MSNBC has an article up about how flirting your way to the top might not work. It states that flirting in the workplace “blurs your intentions and can easily confuse others around you. Consider what you really want to communicate to others. When in doubt, ask yourself: Would I feel comfortable if my partner — or my grandmother — were here?”. Frankly, if I conducted every conversation like my grandmother were in the room the only things I could ever talk about would be the pope, the weather and this place up in Lindstrom that makes the best pies.

What’s strange about the article is that it seems to go back and forth a bit on whether flirting in a professional environment actually works. To get a more concise answer, I decided to try some flirting myself to see if it actually helps. As a comedian, my bosses are club owners and booking agents so I enlisted the help of friend, comedian and booker of Rick Bronson’s House of Comedy Mike Brody!

NOTE:  While this conversation was conducted via IM, Brody only agreed to do this if I made it very clear that he will never, under any circumstances, book a comedian via IM.  Send an email if you want work.  

The scene is set.  It’s a week after I’ve featured at his club.

ME:  Hey, thanks for the work last week. I had a great time.  So, is that a banana in your pants or are you ready to book me again as a feature?

BRODY:  Excuse me?

ME:  I’m pretty “open” if you get my drift (raises eyebrows).  My entire December is “open” or I can go into the next year. I’m quite flexible (lifts leg above head, licks inner thigh)

BRODY:  I don’t know if I have anything in December. But with that flexibility you just flaunted, you can enter the MN’s Got Talent variety show this August.  Contortionist Bill.  I think I’m going to need to see a tape, though.

ME:  Ha!  Well, do you have any thoughts. Did you feel like you were more inclined to book me when I used flirtation instead of a less personal approach?

BRODY:  Honestly, I felt like I was more inclined to throw up.  Nobody should have to visualize you licking your inner thigh.  It haunts me.

While I can’t tell if that just didn’t work or if he was just playing hard to get, I’ll be opening for Mike Brody all week at the House of Comedy August 3-7(click for showtimes/tickets/candy)! Come on out!

Early last evening I was giving my bike a quick ride around the block after lubing up the chain and gears.   Everything seemed to be in working order until I tried to shift once and the gear shifted four times, bringing my leg down quickly and unexpectedly.  My foot hit the ground, the bike came to a stop and I launched over the handlebars, skidding about four feet on the ground and scraping plenty of flesh on the way –

Jared saw it, walked up all zombie like, pretended to take a bite out of my arm and said "that's how you got that."

I spent about 30 seconds or more writhing on the ground screaming “FUCKING COCK FUCK COCK FUCK COCK FUCK FUUUUCCCCK” like a telegraph machine with tourettes (fuck=dash / cock=dot) when I noticed that I was right across the street from a fairly crowded Whittier park.  I sat up and noticed no fewer than 20 small children that abruptly stopped playing, staring at me and soaking in the profanity I let fly.  I struggled to my feet and said “I’m okay!” when a hispanic woman came running across the street.  I think she wanted to help.  Here’s how our conversation went.

HISPANIC LADY:  (unintelligible spanish)

ME:  Thanks, I’m okay.

HISPANIC LADY:  (more unintelligible spanish)

ME:  Yeah, I don’t really speak spanish but I’ll be okay.

HISPANIC LADY:  (even more unintelligible spanish)

ME:  Seriously, I’m okay.  I don’t know how to… I’m just going to go now.  Thanks.

Just as I turned around to leave, another older woman walked up to see if I’m okay.  She spoke english but proved no more helpful than the one who didn’t.

OLD LADY:  (examines the four foot bloody skidmark on the sidewalk and then my arm).  That’s a nasty scrape you got there.  It’s bleeding real good.

ME:  Yeah, I only live a block away so I’ll be able to get home real quick and clean this up.

OLD LADY:  That’s good.  Make sure you put something on it.

ME:  I got some alcohol at home so I’ll be fine.  I should go-

OLD LADY:  Or you could put some other stuff on there.  What’s that stuff called?

ME:  Hydrogen Peroxide?  I should really-

OLD LADY:  No, that’s not it.  What am I thinking of?

ME:  Neosporin?  Hey, I’m still bleeding so I’m going to go-

OLD LADY:  Wait, I almost got it.  It doesn’t sting like alcohol.

ME:  Bactine?  I’m going to just go home now because of the blood.  Thanks.

OLD LADY:  No, that’s not it either.

I just left after that.  About halfway down the block, I looked back and saw her still standing there, looking down with her hand on her chin, probably still trying to think of what that stuff was called.

