House of Wachs

Time to Find Out What a Fat Guy Wearing a Tuque w/ Ear Flaps Indoors Thinks.

This is my from-now-on-go-to-guy on current events. My mouthbreathing muse and his take on Tiger Woods' apology.

Good thought-provoking stuff, but I'd like to know more about Bill Clinton's pregnancy next time. Thanks.

(The hit count started at 13. Let's see how influential I am as a blogger, 'cause I'm aiming for CPAC 2011!)

THE A**HOLE MYSTIQUE

I’ve had it with the Barack Obama myth.

Geraldine Ferraro had it about right, but she fouled it off. Yeah, Barack Obama is getting ahead of that dear sweet old lady, Hillary Clinton, partly because he’s perceived as black. But, so what? Isn’t that only leveling the playing field when Hillary is working her glass ceiling con?

They both represent grievance groups. The guy from the slave people vs. the lady from Feministicism. It’s a wash.

What Geraldine was trying to say was that Barack Obama is an a**hole. You might say that Hillary is one, too, and you’d be correct. I might add that she’s been an obvious a**hole for many years. What’s really propelling Obama’s rise is not his skin hue, but the fact that most of the public doesn’t realize what an a**hole he is just yet.

All the signs are there. The inexperience. The untenable Marxist ideas. The wife deeply suspicious of whites, and the capper this week, the revelation of the Pat Robertson level reasoning, mouth foaming, brow sweating, America-hating preacher in Obama’s inner circle of advisers. Of course, apologists for such behavior will blame conservatives for making a big deal out of nothing.

“Hey, Obama didn’t say it.” Of course not.  Obama was just watching and occasionally having long private conversations with this virtual stranger. Now, that Mitt Romney… Whoo, boy! THAT was a crazy kinda Christian. You need to look into that Mormonism. I believe they take several wives at a time, they do.

Jimmy Carter was a jerk who got lucky by following a slimy Republican and running against a statue who pardoned the slimy Republican. He was folksy and southern, and America’s lefties, feeling guilty for treating the ancestors of slave-holding crackers in such disregard for years, felt obliged to help the South rehab itself  by encouraging the folksy, New South Carter into high office. Problem was, Carter disliked Jews and was a coward in the face of dictators. It wasn’t until he was in office and scolding America for not wearing sweaters that America figured out what an a**hole he was.

Obama is an a**hole whose time will come soon enough, so let’s set that aside and inspect the aftermath of an a**hole whose time has come and gone.

The Governor who wanted to be an Emperor, Elliot Spitzer, made the quickest exit from public life since Bud Dwyer, but I think The Spitz will be plenty OK after all this dies down. Fans of injustice will recall that, before he was Attorney General and Governor of NY, he was well known by many to be a plain a**hole  with money. Now that he's back to being a plain a**hole with money,  I'm sure the adjustment won't be so difficult for him.

Ms. Ashley Dupre, fresh from allowing Mr. Spitzer to give her an exit poll, has left Manhattan what with the media hounding her because they are outraged she's taken jobs from illegal Mexicans and Koreans.

She will now calmly and rationally, with her team of porn advisors,  ponder the many career offers that are pouring in from oil companies, think tanks, the military, research laboratories, Microsoft, Google, and Bill Clinton.

She's gonna be OK in life. Her problems are over. Now, she'll earn enough to keep her in clubs, drugs, and 24-hour diners until she reaches her expected life span of 37. Besides, no one I know disputes that her pop single is a monster #1 hit, so she's got some back up cash in case a protracted bidding war heats up between Saudi princes and hedge fund managers.

Remember her philosophy as summed up in her pithy MySpace page maxim. "What destroys me, strengthens me." How true. Who amongst us doesn’t gain strength from being destroyed? Look at Elvis. Falling off a toilet seat to his death was about the wisest decision he ever made.

So whether it’s the rap desperadoes she hangs out with who eventually manage to go through all her money, or the GNP of Peru that turns her vascular system into a human Ganges, Ashley Alexandra Dupre Youmans Romo is made from the stuff of survival. No, don't cry for her, America.

But has anyone given any thought during this mess to how all this must make Ashley's cousin feel? It must be torture being the cousin of a high dollar prostitute. All those years of, "I want to, but I can't" has now suddenly become "I EASILY COULD HAVE!!!" (groan)

Tough break, kid. But look at the bright side. If no relative made those late night visits to sis' room, America would still be without it's first blind governor. You can't argue with progress, even when it seems like it's dirty and illegal.

SOME TIME FOR REMARKS

There was Michelle Obama on TV, boldly telling America that she was proud of us for the first time and that saying her husband's middle name of "Hussein" is off limits. Bitch, who do you think you are?

Why can't Barack Hussein Osama control his wife? Why can't Bill Clinton?  My wife decides to start her own morning show after I'm done? BAM!

Another entitlement junkie we got here with this Obama chick. She's learned nothing from the fall of Hillary the Inevitable.

Insinuating that Barack Obama has ties to our enemies by publicly saying his middle name "Hussein," is off limits. However, insinuating that John McCain had an affair with lobbyists, and may not be eligible for the presidency because he was born in Panama is fair game.

And what's the penalty for not obeying? A scolding from people I intensely dislike?

After careful consideration, I have decided to continue my referring to Barack Obama as "Hussein Osama." Oh, it'll be rough withstanding the mocking and withering stares of people who are scared of Democrats, but I think I'll be able to pull through.

Is this how Obama would handle international affairs? Will he scold our enemies for not playing fair with nothing to back it up?

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I also sat in wonderment and some embarrassment as one of Clinton Racing's top drivers, John Lewis of GA, pulled some Shake and Bake by announcing he was going to throw his Superdelegate cape over Barack Obama.

Even the reporter was astonished at his assertion that changing allegiances from the Clintons was harder than walking in protest at Selma, AL in the 60s.

What a remarkable statement he's making. Walking over a bridge in the 1960s in Alabama knowing you will get your ass kicked by the force of law, is easier than screwing over the Clintons? I would think just the opposite.

Does that mean the Clintons are meaner than the crackers who bashed in Lewis' head in the 60s in Alabama?

God help John Lewis if the Clinton's somehow win.

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The glorious news is that Jamie-Lynn Spears, known as 'the normal Spears' on account of her only being pregnant at 16, has passed her GED. That's Grade Equivalency Diploma for people in Roswell. At least the grad party was top shelf with all the GEDers getting it on courtesy of their ultra cool parents with their condoms at the ready.

