House of Wachs

WOULD IT HURT TO WRITE ONCE IN A WHILE?

My daughter emailed me this photo. Subject line of the email: a picture of your lover

She takes great pictures that kid, but I could enjoy them just as well without the sass, thanks, young 'un.

Here's Jeff tipping another one of Webb's sneaky off-speed sinkers. Jeff Francoeur was one of the few Braves that Brandon Webb of the D-Bags handled easily today as the Braves win! 7-3. 

The snap was taken with a little Lumix camera because that's all she needed being so close and all. Front row in those new SunTrust Club at Turner Field Seats I got from an immensely supportive manager at work. I believe this birthday was the one in which I lived more like a pasha than any other in Larry Wachs history. It's certainly an upgrade from the dark days of 2006 where I watched a lady drive into a river in upstate NY as we were headed to a funeral on May 26th of that year. At least it was a cool day outside.

And it shattered my streak of bad birthdays in even numbered years as chronicled here. I've even gotten three of the five things I wished for last year.

Readers, make sure you blow out ALLthe candles on YOUR birthday cake. Give a good blow, and don't miss a single one. If all you've got is a cake on your birthday, well, you still have a shot at a better life. This is Larry, of The Regular Guys Show, here to tell you, wishes do come true,  and please help support the fight against birthday candle apathy. Blow them out, not off.

Pateetong!

The SunTrust Club is built in right behind home plate where the camera well used to be. They've replaced it with a restaurant/bar with high quality fresh ingredients and highback cushioned seats. The new section is only 3-4 rows and goes dugout to dugout.  It's as if a big yacht backed into Turner Field somehow. Anything you want, when you want it, brought to your seat, which costs $300 for the evening, so bring a bag next time!

I would seriously consider taking 3 of these seats for my own in lieu of some pay. Think of the savings and perks.

I wouldn't have to pay for a meal at all for 82 days a year.

I'd be sitting with famous and rich people.

The players see you from the on deck circle every at bat for a few weeks and you become like family to them.

Before you know it, Jeff is in the on deck circle, I'm busy making business deals with Turner and Comcast executives, and he shouts, "Hey, Wachs. Let's get some beers after the game."

Well, that impresses the executives so, that the deals are pretty much a matter of signing on the dotted line at that point. Awesomely sweet!

I'm 47, why do you ask?

SAVE YOUR ENERGY

"I invite you to embrace Islam. There are no taxes in Islam, but rather there is a limited Zakaat [alms] totaling 2.5 percent."

-Osama, on his new tape, 9/7/07

Starting to like Osama now, aren't you? Yeah me, too.

I didn't know Islam was such a low tax religion. Now that I think about it, if you don't consider totalitarianism a 100% tax on human life, I guess it is better than the US. It all depends on how unconscious you can will yourself.

---

I finally got to see Vanessa Hudgens nude. It took me 3 visits to websites cowed into submission by the attorneys for "High School Musical" (quite a specialty, I must say), before I found one and downloaded it.

I'm curious under what plausible legal grounds any attorney could cite to have them come down. She's a little slut who voluntarily removed her clothes in front of her boyfriend's camera. She's 18. Well, good news. I have not a pot to piss in. So, bring it attorneys. I have the photo, and I'll be selling it to HOW viewers for just $1.34. That's less than the cost of Islam! Just send me a Paypal with your email address and I'll send you the photo.

Here's a taste.

It's really worth it. Vanessa's exactly what you'd picture in your fantasies. I watched "High School Musical" and I enjoyed it immensely. I like shows where pretty high school age girls move around a lot.

---

Hey, dude! Going to the big environmental concert with Dave Matthews in Piedmont Park tomorrow?  It's the first concert designed to keep people from getting to it, so I'm not going. That's how much I want to see this concept work. I like the idea of people who use 50 times more energy in one day than I do all year, charging me 100 bucks so I can be lectured by them to use less energy. It's a whole new psycho-sexual category. EM! Enviro-Masochism. One day parents will catch their kids in the bathroom pleasuring themselves to pictures of the Amish.