So I just last week heard of the weird internet craze of planking where you get a photo of you lying rigid (like a plank) on some awkward surface

and now I hear Planking is over.  It’s all about Owling now

Goddamnit!  It’s fourth grade all over again where I’m wearing slap bracelets and everybody has already moved onto pogs.

Even worse, Access Hollywood has tried to start a new trend of Lamping (Note: The link is to a yahoo morning wacky news clip show. It’s horribly written and performed and the link is here only to prove that Lamping exists. Only click on it if you’re looking to cringe, like, 20 times in three minutes) where you wear a lampshade on your head.

I need to make up some of my own fad meta comedy photo trends if I’m going to be relevant here. How about –

Thinking:  Strip naked, cover yourself in quick dry cement and pose like you’re Rodin’s Thinker

Cooking:  Grab a microphone and crouch real low like you’re going to say something important but then say nothing of importance like Dane Cook

The website I got this from had pics from a show he did in Vegas. There are no less than three crouching or "Cooking" shots.

Fountaining.  Fill your mouth up with water and take a picture of you spitting out a steady stream like a fountain.

Mickey Rourke "fountaining".

Feel free to leave a comment with any other ideas for stupid picture games!

I was reading an ironically vanilla article on CNN about fetishes and it made me think of “Rule #34.” For those who don’t know, Rule #34 of the internet states that “if it exists, there is porn/an established fetish of it” (Rules #1-33 mostly deal with not giving your bank account info to Nigerian princes).

If you search around, you’ll start to think this is true (dear god whatever you do don’t google image search “clown porn”) but there are certain exceptions. Patrick Bauer has a joke about how nobody fetishizes condoms but I think there’s more out there. Specifically, Ben Stein talking about the economy.

Seriously. Listen to this and I guarantee you won’t be turned on.

I rest my case. Feel free to leave a comment about anything else that’s impossible to fetishize.

Last night my wife was on the internet and read a story about how a nursing mother was asked to leave a Ruby Tuesday because an old couple complained.  This is odd because the elderly are usually such gracious patrons (generous tippers, too) but the sight of a baby eating was too much for these people and got in the way of their enjoyment of bacon wrapped shrimp and Summer Peach Sangria served by a overenthusiastic teenager wearing no less than 30 flashing buttons.  The mom was asked to leave in spite of the fact that Ruby Tuesday’s policy and Maryland law both state women can breastfeed anywhere in public.

Personally, I may be a little uncomfortable witnessing a breastfeeding.  I know breasts are beautiful and natural but to have them obscured by something like a feeding baby is a little offensive to me.  I wouldn’t complain about it, though.  Not my place.

Once La Leche League, a non profit that promotes education for breastfeeding (sometimes up to 4 years old.  Seriously.  Kind of creepy) caught wind of this, they staged a “Nurse In” at the Ruby Tuesday’s. The restaurant was more than happy to participate and turned it into an event where over 40 mothers came with their babies to nurse and show their support.

That’s all well and good but where’s the justice? What of the old couple that embarrassed that young woman? I think they should have been forced to attend the “nurse in” and have a meal. Not a corner booth, either. I’m talking table in the middle of the room. Surrounded by nursing mothers. Make sure the moms don’t talk, either. So all you hear is that weird suckling noise and baby grunting.

Try enjoying your coleslaw now, you old assholes.

This website is powered by WordPress which allows me to check various stats like page views, links and other cool stuff without having to know a lot of stuff about computers.  One of the stats I can look at is “search engine terms” or, the things people type into google and other search engines (I’m still rooting for you, ask.com!) result in a click to this site. I have to say, a lot of the things typed into google that leads here is pretty unsettling. Here’s my 5 favorites.

5:  foreskin man penis.  I can see how this one would lead to the site, considering the blog I did on Foreskin Man(Issue 3 is out! He goes to Africa and meets the superheroine “Vulva Girl”. No lie) but I don’t think that’s what this person was looking for.

4:  todd  palin hairy chest.  Again, I get it.  I’ve written a post about Sarah Palin but I can’t help but feel sorry for the poor closeted Alaskan who was looking for some sweet shirtless pics and just ended up here. Disappointed perverts is kind of the theme of this whole post. Speaking of which –

3:  public young fucking.  Alright.  My last name is Young and I swear a lot.  That covers the last two words but public?  Your guess is as good as mine.  What’s really disturbing is that somebody out there is googling porn.  Think about it.  Anybody who has had the internet and functioning sex organs for more than two months already has their website that they go to.  It’s free, usually has things sorted by genre and is loaded with thousands of hours of content.  There’s about a half dozen sites like that out there and most everybody has figured it out but this guy (or gal but probably guy), however, is still googling porn.  It’s creepy.

