are over the counter in Orlando between dry heaves.


Much like Mahatma Ghandi, the good people of Sartell have taken civil disobedience as far as creating a facebook page and t shirts to raise awareness of their struggle.


"I Bet My Hunger Strike Will Get More Likes Than the British Army!"




From a declaration on one of their facebook pages (there’s more than one!) – “This is a group of outraged parents/students we are the majority in Sartell and we will not stand for the actions of our school board, we will oppose the decision of the school board, until they realize they have no right to take away the sacred [spring break],”


Keep fighting the good fight, people of Sartell. You know your cause is a noble one if the Beastie Boys wrote a song about it. Vox populi, vox dei.

If Making Fun of Michele Bachmann is Illegal I May Have More Jail Stories to Post Real Soon.

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I’m not obsessed with Michele Bachmann. Sure, she’s been the subject of ridicule from me a few times and I’ve even taken shots at her as she faded from the political limelight but it’s nothing more than the product of lazy writing. She’s crazy, constantly in the news (especially here in MN) and when you’re trying to get a new blog posted every weekday by noon sometimes you pick the low hanging fruit.


Unfortunately, I may have to start looking at other fruit to pick because insulting Michele Bachmann is now something that can prompt a grand jury investigation.



Seriously. A grand jury in D.C. just subpoenaed twitter to get the identity of a user that “professed desire to engage in sadomasochistic activities” with Michele Bachmann. Somebody should have told him that Marcus is more the whips and chains type.


The man, known only as “Mr. X” in the subpoena, tweeted last year “I want to fuck Michelle Bachman (sic) in the ass with a Vietnam era machete”. Hell, the paragraph following is so hilarious I’m going to post the whole thing, unedited (the entire subpoena can be found on the strib article linked above).


“Unfortunately, an overview of Mr. X’s Twitter page is warranted. Mr. X’s body of tweets is extremely crude and in almost incomprehensibly poor taste. Occasionally political but almost consistently vacuous, his oeuvre represents an infantile attempt at humor that brings to mind the most obscene aspects of Andrew Dice Clay, but without even the infinitesimal modicum of artistic creativity that Mr. Clay managed to possess. The page is entirely without merit, comedic or otherwise. More offensive even than Mr. X’s chosen vocabulary is the pathetic transparency and vapidity of his attempt to elicit the attention on the internet that he surely lacks in real life. Somehow, this attempt has succeeded to the tune of, at the time of the issuance of this Order, 736 followers – a number that will certainly and regrettably grow once this Order is released to the public. A sad state of affairs indeed. Readers are free, though ill-advised, to form their own opinions regarding Mr. X’s output in their own time. It suffices here to include a mere sampling some representative tweets, which are replicated without modification.

Goddamn I just smacked my wife with my Dick… Now she has a cock shaped bruise on her face… Take that take that take that (there were a few more tweets in the subpoena but I’ll just leave it at that)



Holy shit this Mr. X guy just got served in more ways than one. Judge Smackdown tore this guy apart! I seriously hope my body of work is never submitted to a grand jury because I don’t think I could handle the criticism. That was harsh.


This all seems a bit silly, really. I obviously don’t care for Crazyeyes McGaypray but I don’t wish her any physical harm (you hear that, CIA? I’m harmless!). Genuine threats to her should be investigated but I sincerely doubt this is a sincere threat. He’s just a shitty comedian trying to get shock value laughs. Mr. X probably won’t be getting his hands on any machete, Vietnam era or otherwise and Michele Bachmann’s ass can stop worrying and get back to clenching every time somebody tries to force energy efficient light bulbs on her.


Judging by the uncomfortable look on her face in this pic maybe Mr. X actually did follow through.

So I Went to Jail Last Night: Bonus Track

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As I mentioned yesterday in the comments, there was a bunch of stuff I left out of yesterday’s adventure but it was already at triple the word count of my average post. Rather than just write a giant story and spread it out over two days I chose to write the story beginning to end yesterday and just save a couple of the highlights for today so heeeerrreeee we go!