Ooooo, build that barn, baby. Do it without electricity..yeah....you like that don't you?...you...make....it...so...inconvenient....ahhahhaahh...MMMGHHHIIIJJJJKKKLERRRR!!!

Playing it green for concert could swamp MARTA

For weeks, organizers have sent e-mails warning ticket buyers there will be no venue parking available, and newspaper and radio ads include the car-less admonishment. It could result in the busiest day in MARTA's history, considering Saturday's events also include a Georgia Tech football game, a Braves game and a concert at HiFi Buys Amphitheatre.

I wonder how Dave Matthews and the Allman Brothers are getting to the show. Probably walking or biking from their houses, I'll bet. I'll tell you what if you have a ticket. Get there early, because it's gonna be hard to hear the non-amplified instruments past the first two rows. Perhaps someone will hold a cardboard megaphone in front each instrument and singer. That should help.

If people really cared about the environment, someone could bootleg the show, burn it onto a DVD and send it to me. You'd save a lot of gas.

---

One thing you never see is a villian tell Superman or Batman to go fuck themselves. Never. You would think with all that's at stake in their ambitious plans, and as insane as some of them are, they'd have told Superman or Batman to fuck off once or twice. You would think that an arch-villian would have the means to bribe a cop to claim that Superman tried to have sex with him in the men's room, or buy a copy of Photoshop and retouch a photo to make it look like Aquaman was drinking a girl's pee. Say what you will about The Penguin and his ilk, but at least they were gentleman. 

---

Nike makes the worst products in this weekend athlete's opinion. It seems like they'll slap their name on anything that comes out of a Chinese textile mill that pays two chickens a week. I don't think I'm alone. In the Wall St. Journal they chatted up Christopher Vidal, extended adolescence enthusiast and consultant. 

Christopher Vidal has more than 400 pairs of sneakers crowding his New York City apartment. He makes sure to wear each pair -- if only once.

The 34-year-old Mr. Vidal grew up in Brooklyn in the 1980s and became obsessed with skateboarding and street fashion. When he's picking out a pair of sneakers to wear today, he likes to hark back to that period. He says you can't go wrong with a pair of Nike Air Force One basketball shoes that first came out in 1982 and are now hot items among sneaker aficionados. "This is not a comfortable shoe, but it's become a keepsake," Mr. Vidal says.

My Nike golf bag recently broke. I didn't think a golf bag could break, but this one did.

It's hard to steal a golf bag from a store, so I searched all over my house for the PGA Superstore gift card I received at a tournament for "Furthest From the Pin." The non-Nike bag, after gift card, wound up costing me about 42 bucks. It's the next best thing to stealing really, especially for the nifty features they include on the bag. 

Finally, a label telling everyone where my valuables are so they know not to go in there.

---

OK, I'm going to get some rest. Started a new bowling league this Wednesday, so it's a little hectic around here, and Week 1 of Fantasy Football kicks into high gear on Sunday, and I must rest so that my mind can control the players better as I watch them on TV.

LOVE TUGBOAT

Single gentleman. Call me gay now, thank me later.

It is imperative that you bone up on the prices of women's clothing. Whatever you gotta do. Secret subscription to Vogue. Spending time on the toilet with mom's magazines (which can serve double duty if your mom is hip). I don't care. Just learn about what it costs for women to look hot. It's going to be important someday.

"Love your show," says Teen Manager at the ticket booth.

Yes, but it's not on anymore. Maybe he said "loved." A fan's a fan.

"Thank you."

We're in the movie theater lobby before "Knocked Up," the summer's top anti-abortion comedy. It's about this loser who gets a hot chick drunk and pregnant after a one night stand. I don't want to give away the shocking ending, but it basically outlines how women need men more than men need women.

Anyway, the theater was filled with young ladies and their quarry. Wearing the same clothes as all the hot actresses in the movie. It was absolutely insane. Life aping art? Art aping life? It was a big, circular monkeyfest. It was brazen. The women, by agreeing to go this movie, were telling their dates to their faces, "This is how much I'll probably cost. Pay attention."

