Thursday, January 29, 2009

The Weight

Girls, we know what you want.

We know EXACTLY what you are doing.

But goddamn if we aren't too competitive to care.

You have one of "those" days - a day where you feel chubby or your sexy jeans don't fit quite right. So as you pout you look at us and lay a bear trap the size of Tom Cruise's crazy -

"How much do you think I weigh?"

Damn you, Devil Woman.

We know what you want - and you think it is easy. All we have to do is guess some number that is probably 10-15 lbs less than you weight. We can't guess TOO low or it is obvious we are sucking up - but we have to be sure it is at least 10 lbs less than you actually weigh.

But here is the problem - guys don't know how to completely give up. You challenged us - you asked us a question and goddamn if we aren't going to answer it.

You see, guys are addicted to competition - and just by ASKING that question, you are an enabler.

Do you think when Dan Marino's wife asks him how much he weighs he just backs down and guesses some wrong number? Fuck no! Dan takes a 5-step drop and launches a 60 yard touchdown pass. Then he cures cancer.

Do you think that Les Stroud just backs off when his wife asks him if she still fits into those sexy jeans? Wrong - he makes a canoe out of an elephant carcass, arm wrestlers an alligator and stops smoking cold turkey.

Because we are guys - and our biggest weakness is not boobies - it is competition. You can't throw out a question and not expect me to give 110% to nail that bad boy on the head. I'm not here to make friends, I'm here to win meaningless competitions that wield absolutely no prize.

So you can get mad, and pout and make me sleep on the couch - but I'll still be a Man.

Just like Dan Marino.

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Would Ya Wednesday on Wednesday - Is This A Joke?

In a twist of irony - I am buried in snow and the homeless are probably out laughing and frolicking in the streets.

BTW - someone become a rapper and have your name be Iron-E. I'd do it but I don't want to derail my chances of becoming the world's foremost specialist on zombification. And zombi-destruction.

But I could talk about zombies all day - lets get on to more pressing issues. And by pressing I mean pressing together crotches.

Oh thats right, I made you work for it but now it's time for WOULD YA WEDNESDAY!!!!...on Wednesday...I know that is redundant but I didn't want someone who was used to Would Ya Wednesday being on Thursday or Friday to get confused and then miss American Idol tonight. Oh, the horror.

Today's theme is comedians and comediennes. Because I'd like to see her comedi-end! Get it? Get it?

Innuendpwned.

Anyways here are the rules - I provide the set-up for two people and you tell me whether you would give them a punchline...with your naughty bits.

So put your hands together and get ready to make improv in your pants -

Dane Cook



Tina Fey

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Sidewalkless

I've seen a lot of crazy homeless people in my day.

I mean I live in Cleveland - the line between homeless guy and middle class citizen isn't that well defined. Our economy has fallen deeper than that guy's voice from the Men's Warehouse commercials.

You're gonna like the way you look, I guarantee it.

I've talked about my adventures with the homeless before. Actually, in my second post ever and again in my Homeless Moses rant. But now it is getting out of hand.

We had a snow storm. Believe it or not this happens in Cleveland, Ohio. In fact, Cleveland has two things - snow and Drew Carey. Paul Newman dying really fucked us over for "Cool things coming from our city". Maybe Tracy Chapman will have another hit one of these days. She could do a "Fast Car" remix with Ja Rule. It'd be huge!

Back to the point - it stopped snowing a week ago. The salt trucks have been out, the sidewalks are clean and the salt ring on my jeans has made it all the way up to my neck. Margarita, anyone?

In other words; get over it, Homeless.

You can return to your homes now. Your homes being the sidewalks. That includes the rich homeless people who sleep on manholes and the poor homeless people that sleep on park benches. All of you - back to the sidewalks.

I think there should be a countdown - after a week with no snow, any homeless person caught walking in the center of the street wearing all black should be captured and taken in. These will be tracked - like a homeless person scavenger hunt. Or I guess a scavenger scavenger hunt. The person with the most homeless people by April 1st wins a prize.

Like a Tracy Chapman CD.

Ok, I'm still working out the details.