My money was on STD or IUD before GED. Despite this setback, I'm going to wager that DVD is in her future.

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I heard overheard two classics this weekend.

At a dull party with good food several nights ago, (WTF has "couples showers?" That is way beyond what decent society requires.) I sat with the other men who didn't want to be there while we smoked and ate and talked about war and golf while staring at "Wedding Crashers" on TBS.

The scene on the screen during a lull in conversation was a montage of Vince Vaughn and his buddy Owen Wilson making out with all these chicks they meet at weddings.

A 75-year old guy said to me, "They're just bangin' everybody, aren't they?"

Yes, they are. Classic.

The other one was with Southside Steve on the golf course. Steve was bitching about how Eric always mocks him and he was particularly harsh the other day during one of his many mistakes. He said he felt like he was a Jew being brought to the showers by the constant persecution of Eric the Nazi, but it came out like this:

"I felt like a Jewish person being dragged into the bathrooms."

Classic.

LARRY THE KING

OK, fuck it. I changed my mind. Man's prerogative. My last post brought nothing but negative reaction and embarrassment. Burger King brought back the Whopper.

I will post when I get the chance, and right now I have the chance. Rejoice.

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In Whole Foods I saw a magazine with big fat Paula Deen on the cover. What is healthy about her cooking? Organic lard?

Why is it that Whole Foods doesn't carry People Magazine at their checkout stands? What religion are they running in there that gossip and humor are in the same category as trans-fats?

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Everytime I jog past this one house in my neighborhood, a crazed poodle (I think it's Korean owned which explains the neuroses) leaps out of the bushes and acts like an asshole toward me. It can't go very far or else it's electronic collar zaps it. Ethically, I have no problem teasing the dog so it shocks itself over and over again until it learns. Get some manners crazy poodle!

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On the news, I heard a reporter give the grim story of how an inner city youth named DeAnthony was killed in some inner city mischief. I can't help but think that his name had a little something to do with the fact that he was DeAnthonized. When you name your kid in the negative such as DeAnthony, or UnShawn, or Nochelle, you have to understand that you are putting a target on their back. Henceforth, I am calling my daughter, Proretha.

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At the QT one recent morning:

CLERK: 53 cents is your change. Come on back.

He left the register to go to the back room of the store, so I followed him. Maybe I won a prize for being a polite customer.

CLERK: WTF are you doing back here?

ME: You told me to come back.

Turns out that's what they tell people to make them return to the store in the future.

We had a good laugh about the mix-up and he invited me to sit on the milk crates with him and look at a copy of Juggs magazine he stole from the rack up front.

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Police station cars outside of bars on the theory that dangerous drivers will be leaving the parking lots late at night. That may be true, but my experience of late is that more dangerous drivers are leaving hospitals than bars and nightclubs. Twice in the past two weeks, I've swerved to avoid women crying as they leave the hospital. God knows what goes on in there, but it makes them lose control of themselves. Women, disease, driving. That's a deadly cocktail, friends.

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Hey, Gator fans who get Georgia plates with the Gator logo. I'm buying a pack of Sharpies to keep in the car. Just lettin' ya know. Isn't it enough that you steal our water? You want a Florida tag? Move to GODDAM FLORIDA!!!

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Billy Ray Cyrus recently apologized for his daughter, Hannah Montana, not wearing seatbelts in her movie...in 3D yet!!! I appreciate the sentiment, but I can handle this.

Well, Daddy. Hannah Montana doesn't wear seat belts. (LOUD BELT NOISE ON KID'S ASS)

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Here's a photo of Gary Coleman getting married.

Gross!

The gays must be really pissed. It's really rubbing their noses in it when this marriage can occur but their's cannot.

KIND NEWS NUGS

I have witnessed this countless times. Someone on TV, or at a gathering, will refer to black Africans--people living in Africa, never set foot on our soil--as African-Americans.

On a parallel correctness track, there are all those people who have looked at me like I'm an idiot when I've referred to white people from Africa who live here now as African-Americans.

Here's a variation on that old nugget. In Maryland, the governor has proposed a special driver's license for illegals. From the report:

Undocumented immigrants would not be able to use their license to board airplanes, enter federal buildings, or cross borders.

Ummm...wouldn't having a driver's license make them documented immigrants? Undocumented has now completely replaced illegal in the English language for Impractical-Americans from every country.

Oh, it's also a dipshit idea. We'll make it so you can drive amongst us in a vehicle made of ladders, but don't do something dangerous like go back to Mexico or enter government buildings. Oh, OK.

Mark this day on your calendars. January 15th, 2008. The day a local sports team has done something correct and pleasing for the first time since 1998.

The Braves' AAA team is moving from Richmond to Gwinnett County for the 2009 season. It makes too much sense. I won't believe it until I see the stadium rise from Sugarloaf Parkway.

AAA baseball was where I caught my first professional foul ball on a 30 degree April night in Rochester in the 1980s. In fact, I got two that night. There were only 27 people there, and I think everyone else got three, so it wasn't the thrill I'd thought it'd be. Still, I have never caught one in a major league park.

Minor league baseball is affordable and intimate. The security hangups are few. You see the talked about stars of the next few years, and, in this case, don't have to live in a shitty town where eating at Chipotle is exotic. Best of all, Braves fans don't have to drive 28 miles in tremendously frustrating traffic and low level APD flunkies with their ever-changing rules on parking, and then walk through poverty's laboratory to get to the game.

Good job, Braves. It makes up for the hell you helped make of my life while working for Clear Channel.

I heard a commercial on the radio for Lifelock. I'm not familiar with the product, but it's supposed to protect you against identity theft, according to the ad. Rush Limbaugh even endorses it and says it guarantees your identity will be safe from predators or you get $1 million if Lifelock fails you.

It sounds good, but here's the catch as I see it. Who gets the $1 million dollars? Wachs or the person who's pretending to be Wachs? Because if my identity is breached, there's nowhere I can deposit the check. Do they hand you a suitcase full of bills?

Here's Bill Clinton giving a speech surrounded by teen girls. Well, they keep giving pills to Britney. What could go wrong?

Did he let an SBD or did he mind rape her?

"It's hot in here," he says. So take off all your clothes. Everybody's thinking it. Smooth.

Then he turns around and asks the teens if THEY have any questions about middle class tax cuts. It just so happens that's what Jeri with the cute top and shiny dirty blonde hair is thinking about these days. Bill cares. It's getting REAL hot in here. And if you can't stand it, GET OUT!