My jail bracelet. I can give this to The Wienery in the West Bank for a free meal and I fully intend to




After I first arrived, while I was receiving my pat down from Officer Tendertouch, another cop with a clipboard and pen asked me a bunch of questions. Am I on drugs? Do I drink every day? Am I on medication? Any mental illness? Any allergies? Normally I’d answer questions like these a little more carefully (if the Red Cross knew about how I lived in the Central African Republic after 1977 I’d never be able to donate blood) but my hands were up against a wall and some guy whose name I didn’t even know was getting to third base with me. I wasn’t exactly thinking on my toes so I just blurted out whatever came to my head. I was given a red paper bracelet which I later learned meant I had to see the nurse.


A couple of hours later (after fingerprinting when I was in the cell with the crazy barking guy) I was called out to see the nurse. Oh shit. Everything was such a blur earlier that I didn’t know what I said “yes” to in that questionnaire. Are they going to force me to take jail drugs? Is this how it works? They dope me up and I’m just in the system now? OH SHIT IS THIS HOW THE GOVERNMENT MAKES CRAZY HOMELESS PEOPLE? I sat down with the nurse and she said that I told them I had allergies, asthma and mental problems.

“Allergies? Oh, I’m allergic to clam. Do you really need to know that?”

“Well, we have that in our system now. We like to be thorough.” Shit! They know my weakness now!

The mental problems were ADD. Apparently while I was getting frisked I thought they should know that. When she asked about the asthma I told her it was Exercised Induced Asthma (yes, it’s a real thing), Asthma’s fat cousin. She asked if I was taking any medication for it and I told her that I did as a child but decided to cut out the middle man and just stopped exercising. The nurse cut my red wristband and sent me back to the cell.


A little while later this kid struts into the processing area like he owns the place. Everybody else in the jail either seemed scared or pissed off that they were there but this kid was at ease, like he belonged there. He was home. If his laid back confidence didn’t tell everybody around him that he had been here more than once he let us know with a physical demonstration by walking up to the sink in the cell and turning it on. I tried to look to see how he did this but nothing tipped me off. I think the sink only spouts water for the Alpha male.

He couldn’t have been older than 21 but his hair suggested he was a teenager in 1989. It was part mullet, part ducktail. Like, all buzzed except for the bottom of the back of his head where 5 loosely braided tails came out. I tried googling “braided mullet” and “mullet ducktail” but the internet can’t find any pictures that properly fit his hair desciption. If I ever find it I’ll post the picture on here. I promise.

A couple of guys start asking the kid questions about where do they pick up their stuff after they’re released and what happens next. When you’re in jail for the first time, you aren’t given a pamphlet with a step by step process. Nobody tells you exactly what happens next or when. You’re just called when you’re called and ushered to where you’re supposed to go. It’s kind of disorienting. The kid starts explaining the steps and pulls an orange out of his pocket. One guy asked where he got it and the kid started laughing and said “I swiped it from that guard lady’s desk!”. He then walked out of the cell and just started meandering around the fingerpinting area, eating the orange. The two guards stared at him in shocked silence for a few seconds until the guard at the desk said “Where the fuck did you get that orange?”

“Oh, I found it over there” he said, pointing to the cell with all the sandwich crusts and apple cores, laughing as he pointed.

“Bullshit. You took that orange from my desk, didn’t you?”

“Nah, man. I got it from that cell. It was just there.” He stifled a chortle and shoved an orange slice past his ear-to-ear grin.
The guard at the desk looked at the other guard “Can you believe this little shit? He just stole my fucking orange! I was gonna have that for lunch!” Neither guard had even mentioned how he left the cell without permission. The other guard grabbed the kid by the arm, said “Let’s go, kid. You’re taking a nap.” and led him down the hallway. The guard at the desk sprang up, ran to catch up with the two and grabbed the kid’s other arm. The kid said “I already took a nap! I was in the drunk tank for like nine hours!” and the guard replied “well you’re taking another nap.” They rounded a corner and were out of sight. I heard a door open followed by three loud thuds. I looked at the other guys in the cell and said “That guy just got beat down, didn’t he?” They didn’t respond.


Oh, I should mention, this is what I was wearing that night –



My face has been blurred to protect my identity.




I had a small role in a sketch for the Reapie Awards and I was told to dress “old timey” so that’s what I went with. After my sister, who can do 1,000 pushups and once bowled a 300 while sleepwalking, posted my bail I met them in the lobby. She told me that when she posted my bail that she told the desk clerk “I’m here for William Young. He’s my brother”. The clerk responded by asking “does your brother look like a 1790s fur trapper”? Apparently I’m the first person to be arrested in suspenders since Orville Redenbacher after all those strippers were found murdered with popcorn shoved in their mouths.