And before anyone freaks about cruelty - as soon as April 1st hits all the homeless people will be set free and able to go home.

Or, at least back to the sidewalk.

Sunday, January 25, 2009

Plum Out of Ideas

I had the privilege of spending not one, but two evenings with everyone's favorite blogger, Alexa, from Cleveland's a Plum. Here are some highlights:

- Her hoping the guy at the jukebox would play some "Jay-Z or Vampire Weekend or something". Because those are so related. I'm into all kind of music but can't quite make the jump form indie rock to gangster rap that quickly. I coined her musical taste as "Hipster Hop". Which also sounds like something my grandma would say.

- In an extended analogy of blogging being a lot like high school, we had a ten minute argument over whether she would be the Prom Queen or MC. Either way I'm the drunk guy who is drinking a flask in the boys' room. Who wants to get lucky?

- Her insisting I suck on a lemon after taking her favorite shot - a "Chocolate Cake". The shot does taste exactly like chocolate cake but why would I suck a lemon after that? Who adds lemon to their chocolate cake? If I were in a normal social situation and licked salt off of my hand, ate cake and then sucked a lemon people would think I was a special needs kid. Or Ben Stiller (was that redundant?)

- Alexa wearing a black shirt. Both nights. I talked to a guy who said one time in the 80's she wore an actual color but I find that hard to believe. Whatever she has against Roy G. Biv runs deep.

- After two hours of talking about the 20SB meet-up like it was a Jonas Brothers' concert I made the comment, "we are driving 6 hours to hang out with people we met online." When you put it like that it kind of makes it sound like a Star Trek convention.

- Alexa - "I met Winona Ryder one time."

Me - "Did she say anything about me?"

Alexa - "No - do you really think she is hot? Even though she is a kleptomaniac?"

Me - "The only thing she stole is my heart."

Alexa - "Seriously, stop it."

I don't know why she was so mean - Ben Stiller would have thought that was funny.

Friday, January 23, 2009

Would Ya Wednesday Update

I was driving into work listening to my favorite XM station "Outlaw Country" (insert joke here) and the DJ (who's country accent was thicker than Tom Selleck's mustache) started talking about Bobby Flay's show on another channel. It went something like this -

"If you're a man and you're having a bit a trouble in your life - you might go check out Bobby Flay's show. He'll tell you how to make the perfect game-day sandwich and how to lay a woman. I swear I think he talks 'bout all that!"

So there you have it - Bobby Flay is a ladies man.

And for all of you wondering why I didn't have Giada and her giant head as a choice - of course the answer is yes! That would be like putting Marissa Miller as a choice. I guess that analogy doesn't work for the ladies...it would be like putting myself as a choice. I'm dreamy.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Would Ya Wednesday on Thursday - Kiss The Cook Edition

Hey Sportsfans - it is time to put your money where your crotch is; that's right it's - WOULD YA WEDNESDAY!

(raaaaah!)

Would Ya Wednesday is the weekly segment that pits your loins against your morals. Carefully examining just how slutty (very) or respectable (not at all) you really are.

For those of you who haven't played before - I hope you have all of your shots.

Here are the rules - I put up a pinch of male, a dash of female - mix it together with some roofies and cigarettes and BAM! You tell me if you would put a bun in their oven.

This week's theme - chefs. Now remember, Dear Promiscuous Reader, you are simply kneading their dough - no obligations beyond that - so don't get your panties in a bunch (those of you that didn't drop them when I said "Would Ya Wednesday" - seriously didn't your mother raise you better than that?)

Bobby Flay -

Rachel Ray -

The O-bomb-a

I love me some Obama. I voted for him, went to the rallies, got a tattoo of his face on my ass - you know, the normal stuff.

But I don't love him in the way some of you girls did after you saw him with his shirt off.

By the way - why did you print out a picture of him and lock yourself in the bathroom? And it sounded like you were using an electric razor. And did I hear you scream - "OH! Bama!" Gross. God is watching you, Reader.

But my general excitement is nothing compared to the full on Man-Crush CNN has for the man. (In this joke CNN is male - just go with it.)