Where did Nurse Chelsea take the girl, and what are they doing with the Chelster in the campaign? She's not allowed to speak to anyone, but she's always around.

Depending on their perception of how they are polling with the American public, I think the Clintons have something up their sleeve, and will use her as a key prop in some unconscionable stunt that will place the nation's pity on that poor, grieving, close knit family, the Clintons, and make them king and queen once again. Chelsea will be the South Park Kenny.

Don't ask me what exactly is going to happen. It's just a hunch. Maybe they'll release Hinckley for a few days to take some pot shots at her and highlight the flaws in the 2nd amendment. Maybe she'll slip on some meat and hit her head to point out the flaws of free market health care. Maybe they'll just stick her on a MARTA train that breaks down for hours with no A/C in a scary neighborhood to point out the need for more public transport funding. I don't know. But she's there for a reason.

Good night and great news.

THE UPSIDE TO DUI

Just got back from a mission in St. Maarten, where George Stein and I go once a year to teach Judaism to the poverty stricken natives. If you're ever there, and see kids walking around in their copyright infringing ghetto wear and yarmulkes...that's our work. George and I are committed to getting the island's first synagogue up and running by next Yom Kippur. Please. Donate.

We stayed, of course, in George's modest home on the French Side.

Where crazy-eyed French-speaking guard cats prowl the premises and take no prisoners.

I bought this print for my wife out of love, and guilt that she wasn't on the trip.

Let me first acknowledge that it's a really lousy painting. It doesn't lift an emotional finger whatsoever. It's a painting with utterly no passion. Devoid of any inspirational markers. Revealing of no influences or perspectives.  It's not even good enough to be a children's picture despite the inherently low standards of children.

That's a wave in the middle. Not a seagull. They don't have seagulls down there, which is a bit of a shame since I like chucking rocks at them. But the beach is not rocky, but powdery, so it's just as well.

I paid $36 bucks for it because it happens to be a painting of an island on which I got it on with my wife during our honeymoon.

I persuaded her to go to the titty beach, which is so romantic and not creepy, coercing your new bride to go look at flabby old nude couples from Europe show off their raisins.

Well, I got aroused anyway. It wasn't the nudity, because much of it was the unfortunate kind. It was the idea of being able to run around completely nude in front of people and no one cared or laughed. It's as close to being invisible as one can get. It got me really excited.

Since nudity and not porno was allowed on the beach, we waved down a boat driven by a native with a giant package. For a small fee, he ferried us to the island in the picture above, about a minute away, where we went behind a rock ( on the right hand side) and got it on. Man, that was great.

Over the years, I never thought my wife could possibly have enjoyed it as much as me because it really is a man's pirate fantasy, and because I kept slamming her hip into the rock with every thrust, so she must have been banged into that rock about 4 times! Ouch!

My suspicions were confirmed, I'm sad to report upon my arrival. My wife hates the painting. I felt so terrible. And she made a wonderful warm bowl of cabbage soup for me, too for my arrival back into the colder weather of reality. She promised to hang it in our beach house when we get one, which is not looking all that good right now.

I might ask my Dad if I can put it in his beachfront mausoleum. That's class. Putting a print of where you first boned your wife in your parent's home.

Another busy week of What's Your Story? coming up, so I'm gonna go and look busy and sift through the week's parade of newsism, now.

ZOEY 102

Boyfriend of pregnant teen Jamie Lynn Spears could face statutory rape charges.

"It's your dick in a box!"

There they are. The puppy lovers in the doghouse. I'd name the kid Jesus, with it being the most controversial pregnancy since.

This dude will never be able to get it up anytime soon. He'll have flashbacks like he was in a Vietnamese Prisoner of Sex Camp. He may be the Tony Conigliaro of sex.

Why wasn't this the cover of NOT OK! Magazine?

I had a discussion with a doody head today who's outraged, not that Jamie Lynn was pregnant, but that people would be outraged by Jamie Lynn being pregnant.

"Big deal. Why don't they go after drug dealers?" They don't anymore? Sweet.

If that's the position any of you chuckleheads are thinking about taking in your quest to be the go to guy in the office for opinions on popular culture, here's the upside. Most people will think you are spelunking minors yourself. Not all. Just most. Careful there, Maverick.

And since when did people who advocate a laissez faire approach to statutory rape suddenly become anti-drug warriors?

Say no to drugs, but yes to Ashley. Do I have that right? 

OOPS! AGAIN

Britney Spears' 16-year old sister is knocked up. Words fail. Let me gather myself.

Lynne Spears, already grandmother to Britney's young sons, says: "I didn't believe it because Jamie Lynn's always been so conscientious. She's never late for her curfew."

How about her period? Any opinion on that?

There's your problem source right there. The mom who is under the impression that kids won't screw before 10pm. Then she wonders why her daughters treat their parts like a Greek diner.

OK, enough. I'm saving the rest of my comments for this week's year-end episode of What's Your Story taping tomorrow and streaming on Friday.

"So if you shave your head, I have to get pregnant?"

HURRY UP AND SCREW! SCREW UP AND HURRY!

Here's a story about a 29-year old grandmother in Quad Cities, IA....the person on the right....uhhh, I think.

Look, I'm all in favor of helping cruel stereotyping disappear from our society, but come on, folks. Help out a little, would ya?  What? You have a lake of semen in the backyard?

Russell Eugene is 1 day old.

His mother is 15.

She fidgets with a bottle of milk as she talks.

Then, sitting up straighter in bed, she asks, “When do you think I can play basketball again? I want to go out for the team at school.”

Oy vey!

New vocabulary word: NEVER. It means, "not ever."

Back at home with her mother and brothers, Celia — wearing pajamas and a do-rag that covers her hair — holds the baby. Her tank top shows off two black tattoos on her arms.

One, which winds down her forearm, reads “Tish,” her mom’s nickname. Another, below her shoulder, reads “Manica Magee,” which is the teen’s rap name.

Leticia told the girl she could get inked if she kept her grades up. They went to Chicago to get it done.

“She earned them,” Leticia said, nodding her head.

It's like watching the Munsters where everything horrific is perfectly normal.

"Oh, Herman. Eddie got a D in math, so I let him dig up the graveyard. Isn't that wonderful?"

"HAWHAWHAW...Lilly, that boy is a chip off the old slab...HAWAHAWHAWHAW."

(house shakes, ceiling tiles and dust fall, never to be replaced)

ABSTAINING FROM LOGIC

Here's a nice and stupid headline:

Report: Abstinence programs don't work

Yeah, they do. How does this idea get published? Not doing something results in more of the activity?  Try it sometime. See how many chicks you get preggers when you don't have sex with them. I'm interested.