According to my wife, who has been worth every penny (ass-kisser), "Some of these girls are wearing $1000 worth of clothing, and are not hookers or bankers. These guys have no clue what they are getting themselves into."

$1000? For a Sunday night date with some schlep who works as a ball cleaner at Monkey Joe's whom she met while her little brother had his 4th accidental birthday party? No way! My wife is just saying that so I don't look at them and think about them in the shower. That can't be true. My wife didn't wear expensive stuff when we were dating, and when I say dating, I am, indeed waggling my fingers in an airquote with one hand and a pantomime of slipping a roofie with the other.

After we got home, I went on Google Clothes. Damned if my wife wasn't telling the truth. Based on my research, it wouldn't be a stretch to say that at least half of the teen princesses in that movie palace were canning the goods with at least a grand, sometimes two, on their hills and valleys. And the guys... They were certainly dressed to their income level with Gap crap that fell on the floor during a sale and managed to evade security. Maybe, just maybe, a Banana Republic Outlet item purchased during a family trip to Destin. They really do have no clue what they are getting themselves into.

So, do yourself a favor. If you aren't willing to fuck a woman of character and integrity, and that can be tough without liquor sometimes, then go ahead and know women's clothing lines and what they cost. Use your leverage while you have it.

Now that I've helped you, back to my own moral dillemmas. Here's an email I received today:

Dear Mr.Wachs.

My name is [MALE NAME], I am 15 and attend XXXX. My parents always hated your show when you guys rocked the rock (96 rock) in the mornings, however I loved it. You provided sense and humor and sexuality in your show and made mornings legendary. My best friend and I, XXXX, always listened to you every morning, and even if I had to take a dump, I would not miss a minute of the show. Now that the reminicing is over, I can really tell you something.

It wasn't two days into the first time I heard you guys that I really started looking up to you guys. I realized that one day, I didn't want to be a radio co-host, but I did want to have as much humor and sense like you. I realized I wanted to be like you. My neighbor is XXXXX who is a DJ on XXXXX and me and him talked about you. He said he had met you before and said you were nice people. It was before that moment that I dreamed of meeting you. I still have that dream, is there any way It can be fulfilled?

Your Friend,

XXXX

Certainly you can see the problem. Hey, look up from that copy of Elle for a second. I'm talking to you.

On one hand, the email is very genuine sounding and flattering. On the other hand, it makes me nervous that I could be getting Punk'ed by someone trying to frame me as a lover of young boys. I don't want to be mean, if this is a sincere email, but these days....

OK, here's what I'm going to do. Shine some light. I will respond here, in a public place, to XXXX's email, and everything will be above board.

Hey pal--

Thanks for the email. It was very thoughtful and flattering of you. It would be great to meet you in person because then you can ask me all the questions about the show you want.

Meet me at Ryan's Steakhouse in Alpharetta, Tuesday at 3. After I get off my shift, we can hang and chat for awhile. Cool? Oh, and bring a sleeping bag with you if you want.

Later.

Nice. Problem solved.

Speaking of Punk'ed, I have a great idea for that show, if it's still on, although I don't think they'd have the balls to do it. The person who does this should be inducted to the Comedy Hall of Fame automatically and handed a lifetime contract on Comedy Central.

OK, I'm watching Dr. Kervorkian, fresh out of jail and onto 60 Minutes. A hero's welcome for Dr. Death. They love him over at 60 Minutes because he helped people kill themselves. Great dude.

But Dr. Kervorkian is a little pissed. First, because he's frustrated as he thinks of the money lost by not being allowed to put  Mike Wallace out of his misery right then and there on the interview floor with his hypnotic death stare that he perfected in prison to stave off unwanted lovers.

The other reason Dr. Kervorkian is upset is that he's out on parole, which means....

"I can't talk in detail about the procedure or advocate a procedure, especially with individuals," he explains.