Yesterday's coverage of the inauguration was like a group of 14 year old girls doing a 12 hour show about the Jonas Brothers. CNN should have consulted E! for advice on how to cover it. I am pretty sure we would have been better served with Ryan Seacrest doing interviews and Joan Rivers giving commentary.

I don't know if you've looked outside lately, but it ain't good out there. Obama may have super powers, but he can't clean this up overnight. I'm pretty sure at the CNN headquarters, Wolf Blitzer and Anderson Cooper woke up in their race car bunk beds and went running down the stairs this morning to see what jolly ol' Obama had left under their Christmas tree. "Awwwwwwww! Tax plans! Again?"

But after the last few years I understand why there is excitement. And yesterday was a huge, huge event in American History. Bigger, perhaps than the Real World Finale. But not bigger than the Reunion Special. I can't believe _____ and _____ got in a fight! And that _____ and _____ broke up! (This is Real World Mad Libs - just fill in cast members from your favorite season.)

But the single greatest moment of reporting came around 10:30am -

"Ok - as you can see some of senators have decided to wear hats. Notice not ALL of them have hats on - some have decided to brave the cold. There is Senator Kennedy - he does NOT have a hat. Behind him are a few more hats."

If only Ryan Seacrest were there to get the full scoop.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Frost / Lickins

I have long been searching for a motto to live my life by.

In high school it was, "Not in the face!"

In college it was, "She's not THAT fat!"

But these left me empty inside; searching for something that had more meaning and wondering why it burned when I peed.

I needed more guidance in my life - I needed to find something I could believe in.

Well, I believe in frosting.

I've decided that from now on - anything written in frosting must be true (with the caveat that I get to eat said frosting).

"Happy Birthday Frank" Happy, indeed - any event with frosting is a happy one.

"Sorry About Your Loss" I am sorry - you used to have a full cake and now I am eating most of it. Talk about a loss.

"We're Going To Miss You, Clarice" Hmmm - who is Clarice? Apparently her presence brought me cake; now that she is leaving there will be no cake - so yes, yes I will miss you Clarice...anyone know if she is hot? That cake has fantastic, punctuation by the way.

Of course, this new belief does have it's downside -



Hey! I'm not old!

Can I have a corner piece?

Sunday, January 18, 2009

Raising Arizona

The Arizona Cardinals are in the Super Bowl.

The Arizona Cardinals.

That is like Ben Stiller winning an Oscar - you are less confused on how he won than how he even got invited.

But instead of the Oscars it's the Playoffs. And instead of Ryan Seacrest it's Suzie Colbert.

Ok maybe that isn't so bad.

I was ONE when my beloved Dolphins last made the Super Bowl.

One.

Barely old enough to drink.

And now the Detroit Lions of the west - the Arizona Freaking Cardinals (that's their middle name in case you didn't know, Sports Fans) are in the Super Bowl.

I was actually fine with the Dolphins losing in the playoffs till now. I feel like some smoking hot girl broke up with me and is now dating a complete Nerd. I thought the Super Bowl was out of my league till I saw who got invited after me. Now I cry at night and listen to Dashboard Confessional.

The Cardinals making the Super Bowl is an insult to my fanhood. I spent every single Sunday since August getting wasted and arguing about whether Tom Brady is a product of the system or a great QB. Only to find out the CARDINALS make the Super Bowl.

For you non-sports fans this would be like watching an entire season of American Idol only to find out Taylor Hicks wins.

Oh...so maybe you do know what I am talking about.

Friday, January 16, 2009

Nickelback Away Slowly

The Setting - Chipotle on a cold, windy winter's day

The Characters - Myself, a strapping, charming, witty, punctual man of 25 and another guy who was probably like 30 or something. I don't know, I'm not a mathematician.

Me - "I can't wait to eat some delicious burrito and then spend the rest of my afternoon in the bathroom."

Guy - "Ha - yeah I'm going for extra beans and hot sauce."

Me - "That is like a death wish - your bathroom is going to smell like a Nickelback song."

Guy - "Ha - yeah, I love Nickelback, too."