Of course a program doesn't work if people aren't sticking with it. It's not the program's fault. Do these social scientists blame the treadmill for not being trod upon when someone is obese?

The study found that while abstinence-only efforts appear to have little positive impact, more comprehensive sex education programs were having "positive outcomes" including teenagers "delaying the initiation of sex, reducing the frequency of sex, reducing the number of sexual partners and increasing condom or contraceptive use."

Oy vey! The elusiveness of simplicity. When you give people something for free, they will use more of it. And the more people engage in an activity, the better the odds that something will go awry.

Think of sex as donut holes instead. If the newspaper said, "People eating less holes," you'd rightly conclude that the culprit for this was abstinence from eating donut holes.

And if some expert said, "Well, the reason people are eating less holes is because the government is giving them free liposuction," you'd think him batshit.

Abstinence works. Ya just gotta do it. Or not do it...whatever.

UM.....NOW WHAT?

Genarlow Wilson is free...to do what now?  What exactly are we celebrating?

He was convicted and sentenced to 10 years in prison for having oral sex with a 15 year-old. He was a minor, too, so according to the prevailing winds, that makes it OK.  Served three years before the bleeding hearts and his attorney named BJ got him out.

Do you think he'll be getting anymore blow jobs from anyone under 18 from now on? It's hard to say. The only real lesson he's seemed to draw from this is that a justice system that seeks to protect naive minors from sexual predation is one to be ridiculed.

What message are the 15 year old girls getting from this outcome? Reporters aren't asking. They are too busy celebrating this great victory over morality.

The news media has framed this case as that of a young black man unfairly hassled by a backward Christian view of morality imposed on all of us forward thinkers, by a troglodyte state that is embarrassing to live in because it's not enlightened like NY and California, places where the cost of living is low, the air is clean, and everyone gets along.

From the AJC:

Wilson, who served nearly three years of a 10-year sentence, may be the most extreme example of a teenager entrapped by the state's regressive sex laws.

As opposed to the progressive sex laws that they have in North Utopia where anyone with pubic hair can partake of sex without any consequence. I've gotta update my Garmin because I can't find it on these maps.

Is it of the Dark Ages to create obstacles for males to get blow jobs from 15 year old girls? 

But Wilson is not the only young offender caught in a maze of draconian sex laws. Many young people are trapped on the state sex offender registry for nonviolent and consensual sex acts as teens.

Kind of a shot in the dark, but wasn't the sex offender registry voted into federal law by almost unanimous margins in both houses of Congress and signed by the President in 1996? Wasn't there ample time to put in a provision to excuse minor horny teens such as Genarlow? We had a president who could empathize.

According to your liberal reporter, our sex laws are not just regressive, but  "draconian," too. Let's make a sentence out of that view but substitute regressive and draconian with their synonyms. Repeat after me.

It is backward and excessive to punish minors for having sex with 15 year olds.

What do you think? Put your politics to the side. I don't care what party you belong to. It's not relevant.

Do you feel comfortable about having your 15 year old give blow jobs? What progress is going to come of that? That's how you got your high-paying job, right?

I've seen the cool and non-confrontational parents hand out the birth control devices. The results have been uniformly awful.

It's just basic. It doesn't take a degree. You could be getting lucky behind the school in lieu of attending class and still understand this. The more a behavior is subsidized, the more of it there will be. In practical terms, giving a birth control device to a minor is also giving them permission to do it more. Go to Vegas and see what your odds of losing are the more you play.

Contrary to pop belief, adulthood is not conferred on minors by encouraging risky behaviors as physical maturity approaches. Adulthood is achieved by learning the art of restraint and self-control. Picking your moments and knowing there will be plenty of chances to shine.

I'm going to side with Draco on this one.

SLEEPLESS IN AMERICA

House of Wachs campaign correspondent Pete Davis emailed us exclusive video of Fred Thompson's wife's ass.

Pete files this report:

Had insomnia today so I ambled over to the Fred Thompson visit in Kennesaw this morning. Was planning to use my phone to video the event, but when I got home, all that was on it was pics of his hotass 18 year old wife in a form-hugging dress. You could hear him talking but all you could see was her, and at one point when I zoomed in the dj started playing some porn-type music on the speakers.

She was the highlight of the day.

Good work, Pete. Now go get some well-deserved shut-eye, buddy.

I wasn't aware of Fred Thompson's wife until this video, and she sure does look attractive.

The sexiness of a potential First Lady is a very important consideration to many voters because, as you know, every year at Christmas, the President traditionally makes a list of the people whom he will pardon and the people who will get to tag the First Lady for an hour.

Also, the First Lady of the US is the closest we'll ever get to having a real queen in this country, which is vital to keeping us competitive with England.

Personally, I've been leaning Giuliani. But now? I don't know. It's a toss-up. Hey, baby. You and Fred want to meet some "swing" voters?

Don't forget, if you have important news videos like this, send them to: WHATSYOURSTORY@SUPERDELUXE.COM

BEDWARDS

The rumors are swirling here at Hate Central that Democrat presidential candidate John Edwards may have had sex with a lady who is not his lovely and cancer-stricken lovely wife, Elizabeth.

On one hand he is a cute, well-groomed man who cares deeply for people and his wife and has a down home southern drawl, just like many automobile salesman and golf pros. It's not a stretch to say he would be attractive to many perky young women.

But on the other hand Ann Coulter once called him a faggot.

....and he responded vigorously...

....and Lord knows there is nothing queer at all about vigorously calling someone a "she-devil" behind their back.

Then his lovely cancer-stricken lovely wife called Ann up to give her heck....

....which is how most heterosexuals would allow it to be handled.

So do I think he had an affair? Yes. But there is a good chance he had the affair with a man.

Anyway, it won't hurt his chances. Newt did the same thing, and it worked out great for him.

THIS STORY IS NOT FUNNY

So, why is everyone laughing?

If I may....

The concept that a 1-minute news story can pack so many cliched human failings into it's slender self is mind-boggling. I'm sure if I counted, there are at least 10 places where I could say "This is my favorite part."

It's really like listening to a good pop song like "Eye of the Tiger." There are so many cool parts to that one, such as  "DUT DUT DUT (Blubblubblubblubblub) DUT DUT DUT.....DOOOOOMMMMMM!"

"He got them drunk. He got them high, and he took advantage of that situation."