He says he cannot offer counsel to anybody or advise people how to commit suicide. And he cannot be present at a suicide or euthanasia.

So how great would it be to set up Dr. Kervorkian in a mall food court or hotel room or something with hidden cameras, and some actor comes along and pretends to slit his wrists in front of Dr. Kervorkian? The look on his face would be priceless, don't you think?

DARLING, TAKE ME TO SEE PARIS IN THE JAIL

How do you make America fall in love with lesbian prison rape? Sentence Paris Hilton to 45 days in county detention.

Here are some sample comments from a plurality of opinionated web commenters:

Paris is going to be staring in the remake of that old Linda Blair Movie, "Born Innocent" especially the scene where she goes to jail and is raped by a bunch of women with a broom handle.

Best news I've had all fucking year ! I hope they butt fuck her until she... Wait, that won't bother her nasty ass. Maybe they can make that bitch mop a floor !, then shove the handle up her worthless snatch !

(Some year this person is having, huh?) 

The best part will be when paris is bent over with the broomhandle waiting to pierce her rectum and she will look over her shoulder and say the 6 words every celebrity says at one time in their life, "Don't you know who I am???"

I feel hypocritical and that's almost a felony in some states.

On one hand, I hate Paris Hilton and look forward to her spending time with 45 days of low thread counts and infrequent bathing. Yet, I also feel that non-violent prisoners serving a sentence of less than two months should not have the extra burden of being physically victimized tacked on to their confinement. That's like allowing motorists to throw trash at correctional inmates while they are by the side of the road picking up trash, which I do from time to time, but I realize it's wrong for some unknown reason, and I'm going to look into stopping it.

Hmmmm....HMMMMMMM!!! I am very troubled and annoyed at myself for not being able to come up with any moral certitude or self-congratulating stance on this important issue. I must be slipping in my chosen craft.

In times like these I like to give myself the Magic Mind Quiz to reveal my real feelings. The Magic Mind Quiz is a series of discrete yes or no questions that never fail to reveal the quiztaker's true feelings on any subject. You can play, too. OK, clear your mind and hold your calls. Here we go. 

Question 1: Do you hate Paris Hilton?

yes.

Question 2: Did Paris Hilton deserve jail time?

yes.

Question 3: Do you think prison rape as a de facto extra sentence for non-violent offenders is fair punishment?

no.

Question 4: Would it be fair if Paris Hilton were attacked by lesbians in prison?

no.

Question 5: Would it be bad if Paris Hilton were attacked by lesbians in prison?

no.

Hmmmm...HMMMM! Interesting. According to the MMQ lab results, what my mind is saying is that Paris Hilton has been the beneficiary of unfair treatment for so long, that perhaps now it's time for her to "give back to the community" a little.

Slumber, I ride your sleek, winged unicorn at last. 

TO AIR IS HUMAN

Now that the Supreme Court has ruled that  CO₂ gasses are pollutants and must be regulated, how far off until human breathing is subject to collection, measurement and taxation if not outright cessation?

And what about our trees? How will they be able to thrive without the garlicky output of our collective breaths?

Don’t worry. Those masks we will be hooked up to go through what was once our home’s central HVAC, retrofitted by each home owner, of course, with the help of a generous tax credit of 30 cents on the dollar by the omniscient Congress.

The noxious human pollutants will then be collected in a tank and hauled away by municipal gas workers to a central repository where unionized, and therefore, skilled and professional workers will spray the gases onto at risk forests and vegetative sites, targeted by environmental priests for help.

Holman Jenkins, in today’s Wall St. Journal, summed up our new national religion very well:

…it's perhaps sufficient to say that many people believe in manmade global warming because many people believe in manmade global warming; Al Gore believes in it because many people believe in it; many people believe in it because Al Gore believes in it; and so on, right up to the highest court in the land.

Here’s the article about the current climate psience.

(May need subscription)
 

CARVE YOUR ENTHUSIASM

Hey! Happy Valeween's day!