Thanks for reading! I swear this will be the last jail related post but if you want to hear me talk about it out loud with my mouth I’ll be at Google All Over You Facebook: The Vilification Tennis Social Network Show! I’ll be live tweeting the whole show and I’ve been given a few minutes to talk about my experience. Check it out, y’all!

So I Went to Jail Last Night.

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Last night Jena and I went to the 2011-12 Minneapolis Comedy Death Squad Awards and I’m proud to say this little blog won the “best blog / vlog” award. Thanks to everybody who voted!

Finally! An award I can never show my grandmother.

The latest addition to my family of Reapie awards. No big deal.




After we got home I gave our friend Kaia (who was kind enough to babysit) a ride home. After I dropped her off and helped her get her things out of my car I started driving back home but forgot to turn my headlights back on (YES MY CAR IS SO OLD THE HEADLIGHTS DON’T JUST TURN ON AUTOMATICALLY LEAVE ME ALONE I’M POOR). After just a block and a half of headlightless driving a cop pulled me over. I’ve stated before that I’m pathologically scared of cops so getting pulled over is always a shitstorm of anxiety but I tried to calm myself by reminding myself that I was probably just going to get a warning. My license was valid, the tabs were up to date, I was insured, everything was on the up and up. The cop asked for my license and insurance and went back to his car. He came back in less than a minute later. I figured the cop realized he had more important things to do than give some jackass who forgot to turn on his headlights a panic attack. That’s when the cop told me I had a bench warrant for a moving violation from last year and that he would have to take me to jail.


The cop gave me a couple of minutes to make a phone call before he handcuffed me so I tried to call Jena. No answer and I can’t leave a voicemail since we use the google voice service so it’s like we have the same voicemail for different numbers or something. I typed up a text that said “Going to jail. Warrant. Be home late. For the love of god turn your ringer on” and gave the cop my cell phone. One quick ride later we end up at the garage entrance to the jail waiting behind a Minnetonka cop car.



Note to suburban cops; city cops totally shit talk you when you’re not listening.



We head into an underground garage and the cops that arrested me totally cut in front of the suburban cops. The driver said “whelp, looks like we’re going first!” and brought me into a room with about a half dozen deputies standing around. One of them was weaing rubber gloves. He was to be my dance partner for the next two minutes.



I thought I’ve been patted down before. Going to certain music venues and airports I was all too familiar with a process that I was told was “patting down” but all those times I may as well have been given a high five for how noninvasive those pat downs were compared to this cop’s pat down. This man patted. Me. Down. Nothing was unexplored. I can now confirm that there are no weapons or drugs in my taint or buttcrack. I think he’s my boyfriend now. I’m a little pissed he hasn’t called but I don’t want to seem desperate. My shoes were taken and I was told to swap out my pants for some stylish orange sweats in a bathroom.


In the bathroom I noticed there was the “toilet without a seat” and realized that I needed to shit but I figured I’d have to ask permission first so I changed and they took me to a small (probably 4X8?) cell. After watching the half dozen cops stand around for ten minutes I realized I probably wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon and needed to go to the bathroom. I pressed the call button on the intercom in the cell and a voice said “go ahead”.
“Hey, I hate to be a bother but I really need to go to the bathroom. Can that happen, please?”
“Everybody on duty is pretty busy right now so it may take a minute”.
I looked through the glass wall and saw the half dozen cops chatting away. Five minutes later the voice from my little intercom boomed through the big intercom in the room “Oh hey the guy in 14 needs to use the bathroom if anybody has a minute”. One of the cops escorted me to the bathroom where I changed.


30 seconds after sitting on the toilet it started flushing. I didn’t move. I didn’t touch anything. It just flushed. It did it again a minute later. After I was done I tried to find a lever to flush it manually but there was none. I went to the sink to wash my hands but there was no switch or button for the faucet. I waved my hands around, thinking there was a sensor. No luck. I started pushing and twisting at different parts of the sink but no water came. I poked my head out the door and asked “Hey, is the sink like a puzzle or is there-”
“That’s enough. Come on out.”
I still don’t know how those sinks work.