"DUT DUT DUT (Blubblubblubblubblub) DUT DUT DUT.....DOOOOOMMMMMM!"

"Investigators found that cellphone in his trailer along with 20 used condoms they think he was keeping as souvenirs."

"DUT DUT DUT (Blubblubblubblubblub) DUT DUT DUT.....DOOOOOMMMMMM!"

"It shouldn't have happened to none of these kids. He needs to be hung."

"DUT DUT DUT (Blubblubblubblubblub) DUT DUT DUT.....DOOOOOMMMMMM!"

It's the eye of the tiger, it's the cream of the fight

Risin' up to the challenge of our rival

And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night

And he's watchin' us all in the eye of the tiger

Bravo, Action News Channel Team. Emmy!

W.I.C. THEATER

Did you see Britney Spears big comeback on the MTV DUI Awards last night? Talk about re-invention! She lip-synced to her new record, "Gimme More," which is the harrowing fable of a young woman who desires as much of the male sex organ as possible, no matter the cost. How fresh! The dead, soulless, cry for help eyes were a nice twist, I thought, and her groggy dancing evoked a tableau of the final minutes of a wonderful romantic evening between a young lady and a stranger with  20 dollar bills in an IGA Supermarket parking lot at 4:47am on a Sunday.

I really liked the part where Harvey Keitel came out dressed as Sport, and told her how much she made him feel like a man while he stroked her hair with his special cocaine finger nail.

But I think Sarah Silverman was mean with her comments. There are children involved, Sarah. Little tiny bastard mongrel children with bright futures if comedians would just stop heckling them for a second.

Let's play a fun game. Can you tell which is Britney out of all these Craigslist prostitutes?

First prize is a nude of Vanessa Hudgens. So is second prize. And third. Get your guess on. Hurry!

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.

RUNNIN' WILD, LOOKIN' PRETTY

Jesus Hiram Christ! Would you look at that?

How can you sentence that to jail?

That's Heather Lyn Johnston (stripper name: Charli) pleading guilty in court today. She and her puffy friend, whose name I don't recall because she was not the attractive one and should get jail time in my opinion, caused a national stir in February when they robbed a bank in Acworth, which is unusual for teenage females, and all the media but me dubbed them the Barbie Bandits.

What will her sentence be? I'd be lenient since there was a chance she was simply  looking for quarters to bounce off her tight belly. I'd have given her community servicing. Free lap dances for the privileged. Why should the homeless always benefit from crime? They have no money in that bank.

Envious that we've gotten our underage bank robbing problem under control here in the 'burbs, Atlanta sexpert and mayor, Shirley-Girl Franklin, continues to insist that Atlanta is teeming with "children" running around as hookers, and Craigslist is the culprit. It's all right here on the front page of today's AJC, the paper with the massage parlor ads in the sports section. Why would they lie? It's not like Craigslist is destroying their classified ad business model or anything.

Let's take a look at the evidence that has been gathered.

Atlanta Investigator Thurman said the vice squad goes to craigslist.org to arrange stings. Police go to the site, arrange to meet a man at a hotel and arrest the man when he arrives, Thurman said.

Excellent reporting. Child hookers ARE on Craigslist, even though they are imaginary and put up by the Atlanta Police.

As a citizen journalist, I feel that it's my job to finish up where the AJC, owned by a billion dollar company and therefore lacking the resources needed to investigate further, has brilliantly left off.

Here are some of the whares currently for sale on Craigslist.

An ad for NEW TO THE CITY THICK AND PRETTY...18!!

I counted the rings on her bottom and came up with 17. I'm not buying it..even with your credit card.

RULING: Child.

This ad for HOT*******SEXY******EROTIC "claims" she is 24.

She is in a bubble bath, which children enjoy immensely....But, what's this?

A beverage by the tub. Children love bubble baths, but they don't drink alcohol. Therefore, this must be fruit juice.

RULING: Child.

Next up: ***CUMM PLAY WITH ME IN MY NAUGHTY SCHOOLGIRL OUTFIT**** AGE 24

Marist? Greater Atlanta Christian? She clearly has a uniform and the look of someone from a family of privilege who can afford a school of such educational outer and underwear. After sitting in the parking lot of every Atlanta school at which the girls wear these outfits, I came up with several matches.

RULING: schoolchild

Here's an ad for KISSABLE NICE LIPS AND OBESE AS A WHALE...I KNOW WHAT MEN LIKE!!!

RULING: There's definitely a child in her belly. The Mayor wasn't exaggerating...I mean, eXXXaggerating.

Great work, everyone. Now the mayor can concentrate on investigating complaints that Craiglist has ads for people looking for work who claim to be legal citizens? Is anyone buying that?

WACHS BEACH DIARIES '07--CHAPTER 6

I get very little rest when I come to the beach, what with all the activities plus the putting together of the Wachs Beach Diaries, and for that reason alone, I look forward to driving back to Atlanta for 11 straight hours with my daughter's non-stop Mika tunes on CD, just to be able to sleep in my own bed for 8 straight without the aid of slumber enhancers and anti-inflammatories. We do that tomorrow. Actually later this morning.

I was all set for another restless night, when a knock came at the door. It was my mom's friend, Miriam, whom I'd promised to take to the new porn store across the street. I had forgotten. My mom would kill me for teasing her. And she was all ready to go with her cute little incognito outfit and strong odor of alcohol.

And although I'll remain a little sleepy for the folks along I-85 tomorrow, it was worth it. Here are some photos from our fun time together.

She bought my dad a gift. A thing that looked like a lighter, but when you pushed the button down a small penis popped out. Miriam thought it was a real lighter at first until the Romanian clerk explained to her.

"No, no. Ees no lightair. Ess jus a deeck. See?" And he flicked the joke penis in her face a couple of times. What a nice man.

So we bought it, and the penis broke after one use. Ten dollars. One laugh. My mom swore she would take the thing back and get a refund as soon as she found the broken penis. Try sleeping with that in mind.

WACHS BEACH DIARIES '07--CHAPTER 2

Welp, it's 07-07-07. And that means...jack.

We're in the car headed for dinner. My mother's phone plays "From a Distance" by Bette Midler. It represents how she sleeps with my dad, who snores poorly and eats smelly food often.

"I think it's embarrassing to have a ringsong on your phone past age 20, Ma."

"I have a song on MY phone," my wife says in rescue of my mother from my outrageous attack on the way her cell phone rolls.

"Well, that's because you're a retard, honey." I patiently explain. And a kiss ass, but I didn't say that to spare her feelings. 