I just got done eating a pound of crabmeat in celebration. It’s not as fun as it sounds.

I love crabmeat, and the prospect of eating my fill always excites me, but I always forget, in my gluttonous zeal, that the crab-onset diarrhea is sure to follow. Must be allergic to something in the crab, but as long as it doesn’t make me itch or sneeze, I’ll continue eating it.

I don’t actually mind diarrhea because it’s easy to get rid of and feels great when it’s done. And, of course, I love farting. Who doesn’t?

I’m celebrating because I just got a new job that I’m very excited about. I’ve been hired by an outfit called “Turkey Lifters.” It’s a great business. What we do is, when a call comes into our offices, we rush out and help the subscriber to our service lift their roasted or fried turkey out of the roasting pan. For an extra charge, we’ll even pour the pan juices into a saucier for gravy preparation.

Turkeys can be very heavy, and some people, particularly hungry seniors, have miscalculated the weight of that hot bird and have been crushed and scalded to death. With the population aging, I think I’m getting in on the ground floor of what I think will be an amazing cash cow. I tell skeptical people that it’s like Geek Squad for poultry, and that usually turns ‘em.

More about my celebration tomorrow, but right now, I want to warn the rude, selfish, and snotty people of Vail, CO, that the Ski Avenger is back in town. If you snowboard, it would be wise to take a break from the slopes this week, because the Ski Avenger has been on quite a roll of late in dealing with hotshot pricks who think they can put one over on Jew Daddy.

The Ski Avenger has vowed to resolve conflict with the overbearing personalities of the Rocky Mountain West in a more mellow fashion this year, but it is difficult to maintain one’s composure where the douchebaggery  exhibits as often as the snow falls. When it comes to self-important assholtion, everyday is a powder day here.

Case in point:

Lunch at the top of the mountain for the world famous Vail Cream of Chicken and Wild Rice Soup. Not only does it look tasty, but it looks the same going down as it does up later on the mountain when the altitude starts to swell the brain.

About 20 oversized picnic tables line the walls inside the two-mile high eatery. Space is at a premium inside because outside, the wind and snow make it hard to hear your cell phone.

WACHS: Hey, fellas. Any room at this table?

VIP Skier: Yes, on the inside of the table. We cannot move down because we are important. We must sit on the end of the table. You must sit on the inside.

WACHS: O.K. We’ll sit on the inside of the table. Thank you.

(Half-hour later)

VIP Skier: Hey could you hand me my jacket hanging on the wall behind you?

WACHS: Oh, you mean the one on the hook on the wall next to the INSIDE of the table? Get it yourself.

End scene, but not really.

This after we had the good fortune of experiencing the world’s first ever real estate deal and, even more exciting, witnessing the use of a cell phone! Admittedly, it would have been more thrilling to watch him use his Bluetooth headset so we could hear him shout the actual dollar figures, but it was still fun.

I don’t hate white people at all, but the ones here make me avoid them for the next two weeks. These are people who think that Tears For Fears is a good band.

I think Old Man Pickle Nose has it just about right. For some reason, many people are under the impression that, because they are on vacation, it means that they are “off.” The normal rules of behavior don’t apply.

Move down so others can sit without climbing all over everyone? Sorry. I’m on break.

Throw away the trash from your lunch? Sorry, I’m on vacation.

Make your adjustments off to the side so you don’t block people getting off the chair? Sorry, I paid a lot of money for this vacation. Send an email to my smartphone.

The Ski Avenger is here people! Shape up, because I can’t hold back much longer.

SPACE AGE ROMANCE, LOW RENT RENDEZVOUS

The story about this killer astronaut chick has been like a fly buzzing around my head all day. Media is more fly-like these days, I've decided. Nervously darting from interest to interest, looking for fresh carcass, stirring up shit, never remembering anything that happened more than a second ago.

