Colon Blow And You ... In The Morning!

This type of scatalogical humor ("Colon Blow? Sounds delicious!") went over huge with my brothers and I as kids. Yet somehow, I still find it amusing. You've gotta love the warning ("May cause abdominal distension") and the jingle at the end.

Phil Hartman is certainly missed.

"She's a Great Addition to Our Football Team ..."

Apparently, with only Ned Ginn Jr. in tow, the Dolphins are running short on fragile, overcompensated, overrated former Ohio State wide receivers. That's why Miami is all set to sign the until-now-only-rumored fifth Pointer Sister, Terry Glenn (shown above backstage after opening up for Chaka Kahn). Can Joey Galloway and David Boston be far behind?

For a long time, Glenn was best known as the high first-round draft pick famously referred to as "she" by his coach with the New England Patriots, Bill Parcells. Now, Parcells serves as the czar of player personnel for the 'Fins, meaning that he has now pursued and added a player he called a bitch to three different teams (Patsies, Cowboys, 'Fins).

Perhaps the saddest part of this story is that Miami is in such shape that a 34-year-old, injury-prone transvestite automatically becomes the best receiver on the squad.

When is the 2009 NFL Draft again? *Sigh*

He's a Bud Man -- And a Cubs Fan

With the Cubbies enjoying an amazing season thus far, it's hard not to wonder what Harry Caray would think of all this. Since I can't summon his ghost like Will Ferrell can, I'll just assume that he would be making funny, nonsencial comments like, "How can a Mexican ... lose the ball in the sun?!" It's sad that drinking in the press box is no longer considered quaint and acceptable.

On a side note, I think that I had blocked out the fact that Colin Quinn used to be on SNL. Who knew?

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Limerick Friday LXXXV: Not That There's Anything Wrong With That, LiLo

A new life choice for panty-less Lindsay Lohan
More serious than whether to get a freckled tan
Decided becoming a lesbian was what to do
So she bought a softball bat and a Subaru
Something tells me this'll land her in rehab again

Scott the Fish floated upside down, as all was a hush
His life passed in what seemed like a rush
He had a helluva run for a fish
And he had only one dying wish
Simply wanted a clean toilet for his final flush

Les Miles making cracks about 'Bama and Nick Satan
Urban Meyer's book blasted the Dawgs and their ref baitin'
No love lost throughout the SEC
Fall camp is approaching, as you can see
You know it's college football season when you hear all the hatin'

Trying to put a stop to the Obama train
A headline-stealing tactic by John McCain
Aims to name a running mate as the Olympics start
Who would be best to run with such an old fart?
Maybe dig up Jesse Helms as the Veep for your campaign

The new "Batman" decided to pick a fight
Living up to the example of "Dark Bobby Knight"
He cursed at his wife and sister like a Tourette's 'tard
Then Christian Bale quickly got arrested by Scotland Yard
Even his buddy Heath Ledger thinks that shit ain't right

Last time …

G-Lo Miracle

Take my hand
Can you see
The end of a life
Perched over a railing?
Will grass ever grow green
There again?
The wind blew
The grass rustled
You look up at me
You asked me a question
I pretended not to hear
My heart dropped
Into a different existence
Yet though you changed
The miracle of you
Never wavered
The sound
Of you
Your breathing
Your sighs
Your insights
Will chase me
Until the end of my days
Just like the shadows
And the prances
In my footsteps
Gallant you were
Until the very end
When you waved goodbye
In your very own way
That was always
Like no other
Shouldered me until
You needed
That burden returned
Trade and switch
Life is like that
Better I am
For having breathed
Your presence
Everything good
And pure
You lived in the moment
And though your life
Seemed to last just that long
It was tender
And true
So lift me up
From that other place
Curl around a dream
Where you never stop running
For the right reasons
You always
Licked away the tears
‘Til you were finally filled
The gift of you
Placed in the wind
Where you always pointed
Maybe it was your way
Of showing me the direction
Gentle friend
Brother
Son
Look up at me
From a prettier spot
That will always be green
My mind’s eye
Will always be brown
Gather you up
As you did me once
Break the leash
Open that door
And set you free
But never let you go

Begun These Clone Wars Have

Apparently, this animated version of the "Star Wars" epic hits the theaters on August 18.

I'm alternately feeling, "Holy crap!", intermixed with the sense that it is slightly a rip-off. But mostly "Holy crap!"

ACC Finds Newest Ref In Belarus

Commissioner Jim Swofford search for the world’s worst referees is never-ending and carries him all over the globe. After “Cheatin’” Larry Rose was booted off of ACC games, Swofford saw a need to add another drunken ref to the league, so, understandably, he stopped hiring from Foot Locker and instead focused his eyes on the game of … soccer.

That’s where he found 43-year-old Sergei Shmolik (that name is perfect for this story). A year ago, Shmolik was voted the best soccer referee in Belarus. This year, Shmolik was suspended for life after going on a vodka binge and then trying to referee a match while soused. He said he had a back injury, but when he was "blowing his whistle for no reason" and “gesturing like a clown” on the pitch, the gig was up. Fans applauded as he slowly, crookedly meandered off the field, escorted by dry-heaving, contact-buzzed fellow refs.