After some processing and mugshotting I was escorted to a larger, open cell with one other guy in it. The place was filthy. The floor and benches were covered in half eaten sandwiches, bread crusts and apple cores. While waiting around I noticed that there were a ton of bread crusts. Like, almost everybody who ate there earlier tore the crusts off their sandwiches. I pointed that out to the other guy in the cell. “Do you think there’s a connection? Like, if you tear the crusts off your sandwich you’re 40% more likely to be a criminal?” He told me I shouldn’t base my PhD thesis off of it.



For about a half an hour it was just me and this other guy in the cell. He was older, maybe in his 50s. Short, thin, grey hair. I wanted to ask him. Of course I wanted to ask him. How do you not ask? It’s so easy. Just four little words. “What did you do?”. I went over the different ways I could ask him. I wanted to seem cool but not that I was trying to look like I’m cool. I blurted out “So how did you end up in here?” and immediately regretted it. The guy actually looked at me for a second, turned away and said “Because there’s nobody out there.” I honestly thought he would start fading away at that moment, like a fog. I’d reach out to touch him but there was soon nothing there. I’d call out to the guard and ask where my cellmate went and the guard would look at me, puzzled, and say “Sir, you’ve been the only one in that cell all night”.



After a full computer scan of my hand and five sets of old fashioned fingerprints, I was allowed to call Jena and put into a different cell with more people. One guy started barking at me and immediately apologized, saying he hasn’t had his meds. The other guy started complaining about how uncomfortable the concrete bench was, saying that it was like they were trying to make us uncomfortable. Crazy bark guy agreed, saying the place was “twisting up my insides like a fork twisting spaghetti”. I said “Yeah, I’m totally giving these guys a bad review on Yelp”. There was total silence until the not crazy guy said “man, what’s yelp?” and I explained what it was and there was more silence. Five minutes later a couple of the guards were talking. One said “I can’t believe how many people complain about this place! ‘Uhh, this sucks, can’t you go faster? It’s cold in here!’ Seriously, if you hate it here so much than don’t get arrested”. I stuck my head out the door and said “Oh this place is definitely getting a terrible review from me on Yelp” and the guards laughed. I turned to my cellmates and said “See? It’s funny if you get the reference!”



Long story short (word count so far, 1372), my wonderful, smart, talented, beautiful sister who is also an amazing public speaker came with her rugged yet dapper husband and they bailed me out for $50. I got home a little before 5AM (arrested a little after midnight) and Jena greeted me at the door and hugged me. I leaned down and whispered in her ear “I was prison raped”. She looked up at me and said “were you even in there long enough to get raped?”
“What? How long do you think rape takes? It’s not like there’s foreplay involved.”



Thanks to the Minneapolis Police Department for keeping threats like me off the streets.

The Drunk Heckler: A One Act Play Written by Me When I Was a Kinda Douchey 22 Year Old

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As many of you know this isn’t my first blog. I’ve often reposted stuff from my old myspace blog when I’m too busy/sick/hungover to come up with something new but that was not my first blog either. Way back in the early aughts I had a livejournal account.


Back in 2004 when blogs were still a thing people read, I loved reading stuff from people like Tucker Max and Maddox. Their influence on my early writing is pretty plain to see (as you’ll soon find out). As a young comedian who just started getting some paid work and was still new at the whole “being able to drink” legally thing, I started posting stories about my grand escapades of getting wasted and yelling at people that I thought were dumber than me because they liked country music or something. Frankly, I was kind of a douchebag.


I’ve held onto a lot of the early stuff I’ve written because even though I’m a bit embarrassed by it, there’s still some funny in there and it provides a bit of a snapshot of my life at the time. Here’s something I wrote over 7 years ago. I flirted with chopping out some of the stuff that makes me seem like a pretentious asshole but I ultimately decided to leave it completely unedited for you, the three people that will read this, so you can see what my writing was like back then.