2:  how can lives be saved in africa?  Thank god somebody has finally decided that this is a problem that needed solving or at the very least, googling.  Unfortunately, this young idealistic would be hero ended up at my blog with no answers.

1:  shitting while standing bad for health.  I’m not even going to bother trying to figure out how this led to our website but why would anybody ever need to type this into a search engine?  Was this person honestly shitting while standing so much that when they started to get back pain the figured it was related?  Why were they shitting while standing to begin with?  How do you even do that without making a huge mess everywhere?  GODDAMNIT YOU PEOPLE ARE SICK.

Honorable mentions:

revenge of curly’s ghost

gbtv what the fuck

goes on a plate

palin in prophecy 2012

should we worry about may 21st 2011

So I was doing my morning search of the internets for news stories I could make funny-ish comments on when I saw a story on MSNBC with the headline “Mom dives out 5th-floor window to save falling toddler.”

That’s a badass headline. I clicked on the link and fully prepared for a story where a toddler somehow opens a window and falls out. The mother, seeing this, immediately dives out after him. She straightens out her body and pulls her limbs in close to catch up with the falling child, grabs him and does one of those parkour rolls onto the ground. Having absorbed all the impact, she lays there with several broken bones and when the somebody runs up to help she looks at them and the first thing she says would be “is my baby alright? Before she passes out the child crawls up and says his first word. That word is ‘mama'”.

Badass.

Also, not the case.

Once I read the story I found out that when the baby fell out, he fell down to the 4th floor balcony (just one floor below). The mom then jumped down to help her baby because running down the stairs and knocking on your neighbor’s door and saying “Oh hey my baby’s out on your balcony because I like to keep windows open on my 5th floor apartment with toddlers running around” takes way too much time. She broke her ankle and the baby bruised his head. Both are currently being treated for a hereditary strain of stupidity.

Not what I was expecting at all with that headline but I guess “Mom, child fall 8 feet. Slightly hurt. Very stupid.” just doesn’t pop.

Hey folks! I have to go to the county courthouse today to retrieve my car from the evil clutches of the impound lot so here’s a blog I wrote 50 years ago on myspace! Enjoy!

The glint of flash bulbs dotted my blurring vision. The ring of the bell still hung in my ears as I fell down on to the stool in the corner of the ring. Doc wrenched out my mouthguard, stuck in a straw and squeezed in a shot of warm water. I spit a mess of pink into the bucket held in front of my face and gulped down as much air as I could.
The crowd roared. Heads bobbing up and down, fists pumping. The arena got their first taste of blood tonight. They wanted more. Piston Honda spent the first two rounds tenderizing me like a plate of Kobe beef and the fire in his eyes only seemed to intensify. He obviously hasn’t forgotten about when I stole the minor title from him early in my career. He’s been training since then. Getting better, faster. The time spent between when he blinks his eyes 3 times and throws a jab has halved. He won’t stop.
If there’s three things I know about the Japanese, honor is everything to them, they’re 7 feet tall and you get a star punch if you hit them in the face right before they throw an uppercut.
Time was running short. I needed my trainer to tell me something, anything to get me through the third and final round. I take in as much air as I can and gasp “He’s hurt me, Doc!”.
Doc pats me on the shoulder, looks across the ring and says “Dodge his punch, then counter-punch!”.
“Really? That’s like, the first thing you learn in boxing. Help me, Doc. Please!”. Doc swung me around, jammed my mouthguard back in and looked straight into my eyes. “Join the Nintendo Fun Club today, Mac!” I get shoved back out into the middle of the ring. I crane my neck up to make eye contact with Piston because he is literally three feet taller than me. He looks down and hisses through his mouthguard “I’m going to give you a T.K.O… from Tokyo!”. The bell rings.
I’m a dead man.

In what’s actually considered a news story in Bemidji MN, MSNBC reports that the town is considering changing the name of Stoner Avenue due to the fact that it’s street signs are stolen several times a year. In an actual quote from the article, it states “It’s believed the thieves are likely teens or young people who use the term stoner to describe someone who smokes marijuana” leading me to believe the article was written by a 60 year old man in a brown suit who uses words like “doobie” without irony.

The city is considering changing the name to something that is less likely to be stolen, forcing the young doobie tokers of Bemidji to show their love of marijuana other ways like listening to Sublime or shopping at Spencer Gifts. I don’t know if they’re accepting submissions but here are some of my ideas for the new street name.

Bongwater Trail
420th St.
Bob Marley Memorial Highway
Synching Up Dark Side of the Moon and Wizard of Oz Avenue
Cypress Hill
Woody Harrelson Way

I don’t know who to submit to but I’m sure I’ll find some email address on http://www.ci.bemidji.mn.us/ . Wish me luck!