[*slow clap*]

Well-played, Mr. Schmolik. And welcome to the ACC.

"Tutu" Taylor Heads To D.C.

Last night, the 'Fins finally traded disgruntled, bitch-ish defensive end Jason Taylor to the Washington Redskins, receiving a second-round draft pick in 2009 and a sixth-rounder in 2010 in return.

This Dolfan was more than ready for this wannabe movie star to take his act (click on the image) to another stage.

Limerick Friday LXXXIV: Madonna and A-Rod, Sitting in a Spaceship …

Is there a bigger phony around than A-Rod?
Adultery sponsored by the scientology “god”?
He called Madonna his freaking soulmate
Someone tell him that this ain’t 1988
She’s a busted, Botox-ridden ho—but maybe you’re two peas in a pod

She tried every color pantsuit with no luck
Obama helping Hillary cover the debt with which she’s stuck?
She paid out of her own purse for personal gain
To attack him with a slimy campaign
You would think Barack would tell her to go take a flying fuck

More hidden info that Katrina trailers were dangerous as hell
Too many passing out while thinking, “What is that smell?”
45 times the safe level of formaldehyde is too much to take
No regulations put even more lives at stake
If this government cares about its own country, it’s hard to tell

We all know that the Dolphins ain’t good
As Herb Sendek said, they have to keep chopping wood
But chainsawing firewood in the Texas July
Is no way to become Miami’s #1 QB guy
But if anyone could improve minus one finger, Josh McCown could

Carrying a sign that said “McCain=Bush”
Got a 60-year-old librarian thrown out on her tush
Tells you about how bad this administration has lost
When the more mention of W’s name gets you tossed
Who will McCain turn to when his wheelchair needs a push?

Last time …

Action News Hard Liquor at 6 … 40!

I imagine this is mostly how Regis operates …

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Manuel’s Metsies Try To Quiet the Flushing in Flushing

It’s always comical to follow the one-extreme-to-another coverage approach used by the New York media. One day, pundits are wondering whether a certain team is the worst to ever put on a uniform. The next, after a win, those same hacks are gauging the chances of the same team to win every game the rest of the way and take home the crown. It’s simply a part of what makes the Big Apple the Big Apple, and if you have the ability to take a step back and accept it for what it’s worth, it can offer quite a few laughs.

This year’s treatment of the New York Mets has been more humorous than ever. Following the cataclysmic collapse down the stretch last year, when the Metsies gift-wrapped the division title for the Philadelphia Phillies and caused more gray hair in New Jersey than Three Mile Island, the team was public enemy #1 this season. When Willie Randolph’s squad played more like the Bad News Bears than one of the highest-paid clubs in the majors, both barrels were unloaded in the Mets direction—and deservedly so. Then, when Randolph decided to try to make himself a martyr, poorly play the race card and align himself with one Isaiah Thomas … well, let’s just say the writing was on the wall.

Enter laid-back Jerry Manuel, whose one-of-the-guys approach has helped build a little more team chemistry and get the squad clicking. Propelled by four shutouts in six games and five straight games of holding teams to three hits or less, New York entered the All-Star break on a nine-game winning streak. The streak is the longest since the World Series year of 2000 and just two shy of the team record of 11 in a row. Manuel has gotten through to borderline head cases like Carlos Beltran and Jose Reyes, and he somehow has even gotten Shea boo victim Carlos Delgado hitting (six homers, 17 RBI in last 17 games).

The Mets have outscored teams by a whopping 54-19 during the winning streak, spurring optimism for the second half, where once there was just depression. Predictably, the media hordes are now falling all over themselves in an attempt to climb aboard the Mets bandwagon (isn’t this the ideal column title: “On second thought, Mets look like winners”).

Will the All-Star break bring a halt to his momentum? Not if Manuel has anything to say about it. “It’s not a period, it’s a comma,” he told the New York press, when asked about the upcoming interruption for All-Star festivities.

The Mets still have a ton of questions to answer, of course. Can Pedro Martinez stay healthy long enough? Can the club provide Johan Santana with some run support? Can Fernando Tatis continue to fill the shoes of Moises Alou—and then some? Can Billy Wagner stop his metamorphosis into Armando Benitez? Can Delgado and Beltran find the consistency needed to support the steady David Wright? Can Reyes keep from taking swings at Keith Hernandez long enough to find more ways to get on base?

And of course, a nine-game winning streak usually just means that the Metsies are biding time to come up with more creative ways to break fans’ hearts. But for now, I’m just grateful that the music coming from Flushing currently involves more cheers—instead of just the sounds of flushing toilets.

Fuckin' "The Dark Bobby Knight" Full Of By-God Sentimentality

This lightly goddam marketed sequel to fuckin' "Hoosiers" has received little christin' fanfare, but it certainly tugs at the bullshittin' heartstrings.

No truth to the rumor that Knight choked Heath Ledger to death during filming.

Fuckin' A.