THE DRUNK HECKLER: A ONE ACT PLAY WRITTEN BY ALCOHOL


(Scene: Grumpy’s open mic, Wednesday. An otherwise fine open mic was interrupted sporadically by two drunks in the front booth. One, some longhair, was obviously drunker than the other, as I saw him fall into the wall in the bathroom. He stumbles out the bar shortly after the show is over and is not seen for the rest of the night. His friend {heretofore known as HECKLER} exclaims “Aw, he does that shit all the time! He’ll end up at home sooner or later!” and proceeds to buy Brody, Lizzy, Mitch and myself shots. Lizzy and Brody break off into their own conversation, leaving Mitch and I stranded. Mitch leaves roughly 15 minutes after this happens, leaving only HECKLER and myself. The following is a series of excerpts from the conversation we had starting at 11:30 P.M. and ending at 1:00 A.M. when I finally convinced Brody to leave.)
(Note: Some of you may question while reading the story “Why didn’t Bill just say something really mean/funny to the jackass and leave?”. Three reasons.

1. I like Grumpy’s. The food, staff and open mic are all great. I don’t want to cause a scene by yelling at this fuck and not be welcome back.

2. I didn’t drive that night. Brody was my ride and I still haven’t forgiven him for trapping me with said fuck.

3. The fuck was buying us round after round of free drinks. Don’t judge me.)


HECKLER: No, man! You were really funny tonight! That shit was hilarious! I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to… you know,

ME: Yell shit out in the middle of our jokes?

HECKLER: Yeah! I’m sorry about that! I’m really, I’m sorry, OK? I won’t do it again! I just didn’t know, you know?

ME: Well, now you know.

HECKLER: Yeah! And I’m sorry! You were funny, though! You were one of the funnier ones who were… You were awesome man! That joke you did about the beer bottle thing with the… with the…

ME: The ruffie joke?

HECKLER: Yeah! That’s how I know where… that was awesome, man! I’m gonna do that sometime!

ME: What, rape someone?

HECKLER: What? No, I should do the comedy thing sometime! I’m a funny guy! I don’t care what anybody says, I think I’m a really funny guy! I think I’m funny… and I could do comedy. I really do!

ME: You should try it sometime. It’s pretty easy.

HECKLER:… … You don’t like me, do you?

ME: Not really.

HECKLER: And that’s okay! At least you’re being honest with me! Not like sideburns over here (half heartedly shoves Brody, who has had his back to us the whole conversation, Brody turns to us) Man, those are some wicked sideburns. Let me buy you guys another drink!
(elapsed time, 30 minutes)

HECKLER: So I think I’m a funny guy, right? I can do this! It’s like the time I got a D.U.I. and had to go to court. All because I had two beers in an hour! The judge mad me pay a three thousand dollar fine! Two beers in AN HOOOUR! That’s fucked up, man! Can you believe that shit?

ME: (poking Brody in the back) Wow, that’s fucked up.

HECKLER: I know! Wait, hold on (he holds his finger up to me, tilts his head to the radio) I fucking love this song! (he proceeds to air drum)

ME: (noticing he’s momentarily distracted, but in on Brody and Lizzy’s conversation) Hey guys.

LIZZY: I’m sorry, Bill. We’re having a very spiritual conversation.

ME: Really? Me too. Can we go now?

HECKLER: (with the song over, stops drumming) Hey, let’s do some shots!
(elapsed time, 60 minutes)

HECKLER: Did you see the drumming, man? I used to, used to be in a band! It was fucking rad, man. We would tour and shit! Oh, and the pussy! Chicks dig it when you’re in a band, man. That was great. (stares off in the distance for about ten seconds, probably remembering when he was cool) Do you guys get any chicks with the comedy, man?

ME: No. Never.

HECKLER: Man. That sucks. You should be in a band! Fuckin’ jammin (starts to air drum again).

ME: (poking Brody in the back) Hey. Hey. Hey. (Brody and Lizzy both turn around).

HECKLER: Let me buy you guys another drink! (to Lizzy) You were really funny tonight!

LIZZY: Oh thank you!

HECKLER: You’re really pretty. You know that?

LIZZY: Oh… thank you.

HECKLER: But you know who’s really pretty? This guy! Just look at those sideburns! (strokes Brody’s sideburns)

BRODY: (gives me the “we should leave now” look)

ME: (gives Brody the “we should have left a fucking hour ago” look)
(elapsed time, 90 minutes)
(Approx. 1:00 A.M. Brody and I are in the parking lot walking toward his car)

BRODY: Dude, I’m sorry that took so long.

ME: Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you.