"But I like Bette Midler, Larry"

"OK, but think about this, mother. If you put your favorite song on your cell phone, in this case, "From a Distance," you have to interrupt it's groove to answer the call. Isn't that an incentive NOT to answer your phone in a timely fashion?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Nothing. Logic. Never mind. Answer the call. It's the second verse already."

It was my mom's friend from the condo, Miriam, who wanted to know where we were headed for dinner this evening. My parents are in all their glory when we show up. Everyone wants to know what they're up to.They get treated like celebrities, mainly due to the fact that my parents are still in their 60s, making them a hot young couple, and they don't purchase oxygen off that truck that roams the zip code and plays the theme from "The Sting." But when we're in town, their status goes up a few more notches. That's because my brother's a doctor, my sister married well, and they think I'm still on the radio because they don't remember so well and I lie about it to save time.

We pass by Ocean City, MD's first ever sex shop, boldly advertising Jenna Jameson rubber parts, DVDs, and anatomically correct mannequins showing off their bedroom fashion sense in front of a backdrop of tinfoil, just like in your bedroom. It's next to the KFC/Taco Bell, and the OLD PRO mini golf center, in the exact strip mall space where I used to play pinball games, and really sticks out amongst all the family shlock that lines Coastal Highway, which, for all it's years has had nothing racier than Big Pecker's Bar and Grill. 

15 years ago, some genius tried to get a lap dance club going here. Maryland's liquor laws forbade any sort of nudity with liquor, so the business plan was built on the premise that men, just coming off the beach, would pay top dollar to buy beer from cranky, less attractive women in full bathing attire. My plan would have included arson. 

"When did Ocean City get a porno store, folks?"

"Oh, you know who wants to go there? My friend, Miriam. Call her. She'd be thrilled if you took her."

The thought of her pastel peach nails wrapped around an adult novelty....purr. 

My mom handed me her Midlerized phone and I called Miriam and asked her out to visit the porno store. Her husband wouldn't take her and she didn't want to go alone. I'm doing a good deed. What would the Boy Scouts do? We always hear about how they help old women across the street, but they never say to where the old ladies are going. Probably to save embarrassment as the odds are strong that Boy Scouts in the past have escorted the elderly into porn shops that stand tantalizingly across the street from the old person's location. 

We haven't set a day yet, but I am certain it will be during a heavy storm. 

SCIENCE!

How is it that it takes a film studio about 3 hours after a premiere to determine whether a movie stays or goes, a TV network knows within 3 weeks the fate of their new programs, but it takes a radio company 3 years and then maybe just one more quarter to determine whether something DOA will suddenly catch fire? The head. It is on auto-shake.

If that is not enough necksercise for you, CSPI, the Center for Science in the Public Interest, the research and development arm of the Center for Cash Hungry Attorneys With No Discernible Plaintiffs has successfully threatened Kellogg's to back off of using Shrek and other cuddly characters in their ads for cereal.

Science. That's a word that means when you figure that cereals with sugar and cuddly characters endorsing them have been around since before the word obesity was invented, then maybe cereal characters should be thrown out as a suspect in child obesity cases. Science. It can tell you exactly how many households have obese children with incomes over $10 a year make purchasing decisions for the family.

Meanwhile....

If you doubt for a second that porn is completely accepted in the mainstream of American life for people under 30, catch the next ad for AXE Body Spray, or, if you're not a fan of "Adult Swim," "Scrubs" or "Kyle XY," as I am, click here to see.

Their current marketing campaign is summed up by the simple slogan, "Bom Chick a Wah Wah," which is the phonetic pronunciation of a classic guitar lick played during porn scenes. Does this work at all if the target audience doesn't know much about porn?

Big Cologne has always marketed it's products as lady magnets. But they drew the line at what would happen after you got the ladies by the nose. Hai Karate showed adult men fending off (and punching!) horny women in the 60s. Even Hai Karate men had traditional ethical and moral boundaries and they were enforced with a haymaker, if necessary.

The Old Spice Guy attracted women hanging about the wharf, but even they went off into the soft-focused distance, perhaps to a cozy chowder restaurant with a fireplace for some romance. He had a shot, but not a certainty.

"Bom Chick a Wah Wah." Whoa! The Axe people are betting the sex farm that their target audience of 16-30 knows plenty about porn, even it's musical conventions, thus guaranteeing them an encounter with women so sexually aggressive that one sniff of AXE will overcome any gestures of romance or self-defense by the wearer to create a real life porn scene. The floor may even sprout shag carpeting.

Keep chasing Tony the Tiger. He's a problem.

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?

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.

DAKOTA PANNING

You should know that Hollywood is pissed at us Americans again. Too bad. We were really starting to like each other again after electing that adorable Nancy Pelosi to Speaker of the Housewife.

Hollywood is pissed at America for being pissed at Hollywood's new controversial film featuring 12-year old Dakota Fanning getting raped. I agree that would be an outrageous thing for Americans to get upset about except she was most likely 11 when the thing was filmed, and even some perverts are uneasy with snake eyes at belt level.

Dakota Fanning tells "Hounddog" critics she is mad

By Bob Tourtellotte

LOS ANGELES (Reuters) - Precocious 12-year-old Dakota Fanning, star of the kids movie "Charlotte's Web," is as mad as she can be and is not going to take any more criticism about her latest role -- a rape victim.

Whoa! You don't want to get Precocious 12-year old Dakota Fanning mad at ya! That could get you banned from her Myspace page. You might as well hang it up then. BTW, For people in S. Fulton County, "precocious" means her future husband is only 30 right now.

Fanning saw her newest movie "Hounddog" premiere at the Sundance Film Festival this week after months of complaints from religious groups and others who questioned whether her family and the film's maker acted responsibly when asking her to act in a rape scene.

It was a responsible rape scene. This is art, dammit. Not porn.

"When it gets to the point of attacking my mother, my agent ... my teacher, who were all on the set that day, that started to make me mad," she said in an interview.

Well, I didn't know they stood around the pool table to cheer you on as you got raped in front of the camera. Sorry for jumping to conclusions.

I'm not a police official or attorney, so I don't know if they have grounds to arrest everyone involved in the production of this "Hounddog" picture, but I do know if anyone was smoking on the set of that movie, heads would have rolled. You wouldn't want to be smoking while filming a pre-pubescent girl getting a high hard one. Might hurt her lungs and stunt her growth.