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10 Good Things About the LPGA’s Paula Creamer

1. She shot a 60 in one of her rounds at the Jamie Farr Classic, dropping seven birdies on the front nine.

2. She went on to win the Jamie Farr Classic for her fifth career win. “Klinger” would be so proud.

3. Her nickname is the “Pink Panther.” No comment.

4. On a not-completely-unrelated note, she has a ready-made porn name already built in for her post-golf career.

5. She’s earned more than $5 million already in career earnings.

6. She looks a bit like L.C. from “The Hills.” This is a good thing.

7. She is one of the top five women’s golfers in the world.

8. She is 21 years old (this may not, in fact, be a good thing. I don't know these things anymore).

9. She is not unattractive.

10. She likes golf. A lot.

Limerick Friday LXXXIII: Brett Fahv-ruh Ain’t No Short Round

Threatening to retire for five years
He walked away a few times in tears
His love of the numbness of Vicadin
Eclipsed only by that of John Madden
It’s time for Brett Favre to quit disrespecting his peers

I once worked for a midget who couldn’t see me
He was called “Blindy” by a dead-ringer for Mimi
It was a blunder that led to her firing
Of her sadomasochistic tendencies I’m not inquiring
But apparently men in dog cages make her dreamy

Another blog for the Asian ‘stache we clowned
Went anonymous after burning his reputation to the ground
Of dating, couldn’t imagine anyone knowing less
Secretly dreams of a semi-retarded EZU fan to caress
Bitter because Spielberg never called about him being Short Round

More layoffs by a joke of a company in pharma
Those left fire off resumes in alarm-a
You treat people like shit it comes back in the end
Leaves you with a bad reputation and without a friend
Pretty soon they’ll find out what a bitch is that kharma

To another great comic we bid adieu
George Carlin was a genius, ‘tis true
Of politics and religion he wasn’t scared
Treaded on ground where no one else dared
In his honor, I counted curse words numbering 72

Last time ...

Jesse Helms Died.

Or maybe he’s been dead for 20 years and someone just got around to telling his slave wife.

Either way, there’s not a whole lot more I can say about this development that doesn’t involve the words “fish-faced,” “wall-eyed,” “communist” or “KKK.” In fact, any epitaph for Jesse Helms should borrow heavily from Chevy Chase’s epic blast in “Christmas Vacation.”

I think the last time I heard Jesse Helms’s name uttered was probably two years ago, when I was down in New Orleans. We were sitting on a bench, admiring the Mississippi and thinking of ol’ Huck Finn, when “Doc Saxtrum,” a busker of some local renown, walked up to us and began playing his saxophone. During a break, he asked us where we were from. When we replied “North Carolina,” he paused, shook his head imperceptibly and put on a sardonic smile. “Aah …,” he replied, “Jesse Helms.”

We rushed to assure him that we didn’t claim Helms for North Carolina at all, but I couldn’t help but think the damage was done. Once again, an ignorant, narrow-minded racist without the creative capacity to light a light bulb had made me embarrassed to live in North Carolina.

I imagine Jesse Helms and Strom Thurmond spent their final days together on some plantation veranda, throwing rocks at little black kids who were making chalk murals on the sidewalk. Hopefully, there’s a special place in Hades for buttnuggets like them.

Good riddance.

ScarCruz Coming To Theaters Near You

In case you wanted an update on the already-infamous, much-talked-about Scarlett-Penelope-fill-in-whoever-you-want cinematic threesome, the trailer for Vicki Cristina Barcelona has been released. Scarlett's recent engagement has made her dead to me, but I thought this was still worth updating.

Good times ...

New "X-Files" Movie Brings Out My Inner Ex-Nerd

I found out today (apparently, I’ve been pretty much out of the loop between moving, switching jobs and other events) that a new “X-Files” movie comes out later this month. “X-Files: I Want To Believe” wrapped filming in Vancouver in mid-March and will be released on July 25 in the United States. The original stars of the show, David Duchovny (Fox Mulder) and Gillian Anderson (Dana Scully) are back for more, a decade after the first movie, “X-Files: Fight the Future,” appeared. I am irrationally excited about this development.

Though the “X-Files” initially had more of a cult following, in the six years since the series ended, it has come to be more understood and appreciated. In fact, Entertainnment Weekly recently tabbed “X-Files” as the fourth-best show of the past quarter-century. On a personal level, I’m a rather cynical dude, so the idea of government cover-ups and blatant mistrust of the highest levels of bureaucracy sort of played right into my belief system. Of course, it didn’t hurt that I was briefly in love with Gillian Anderson, who I’m guessing represented some type of post-adolescent Princess Leia for me.

These days, it’s difficult to find smart, compelling TV to watch, which has led me to latch on to intelligent shows like “Lost,” “Heroes” and “Bones.” In fact, “Bones” is basically the “X-Files” with a lab component; the relationship between Booth and Brennan is eerily similar to the one between Mulder and Scully, although aspects of it have been taken to caricature level.

In this difficult time between the end of college basketball season and the beginning of NFL training camps, many of us needed something worthwhile to come along to fight the boredom. Well, hello, “X-Files” … you’ve been missed.