In the accused killer astronaut's favor, I have heard from top astronauts such as David Bowie,  Elton John, and Stanley Kubrick that it gets mighty lonely up there and oftentimes our spacepeople see other beings from other galaxies who have a different and, sometimes, superior moral code than ours on Earth, so who's to say violence wasn't the right choice in this case?

If I were her lawyer, I'd claim that ET told her it was the right thing to do. It would outrage many because ET is, after all, a pillar of our society and seemingly unimpeachable due to his tireless emotional appeals for love and unity, but it may work.

Our brains are not as developed as, perhaps, other beings. I read where we only use 4% of our brains on any given day. We're not nearly as advanced as we think. No, as long as this stays between astronauts, we civilians should stay out of it, because it's not "our thing." 

Nowak raced from Houston to Orlando wearing diapers in the car so she wouldn't have to stop to go to the bathroom, authorities said. Astronauts wear diapers during launch and re-entry...

Obviously the woman is nuts, but I've gotta give her some respect on this one. How embarrassing it must be to government officials who must now explain how they spent our tax dollars to train a woman how to diaper herself, so she could drive non-stop to kill the competition for some cock?

So, how good and charitable and saintly do you feel now after seeing the effects of dumbing down entry standards in the military, good-intentioners? I'm sure her government evaluators were in on the fix to characterize her borderline personality as "strong-willed," so that equally nutty and gullible women could join up for the military and send their votes to their pure-hearted benefactor, Senator Lesbian McVictim.

Outside of political gain, women currently have no business being in space. There's simply nothing for them to do.

The woman's big mistake was not doing her deeds up in space. I don't think there are any laws in space yet, so you can do pretty much what you want. The only reason nothing goes wrong up there is that the astronauts are lied to and told that there are laws in space, and that they're going to count the number of astronauts on the way up and if the number coming back doesn't match up, they will be punished. If I'm wrong about this, please show me your source for the official laws of Space, written by someone not named Roddenberry or Wells.

How far do our laws go? Anyone know? Discuss. As far as a rocket can take us? What if someone killed someone a light year away? By the time you hear about it, everybody's dead anyway. It's unenforceable.

What if we get out of the rocket on the moon? Who's call is it? Right now, as you read this, people on the moon are allowed to kill each other, which is why we've seen fewer moon landings of late and no one is currently there. That's why we need to establish before our sworn enemies do, our way of life on the moon. We need to get up there, kill every sentient being we find and start fresh. Because they won't accept our laws of decency and justice. They are lawless. We have no time to waste. The Muslims are almost finished building their giant ladder to the moon.

YOU FOULED OUT, SUCKAH!

Today, for the third time in a few weeks, I saw Hebrew written on the back of a Doraville cop car. Since Jews are not known for graffiti or other acts of vandalism, except for profit, I'm pretty sure the Hebrew lettering was put there on purpose by the Doraville Police. It looked very professionally done, not left to right as so many foolish amateurs and vandals would do.

I don't know what it says. My Hebrew school experience only got me to the point where I can distinguish Hebrew fonts and not mix them up with Arabic or Chinese fonts. I'm also not inclined to ask cops questions about their vehicle or read it when they're in the middle of apprehending a dangerous strip club refugee caught doing 65mph and when I'm doing 85.

I like it whatever it says. Hebrew on a cop car really gives dignity to a group of people who have been portrayed as sniveling little weasels by emasculated poodle males such as Ben Stiller, Woody Allen, and the cast of "Numbers" for far too long. That's why I have officially boycotted CBS' new show "Armed and Famous." Here's one of their press releases:

Celebrity cops hit the streets

Erik Estrada, La Toya Jackson, Jack Osbourne, Jason "Wee-Man" Acuña and Trish Stratus Star In A New Series Which Follows Celebrities As They Become Working Police Officers in Muncie, Indiana.

Notice not a single Jew. Even that intractable, puffy pussy lip, Jack Osbourne gets to represent all the other hopeless offspring of British rockers. Oh, and midgets and lipstick lesbians and Hispanics on a police force? What city doesn't have that these days?