Let's hear what the official blogger of 20-year olds and rape film fan, Anastasia Goodstein, has to say on the whole matter:

I haven't seen "Hounddog," but I did see "Bastard Out of Carolina," "The Accused," and "Boys Don't Cry." All of which feature incredibly disturbing rape scenes that were tough to sit through. But in a country where in 2004-2005, there were an estimated 200,780 victims of rape, attempted rape or sexual assault and about 44% of the rape victims were under age 18, I think it's important to raise awareness about the horror of these crimes and the long term effects they have on their victims.

It's educational. A lot of young girls still think rape is cool, so we need a movie to show them that rape is bad and only leads to bad things like getting a movie made about your life. Rapists will learn how wrong they are too. That's why I collect these films on Blu-Ray.

OK, so let's put Dakota in a Skinemax film where she's making beautiful romantic love to something she purchased at Target to teach people the beauty of consensual sex and a good bargain. It'll be an important film.

MELISSA WORTH

NEXT WEEK ON....DULUTH!

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.

THE WACHS EMO NUDES*

Friends and family may be trying to tell me something, and perhaps they're right. Maybe I'm being a little too harsh in my assessment of the growing MySpace culture. That's the kind of guy I am. Willing to admit that he's wrong. Willing to take a chance on new things. (Hey, I ate salmon last night....and liked it!!!)

I present now to you, Wachs as you've never seen him. An intimate look at Wachs. THE WACHS EMO NUDES!!!!

*Not for children.

That's hot!!

Yeah, baby!

Lookin good!

Skeet, skeet, skeet, skeet!

Yeah, come on!

I'm a bad boy!

Sssssssslurp!

"I approve of this unbelievably hot message."

THE STORY OF (BARBAR) O

Have you heard? Barbaro is making a remarkable recovery. Barbaro, the horse who has better health care than me, has come from 9 lengths behind death to churn it out for a possible photo finish. But we're not there yet. Oh no. Barbaro, the Seabiscuit of veterinary medicine, is far from the home stretch. The object now is to see if he's anything worth keeping. Will Barbaro produce healthy mares and stallions or a healthy bowl of kibbles and bits? Too bad Barbaro has no writing skills, else he'd be Ann Coulter. (That was wrong and gratuitous, but I do have flaming liberal readers to please. Sorry, my goddess.)

The horse training field, I'm told, regards artificial insemination of thoroughbreds as de facto corruption of the art/sport, much like steroids in baseball are regarded as an assumed negative. I don't know enough about horses to even remember if they have tails (They do? Oh good.), much less be able to tell you whether this belief against artificial insemination is just horseshit or not. But it's important in the calculation of whether this horse, who should have really been downgraded to donkey and beheaded right after his race at the Preakness, IMHO, lives further or gets Schaivoed. A horse that cannot support himself with his two hind legs cannot mount (Did it move? Be honest.), and therefore would be no good to the industry that depends on semen integrity (OK, now it moved.). Better to take the insurance money with a little "Jewish Grooming," winky-wink.

At this point, Barbaro is an equine porn star. Is he healthy? Can he get it up in there? What is the cost/benefit of a horse sex mount support device? These things are what the money people want to know. So, what's the difference between him and Ron Jeremy? Ok, Barbaro is hotter, but that's about it.

Given that a mount-capable Barbaro can get the owners tens of millions more money than a dead, but insured, Barbaro, forces me to conclude that soon,  the culture that gave us Barbaro, the horse with better health care than me, will unveil a completely new concept in animal comfort. Ladies and Gentlemen, please clap for Barbaro, the horse with better sex toys than me.

THE ORAL MINORITY

I'm not against gay sex, just against gay marriage. Well, OK. You got me there. I AM against gay sex. That's crazy and dirty. I wouldn't do that for under half a million dollars per act.

I guess, then, I'm not against the people who want to have gay sex. Well, OK. You got me there, too. People who do that sort of stuff are crazy and dirty. Especially for free.

Men who want to act like women and women who want to act like men? I can't find a reasonable justification. That's sad when one feels the need to disparage their own genitals. You won't get far trying to argue with nature despite our culture's attempts to lionize the vast net benefits of being a sissy.

I'm wearing my fuzzy slippers right now, but that's as far as it goes with me. On second thought, I do admit some joy at cleaning the ole fruit basket in the shower, but that's it. I can do it myself, sailor. Thanks.

Sometimes I'll wear the slippers out of the house, but at least I'm not going to DC to boss people around and tell them they should be forced by law to like it, and then fling empty shoe boxes at them.

What I'm trying to say is that I'm in favor of allowing people who want to do that sort of behavior with consenting adults to live. And let live too, by the way, for you sensitive practitioners of false inference. Look stupid if you want.

But I am against gay marriage, period, because marriage is about raising children, not adult sexual freedom and fulfillment. Most of you marrieds know this by heart.

Kids are not born with a political sense. Their early survival depends on a natural self-centeredness until they develop the physical, emotional, and political skills to survive through adulthood. It's no less morally wrong to deny a child the information on survival that men and women possess uniquely and cooperatively, than it is to rob a child of innocence through the sudden corruption that a molester brings to bear.

This gay marriage ban amendment is hugely popular. It has broad support. But there is no way in hell it will pass. Kiddin' me? It's not designed to. It's put together by some very smart politicians who want Republican guys like me to go to the polls this November and vote for them. It works, because I will.

The real cynics here--in other words, people who have no core principles--are the liberals who express shock that politicians will actually say what they believe to get votes. How long has our system of government been in place? Who's the stupid backward hick now?

PRE-MOTHER'S DAY

From England comes this report that an 11-year old girl is pregnant.

Here's the photo proof.

Good thing they blurred her face to protect her innocence. Now she can blend in anonymously with the other pregnant 11-year olds.

OH NO NOT I

Although I come across as a relaxed, secure, and warm individual to most people, the sad fact is that I have way too many hangups to be a contestant on Survivor. There are just too many things I couldn't sacrifice even for a pre-tax million dollars, which isn't so much sitting here on the back side of tax day, where the $97Gs that had already been lifted from my earnings during 2005 was apparently insufficient to run the government properly.

One of the contestants on Survivor: Narnia, I think it is, has a chafing problem. The only reason I tune into Survivor now is to see how this contestant deals with it. I do a lot of walking and running to help maintain my warm, secure, relaxed demeanor, but I must first slather on a thick slick of petroleum based substances all over my inner thighs before doing so. Exxon Valde(e)z Nuts. Sure it kills the fish and wild game down there, but it insures a friction-free landing spot for my thighs with every step I take. Not taking this precaution results in Slot Rot, The 11th Plague, Day Herpes, Testicle Parmesan, Shmeckel Shiner...whatever you want to call the red raw skin that results when wet clothing saws it's way over an unlubricated dermis.

