He's All That

After four years of ugly templates and nerdy color schemes, I've finally gone and prettied up the place. I feel like Freddie Prinze Jr. should ask me to prom now - only to find out he had a bet with his friends that he could turn me into the hottest girl in school. I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME FOR ME, FREDDIE PRINZE JR.!

And, honestly, saying that I prettied the place up is a gross overstatement.

Everything you see here was created by the wonderfully talented Sarah over at SillyGrrl. Go read her stuff and then be jealous at the fact that she probably brushes her teeth in a more creative and stylish way than I do anything in my entire life. Oh - and she can write and bake and build web pages and fly (with the help of some trapeze), too. Actually, now that I think about it, I don't like her at all.

But back to what's important: me. The whole blog is new - except the picture of me with the fake mustache that serves as a bow to the gift that is my beautiful face.

So, as I said - everything is new except that picture of me and my shitty writing.

Hope you like the new look. Now go give Sarah all your money so she can make you look cool, too.

With Our Powers Combined

I outlined last week how I love sports.

The individual talents and greatness of the NBA.

The teamwork and chemistry in the NFL.

The beauty and grace of soccer.

The carnage and brutality of mixed martial arts.

Now I found a sport that has them all:

COMBINE DEMOLITION DERBY!

That's right, a demolition derby, with COMBINES.

Do you city kids even know what a combine looks like? It's like a big metal house on wheels. But then fill that house with diesel fuel and anger.



There is no moment in my life that compares to that moment right before the combines ran into each other. It was like an orgasm at Disneyland while eating bacon.

It was like riding a slip'n'slide made out of rainbows naked into a pool of kittens.

It was like eating a pizza covered in boobs after just getting a really good haircut.

It was like redneck heaven.

And the best part about Combine Demolition Derbies? There is no need for a scoreboard. You can easily tell the winner of every match.

Everyone.

Everyone is the winner.

Cuz I'm a Cowboy

* Click to see full size...laaaaaadies

Birds of a Feather

You know who are a bunch of annoying assholes?

Birds.

Seriously. Shut up. You're annoying and I don't like you.

I get the idea of birds. They're pretty and they make cool noises and they poop out seeds that make plants grow all over the place.

And that's all great in the singular case. But when you take one awesome thing and multiply it by a billion, it makes me want to ram a fork in my head and twist my brains around it like so much spaghetti.

I woke up at 5am this morning and there were approximately Too,ooo,ooo,many birds making noise. It was 5am. What the hell are you guys talking about? If you put me in a room with a thousand other people I'd run out of shit to talk about in about 15 minutes - right after we covered the weather and how much I hate Nickelback.

But no, birds are like 19yr old college guys - they just love the sound of their own voice. They were making noise just to make noise. They were so loud I actually learned how to speak bird and translated what they were saying:

SQUAWK SQUAWK I'M AN ANNOYING ASSHOLE.

How can something that is so cool by itself turn into something so annoying when put into large groups?

You'd think they were people, or something.

Footballs of Fire

What do non-sports fans do with their lives?

I mean, we watch 162 Cleveland Indians games, 82 Cleveland Cavaliers games and between our two football teams (Cleveland Browns and Miami Dolphins) another 32 football games.

That is 276 games a year. Or 828 hours. Or 34.5 DAYS of pure sports viewing.

Luckily, with our teams, you don't have to worry about adding any playoff games.

But that is a lot of time wasted on guys wearing tight pants, short shorts and tank tops.

So...what do the rest of you do with your time?

I kind of assume there is a secret club that means during big games. Like the Super Bowl isn't just for sports fans, but also for a collection of the World's brightest and best to gather around and talk about all the classic novels they've been reading and the new exercise routine that makes them look like a Victoria's Secret model.

Well, I don't have time for Victoria's Secret models, damnit, I'm a sports fan.

But before I get to jealous of these secret meetings, I realize how awkward they must be. Without sports, all of the small talk must revolve around the weather and how glad everyone is that it is Friday.

So, how about them Indians?

I'm A Pro

I find it frustrating to hear people complain that they didn't learn anything in college. Or that what they learned is not applicable in the real world. Or that college is a waste of time.

When I look back at college I can't help but think I learned quite possibly the most important lesson of my life:

How to procrastinate.

I use this everyday. Or don't use it everyday, depending on how you look at it.

In fact, I would argue that the single most important skill a person can have in the workplace is procrastinating. Without the ability to put something off until the last minute and then MIND FREAK! that shit into completion - you aren't getting anywhere in life.

And you know where I learned this? Every Thursday morning in college when I would wake up with a pounding hangover and a dirty magazine and realize I had a 12 page paper on sedimentary rocks due in four hours.

Now, when something pops up at work that needs immediate attention, I'm all cool as a cucumber and ready to take charge.

Right after I put down this dirty magazine...

Honest Question

What would be worse:

Wanda Sykes singing Nickelback songs.

Or Nickelback telling Wanda Sykes' jokes.




















Or herpes.