Bottom paragraph in the press release:

ARMED & FAMOUS is produced by Emmy Award winner Tom Forman ("Extreme Makeover: Home Edition"), Jeffrey Kramer ("Ally McBeal") and Michael Braverman ("Jesse Ventura's America") for Tom Forman Prods. and Good TV, Inc.

So I'm pissed at that show and I will boycott it until their JEWISH producers put me on it with Goldberg. I would be the clever, thinking Jew, and Goldberg would be the famous brawny Jew, and we would then get a spinoff series called, "Oy, You're Killing Me," and we would capture criminals and autograph their foreheads with money notation as follows

Wach$ 

Goldberg$$

as our signature crime-fighting move, like Colombo would pretend to be forgetful, and Angela Lansbury would go down on suspects to get them to talk.

In addition to being an anti-Semitic show, "Armed and Famous" is also dangerous and immoral in it's conception.

There is some merit to the theory that celebrity cops can be an asset in apprehending criminals because their fame can disarm the criminal suspect who is a fan. And with literally millions of fans out there, as in the case of LaToya Jackson, who not only has her millions of fans, but also several more millions who mix her up with Michael and Rebbie, most of whom are no more than 2 degrees separated from a real criminal, it's liable to make a real dent in the Newark of the farm belt, Muncie, IN,  much like Truman Capote did to clean up Kansas in the 60s.

However, in the long term, the acceptance of the idea that celebrities can become real cops is risible, and will no doubt be taken to extremes as do all things celebrities touch.

Now that celebrities have invaded poker, for example, you can't have a neighborhood game anymore without some guy arguing that we should use his yacht and he gets to select the whores and who's the sponsor for the hats and sunglasses? and should the $10,000 buy-in include catering? Whatever happened to a nice game of $5 limit with some beer, weed, sandwiches, and VCR porno in the in-law bedroom? Everything celebrities touch becomes complicated, man.

I have no doubt that, if successful, this show will push us all down a slippery slope, at the bottom of which lie Celebrity Only police forces in which normal, anonymous folks who are probably selfless, brave, and low maintenance are pushed out of the business of policing. Cops will give themselves televised awards every March. And say hello to your new drug-sniffing K-9 unit: 

ReganBooks announces the fall 2010 release of the new tell-all book--"Ruff Night" The True Story of Tinkerbell, the Drug-Sniffing Dog. The compelling narrative follows the legendary crime-fighting dog of LAPD Commissioner Paris Hilton as it is admitted to a rehab facility and looks back on it's 25 dog years of social ordering and eating the peanut butter of her mistress.

So let's boycott this ill-conceived, Anti-Semitic, self-hating TV program, "Armed and Famous," lest we wake up one day in the future and read headlines like this:

Shaq chases alleged hit-and-run driver

SHOW ME THE SUNNI

Just one quick note on the shocking and sudden death of the Father of the Mother of all Battles, Saddam Hussein.  I'm really happy that it's been taken care of, but the news of his demise has been strangely unsatisfying. Can we speed up the process a bit? Five days is less than 30, but at this rate, we won't conquer terrorism before the year 5000. Patience is a virtue with an expiration date.

The best that bloodthirsty Americans such as myself can hope for visually, is this cell phone video of the hanging from an Iraqi with the DTs.  It's better than nothing and I kinda like the way they threw gang signs at him and then dropped the floor on him right as he was in the middle of ranting again about how smart he was and he was a victim of deceit and disrespect...blah..blah..blah...then OOOFF! Right as he's about to announce that Judy Regan is publishing his book, "I Didn't Gas the Kurds...But If I Did," one last giant FU to him.

But the rest, except for a couple of seconds of Saddam's blurry face after he dies, still doesn't do the trick. This is what the internet is made for, but it's not gonna work out for democracy if we keep sanitizing events such as this. How will our enemies and the Democrats take us seriously when we sugarcoat even Saddam's death? Let's get the official version up soon. 'Kay? Fantastic.

Sorry. Spoke too soon. Here it is.