President’s Day

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President’s Day began as a celebration of George Washington, the first Commander in Chief that led colonists to victory in the Revolution, oversaw the Constitutional Convention and served two terms as our fledgling nation’s first president. Over time, the celebration included Abraham Lincoln. The man who held this country together as the secession threateaned to tear it apart while he apparently fought vampires. While eventually the meaning of President’s day has evolved to encompass the office of the Presidency and all who hold it, these two men still embody the spirit of the holiday with their values of patriotism, sacrifice and great deals on bedroom furniture.


"I cannot tell a lie. You shan't pay any interest on this desk until February 2013!"




Today we honor George Washington, who rallied the Continental troops after a series of devastating defeats from the British showing that we would settle for nothing less than independence and 50% off red tag items at Kohls.


We honor Abraham Lincoln, who fought for the ideal that all men, black and white, should be free from the slavery of a down payment on a new Kia.


We honor all Presidents, past and present, who hold the highest office in America and offer the lowest prices on power tools at JC Penny.


[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rUkIqP-YHBQ&w=420&h=315]

Thank you, Presidents Washington and Lincoln. Your sacrifice was not in vain.

“Bone Mangler” Playground Slides Recalled For Safety Reasons.

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Parents going overboard with protecting their children has been talked about so much it’s cliche. When thinking of child safety the image of “Tucker” or “Hunter” or whatever yuppie kid name comes to mind, covered head to toe in headpads and toehelmets.

"Mom! I can't move!"

So considering that this society is so afraid that it’s children is going to get a splinter that they wrap a child in pillows every time they play a board game it’s strange that this slide was sold to schools all over the country.

The Groinbuster! From Bustco!

This is the Slalom Glider and it’s currently being recalled like crazy because a bunch of kids fractured their bones on it. Look at it! It looks like it was designed to make kids fall off it.

not pictured: pit of broken glass at the bottom.

The weird part is that most of the kids who were injured on it were injured because there’s no platform between the ladder and the beginning of the slide so they were falling off the damn thing before even making their terror straddle ride down. I just hope there were no bullies in the playgrounds where these were installed. I remember one time in elementary school some kid held his hand out at the bottom of the slide and smacked me in the face. I can only imagine what he would have done if I had come at him spread-eagle.

The producer of the slide has apologized for their poor design and promised to replace each slalom glider with an abandoned refridgerator.

You can't escape the fun!

Rape: How Much is Too Much?

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Being a woman on Fox News has to be the easiest job in the world. Fox News has an obligation to give both conservative sides of the story and it’s hard to find educated, republican women in broadcasting since republican ideologies kind of tilt towards the “barefoot and pregnant” end of the spectrum. When Fox can get a woman on camera they’ll let her say whatever she wants and they have to agree with her because she’s a conservative. Victoria Jackson’s taken full advantage of it and political writer Andrew Coulter has spent years in drag just to get some screen time.



Classic "Bosom Buddies" grift.




One commentator who really tested the limits of this unwritten rule is journalist and horrible human being Liz Trotta



[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4ooMMue-qwQ&w=420&h=315]


I’m not going to explain why that’s wrong because I shouldn’t have to if you’re not a rapist and The Daily Show already did a perfect job skewering her. Hell, just google “Liz Trotta” and you can find an entire news media dogpile on her but what’s really strange is that it’s been nearly a week now and neither she nor Fox have issued any follow up statements to this. No apology, no backpedal, no defense, no announcement that she’s been fired. It’s like they’re just waiting for this all to blow over.


What’s even more messed up is that while this may be the most horrible thing she’s said on air, it’s not the first completely awful thing she’s said on air. Here she is wishing for the assassination of the President.



[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BjYpkvcmog0&hl=en_US&feature=player_embedded&version=3]


She later apologized for her “lame attempt at humor”.


Frankly, I think she wants to be fired. She’s been doing the pundit gig far too long and just wants to retire but she needs to get fired to get a severance package so she’s just going to say the most awful things and hope to get axed but Fox just won’t let her go. The question is how does she take it to the next level? She’s already called for the president’s assasination “jokingly” and told women who serve in the armed forces that they should expect to be raped. The only way she could step up her game is if she did a mashup of the two statements.


"Frankly, I think the President should expect to be raped."




Somebody should just tell her that if she wants Fox News to fire her she should come out in support of same sex marriage, universal health care or labor unions.