Wait - WHAT? I just compared Nickelback to your assplosion and you think I was complimenting them? I thought I was actually insulting your bowel movement by comparing it to Nickelback. How could you possibly take me comparing your weapon of ass destruction to a band as me being a fan? Since when is feces the standard unit of measurement for awesomeness?

"Dude! Did you see the new Batman? It was a total shitter, man."

Conclusion - I haven't slept in three days because some guy in the Chipotle line thinks I am a Nickelback fan.

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Would Ya Wednesday on Thursday - American Idol!

It's time to celebrate the chance for simple, everyday Americans to become stars. A chance to become a worldwide celebrity; complete with paparazzi, TV shows and thousands of people downloading your material online.

No, I'm not talking about Kim Kardashian making a sex tape -

I'm talking about Would Ya Wednesday on Thursday - American Idol Edition!

For those of you have never been to a Would Ya Wednesday before - just close your eyes and let it happen. The safe word is "burger".

The rules - I audition two pictures and you tell me if you would take two steps forward and two steps back that ass up. Some of you pretend to have morals, some of you pretend to have a wild side and some of you pretend you haven't seen the Kim Kardashian sex tape.

Seriously, she just lays there!

So without further adieu - loosen your belt and welcome them to Hollywood -

Simon Cowell


Paula Abdul

Monday, January 12, 2009

Swamp Thang

There are a lot of celebrities that have faded from the limelight for whatever reason - Macaulay Culkin, Fred Savage and Christopher Reeves to name a few - but perhaps no one has fallen from grace more than Swamp Thing.

When was the last time you saw someone reference Swamp Thing? Twilight comes out and everyone and their sister is trying to bone a vampire - meanwhile Swamp Thing might as well change his name to mud.

What does Mummy have that Swamp Thing doesn't? If I am ever traveling through Egypt and accidentally stumble into some undiscovered part of the pyramids and anger King Tut then maybe I'll be scared that some ancient body is going to pry it's way out of a coffin and chase me at a pace that makes zombies look like Cheetah on the Nintendo Power Pad Track game.


Fighting the Mummy is like beating up Pauly Shore. Big whoop. You just grab a piece of his cloth and pull really hard so he starts to spin really fast and make a "whoop whoop whoop" noise like in the Three Stooges. Then you turn around to run but your legs just go in circles and the music goes "Wah wwaaaah" because you didn't know he spilled a bag of marbles behind you. He's got you now!

But Swamp Thing? Dude has gills. That is kind of creepy, right? And he has seaweed all over him and I'll tell you one thing - NO ONE likes touching sea weed. Touching sea weed is like when you get to the toilet and someone forgot to flush. You realize that the handle isn't any dirtier than normal but you still only use one finger and make a really weird face when you flush because - seriously who wants to see that?

Come to think of it Swamp Thing does kind of suck. All he does is sit around and try to protect the environment, talk to girls he is never going to score with, have long stringy hair and mess with plants all day.

Swamp Thing = Hippie.

Oh well, I guess after he finally hits rock bottom at a Dave Matthews Band show we can look forward to seeing him on Celebrity Rehab.

Nomina, Ted

Big news here at White-Collar Redneck - I've been nominated for "Funniest Blog" in the 20-Something Bloggers network. Obviously I'm honored that my Mom would take the time to nominate me enough times to get my name on the list. Thanks Momina Nomina!

I realize that with the Democrats crazy huge advertising budget and the liberal media's agenda I will never win - but I've decided to bring in a radical, smoking hot Vice President candidate to excite the base - Elisha Cuthbert.



In other words - a vote for me is a vote for boobies. Blond haired, sexy boobies. I mean your other candidates are Surviving Myself (an old guy) and Your Beard Is Good who is brown. And when was the last time a brown guy won an election? There are other people nominated but some of them are Canadian (gross), a Hater, or any number of other horrible, terrible things.

I was also featured in Cleveland Magazine's Hot Blogs. I assume the Hot thing is mostly because of that picture of Elisha Cuthbert (a vote for Narm is a vote for boobies - is it catching on yet? I'm a maverick). My friends now refer to me as a "Prominent Cleveland Blogger" which is a lot like being called "a loser" but with bigger words.

Here's hoping that all of this showing off distracted you from noticing I didn't write a real post today.