Then I googled up this article on what can happen to a dude when he gets hanged. An excerpt:

"I descended immediately into the pit where I found the pulse beating at the rate of 80 to the minute, the wretched man struggling desperately to get his hands and arms free. I came to this conclusion from the intense muscular action in the arms, fore arms and hands, contractions, not continuous but spasmodic, not repeated with any regularity but renewed in different directions and with desperation. From these signs I did not anticipate a placid expression on the face and I regret to say my fears were correct. On removing the white cap about 1 1/2 minutes after the fall I found the eyes starting from the sockets and the tongue protruded, the face exhibiting unmistakable evidence of intense agony."

Now we're talking. I've got that full feeling in my tummy. Why is that so difficult? If I wanted boredom, I'd tune into the Ford ceremonies.

More personal satisfaction comes my way from Mr. John Mainelli, the brilliant program director of 92.3 FREE FM, a CBS Radio station in NY. I'll be on that station from 10p-midnight starting Tuesday night, Jan. 2nd through Friday, Jan. 12th, for two hours each evening of taking calls from the General Public on a wide variety of topics of my own choosing.

It's not enough to shave yet, but it's a start. They have a stream that works, so do tune in. That includes other radio programmers out there who, inexplicably, are on the fence regarding the necessity of Wachs despite all evidence to the contrary.

THE TMGPT INDEX

Couple of bits of business:

First an inquiry into some recent Wachs postings by an adoring fan who goes by the nom de plume, "The Lockemeister."

hey Wachs,

Do you have a thing (obsession) with male genitals? Just wondering. Let's see...the real estate story had a reference, the audio graph had a dong on it, and now the story of the burning nuts. (and I was just going to buy some roasted cashews too, lost my appetite) Just speaking for myself, I really don't think that much of male genitals. I think of boobs and tits a lot, and having sex. Once in a while I think of my package while it's being inserted (in my girlfriend). That's about the extent of the male genitals thought. Were you thinking of male genitals when you were visting Angela Lansbury? No wonder she treated you shabby..you should have said...hey ma'am...I like your style,,,and blue hair...howzabout a romp in the breakroom.. I bet you would have got a huge discount on your choice of pisswater and her phone number too!

OK, first, you are trying way too hard to be humorous and copy what you think I'm about, and it's not working as a result. Also, you have a very tenuous grasp on punctuation, sentence structure, and page layout, making whatever does make some bit of sense, difficult on the eyes to read. The way your undeveloped thought fragments just randomly collide into one another suggest a mind heavily intoxicated if not already on a life support system.

I'm not quite sure what points or connections you were trying to make at the end there as you spun out and went down the embankment. But if I could glean some coherent message from your rambling statement, at the beginning it seems you're trying to imply that I am a homosexual and are concurrently working up the nerve to ask me out on a sex date.

Well, I regret to disappoint you with the news that since I am not a homosexual I must pre-emptively decline your advances toward me.

I think about male genitals about 75% of the time would be my rough estimate. Be aware that this number is only a percentage of the time I spend thinking about any genitals at all, and NOT a percentage of my entire thinking day. Oh, gotten himmel, no! THAT would be gay.

My Total Male Genital Pondering Time (TMGPT) is closer to 75% of all General Genital Pondering Time (GGPT), but only about 5% of my Entire Pondering Day (EPD).

Further, that would correlate to 24% Total Female Genital Pondering Time (TFGPT), and 1% Total Animal Genital Pondering Time (TAGPT)

Got that? Good. Now let's get straight to the heart of the matter. How does the 75% TMGPT break down?

Here:

Thinking about my own--94%

Seeing one in a porno and wondering about God's choices--5%

Hearing a dirty joke about one--.9999%

Other--.0001%

I've also been receiving a couple of complaints about one of my December 4th blogs.

Here's the link.

Here's the answer for those of you who have been saying, "I don't get it. What voice mail are you talking about?" Click on Garrett's picture. That's the link to the audio for the bit, which now works for all who have clicked on it but previously couldn't access the file.