Friday, January 9, 2009

Would Ya Wednesday and the Chamber of Secrets

Get out your magic wand, put on your pointy hat and let me cast a spell on you...

...do roofies count as magic spells?

It's time for Would Ya Wednesday on Friday - The Chamber of Secrets! Ooooooh!

I realize Harry Potter is soooooooo 2006 and that now everyone is talking about Twilight - but I already know all you lady types would do the guy from Twilight. Mostly because my lady friend reminds me day after day after day...

Seriously - do you have to call out his name in bed?

And it was really creepy when I woke up and you were standing over me with a wooden stake. This vampire fetish is starting to weird me out - why can't we dress up in giant Bugs Bunny costumes like I asked?

What were we talking about?

Oh that's right, pedophilia.

You know the rules - I conjure up two pictures and you tell me if you would risk getting hogwarts by getting nuded up and playing quidditch with your privates.

Are they 18? I don't know. Are you the cops? Because I was just coming here to tell Emma that chatting online is dangerous. What is the beer for? Umm, a party...later...that she isn't going to. The condoms? They are for water balloons... The sex swing? It's part of a magic trick...

Abracadabra!

Daniel Radcliffe aka Harry Potter



Emma Watson aka Hermione Granger

Thursday, January 8, 2009

Monday, January 5, 2009

Top 5 Karaoke Weirdos From Saturday Night

5. Metal Guy.

I'm pretty sure you swallowed the mic. And it is called, "head banging" - I'm fairly certain you don't bend at the waste and keep your entire upper-half stiffer than Fred Durst's career. No one saw "Faith" coming when you walked up with your backwards red hat, either Chief.

4. Ex-Theater Major.

We get it. You like to dance, have lots of girls that are 'just friends' and can't get enough of jazz hands. Now go away. No one should have that many choreographed dances prepared.

3. Tone Deaf

Arnold Swarzenegger has more inflection in his voice than you. Unless you are doing The Terminator's version of "Picture" by Sheryl Crow - then bravo, Sir, you nailed it.

2. Commentary Girl.

You are the John Madden of karaoke. Please just sing the song and don't worry about filling every second of time with useless comments. It shouldn't bother me as it is hard to hear you over the voice in my head screaming "STAB HER! STAB HER!" but it is still rather annoying.

1. Whitney Houston Guy.

I have to admit something - your rendition of "I Will Always Love You" kicked ass. But that falsetto thing you have going on made me feel weird inside. You are the 6'3" bastard child of Wayne Brady and Clay Aiken with the mannerisms of Christina Aquilera. And I'm not so sure the townies enjoy Whitney Houston - you are lucky they are still outside beating up Ex-Theater Major.

Heartbreak

There are two things girls will never understand -


1 - What it feels like to get hit in your boy parts. It is kind of like eating White Castle – full of tears, vomit and immediate regret. Also sounds like my prom night.


2 - What it feels like when your favorite sports team loses.


If I were to do a High Fidelity countdown of worst breakups, at least three of them would involve sports teams. A fourth would be when they cancelled Ed. I miss you, Carol Vessey.


Before yesterday, the most recent breakup was when my beloved Cleveland Indians were up 3-1 on the Boston Red Sox and fell apart faster than the Challenger. Boston went on to win the World Series and I went on to rehab. It took me months to get over it. I still have trouble talking about and even had a period where I pretend it never happened. I just wiped that entire season out of my head like so many nights in college after a few too many Natty Lights.


That was my biggest hearthbreak before yesterday - when my favorite team, the Miami Dolphins, completely shit the bed against the Baltimore Ravens.


Before the game my brother and I said, "I don't care if we lose, but let's make it respectable."


Whoops.


So here I am today - holding back tears and listening to Dashboard Confessional. Another heartbreak. Another 8 months of offseason. Another Super Bowl spent drinking way too much and talking about "next year".


Because there is always "next year" in sports. Always another year to be disappointed. Always another year to tell your friends to "watch out" and that your team is a "sleeper" and that even though we lost 27-9 it was "much closer than the score".


In sports, there is always "next year" - but there will never be another Ed.