This guy on Survivor walks like he has a real towel sticker on his groin. Ouch! I'd beg people to start alliances against me. It's not worth a pre-tax $1m. Even though the producers allow each contestant one "luxury item," where does one store a little tube of cortisone cream on a deserted island without some animal eating it?

"Hey, Jeff, could you hold my cream while I run on the rickety bridge over some brackish water and solve a giant puzzle?" It would make Rafe seem heterosexual. To me, it's not even a luxury item. I'd trade my delicious rice and wild boar allotments for them. It is my immunity idol and integral to survival.

I also can't sleep without a hot shower first, and I need my allergy medications. Might as well take up smoking. Have any smokers made it past the first two weeks of Survivor? I think it's impossible without some producer aid and coverup. I'll ask Skip Carey to look it up.

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Mr. Michael Walter of Suwanee has sent me a beautiful photo essay entitled, "Publix Porno." Enjoy.

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Hall of Fame "Idol Moment" tonight.

Pickler is rehearsing with Rod Stewart, and he's giving her the "Rachel Who?" look. He is clearly considering the pros and cons of ditching his 5th wife and baby sitting in the other room in order to get a fresh start with the sexy bale of hay that stands before him.

After singing, Rod praises Pickler's..uh...chops.

Pickler says, "Whew! That's a load off my chest."

Rod Stewart and some technical people snicker knowingly...

End scene.

My wife glanced at me with that, "OK. YOU explain to our daughter why you rewound and laughed twice at that" look.

Pass the cream, I'm chafing.

NOW'S THE TIME TO GO PLASMA

Headed down to Orlando for a couple of shows at Braves Spring Training Thursday and Friday. Sorry about the repeats today, but we needed to rest for the drive...yes, DRIVE to Orlando today after shooting TV commericals....yes, TV COMMERCIALS!... yesterday. It's a net gain, I suppose, for us and you the RG listener.  The commericials are the first Regular Guys TV spots since 2000...yes, 2000! Someone finally convinced someone that a bunch of billboards are not enough in today's crowded entertainment marketplace.

The first ones air Monday...yes, MON--sorry...so I will likely not see them before they air. Crew members were laughing during the filming and takes were few, so that's a good sign. See for yourself next week coming to your favorite cable/network/local TV show. Also, there is a distinct possibility that there will be a return of 2002s "The Regular Guy" segments on Fox Sports this summer before Braves games.

Here's a disturbing email from a gent named William of Woodstock:

Dear Regular Guys,

I was recently traveling up Interstate 75 and got pinned behind a mom-mobile.  What once was a perfectly fine GMC Yukon was now covered with a dozen youth bumper stickers.  Inside this mom-mobile were probably 4 screaming kids: 3 boys who played soccer, basketball, and lacrosse (according to the stickers) and a girl who played... well... participated in cheerleading. 

I would say it is because I am a guy and we're all creepy like Larry, but even my wife pointed it out:  the cheerleading sticker was composed of a megaphone standing on end with two strategically-placed pom poms on either side. 

Since this revelation, I have seen dozens more parading up and down the interstates.

Am I just creepy, or are a bunch of moms completely ignorant to the phallic symbol they proudly display for their darlings?

William, I agree that today's teens are oversexualized and it's not fair to men such as you and me to have these carrots constantly dangled in our face, knowing that we will end up with the stick as well. I've started a new group that will crusade to keep kids kids, until they are mature enough to handle the rigors of being followed on I-75 by gentlemen, or gathering with MySpace associates for cocktails. 

Fathers Urging Control of Kids will be lobbying the Gold Dome mightily in the months ahead. Thus far, the media has ignored us in favor of annoying groups like those bitches at MADD, probably because they make money off of this trash, but with your help, we can make giant strides in the fight against ourselves.

OK, now what?

It's almost 12:27am, 2006. I'm ready to sleep for the next 15 hours.  I was all prepared to go to bed at 9:30 this evening, but I rallied for the ball drop, only to wind up on the crapper at the dawning of the new year. While everyone else was watching a peach or an apple or drool from Dick Clark's mouth drop at the stroke of midnight upstairs, the Wachs shitplum hit the water simultaneously for a very nice personal celebration, so it wasn't so sad as it might seem on paper. Hail the new tradition.

Before I make one last sweep of the neighborhood to shoo away the local Yakuza youth and their seemingly endless supply of fireworks, and then bury myself in bedding to gather energy for the remainder of Hanukkah, MLK Day, and the Super Bowl, let me raise a handful of percocets to you, faithful reader/listener. My promise to you in 2006 is to deliver, day in and day out, except for weekends and holidays, the finest in terrestrial radio entertainment. If I can do that, and devise a consistent method for determining when my wife is having her period, it'll be a very good 2006. I've been with the woman for 19 years and the learning curve is still a bit too curvy. I'm only now beginning to understand the difference between when I've done something wrong or when she's simply got the new moon fever. If she'd place her knockoff Fendi tampon purse on top of the toilet tank or put the Sponge Bob pillow on my side of the bed during Leak Week, this would go a long way to indicate to me and the little rabbi when Red Sabbath is over.

Happy new year, and I hope you don't get killed today.

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I wrote that when I was pretty much in the bag. It's not bad, but missing something. That something, in my view, is a good old-fashioned year end review of 2005.

Here's one I found that sums it up nicely for me.

Infanta-fanta, don't ya wanta?

Why are you making a face?

This is adult baby Bill from Douglasville who was on our show Friday.

I worked very hard to get these photos.

As you can see, he likes acting like an infant.

Did you hear me, young man? Stop cringing.

This photo, from his personal photo album, is of Bill in his special order adult baby high chair...

You stop shivering this instant or you're punished!

...in his specially built adult baby size room including a crib to adult scale.

Go to your room without dinner if you can't sit still! Move before I smack your ass.

Here's an online shopping site for adult baby garments with a really nice Snap Front Romper for about $70. That seems a bit steep, but as the copy says:

How sweet you will look lying there in your thick diaper, dressed in your new snap front playsuit, and kicking your little feet in the air.

A small price to pay.

I feel sorry for these fetishists. They could lose their jobs if their private enjoyments are revealed, unlike you and I who can easily claim to our employers, "Hey, Hugh Grant did it," and be back at the old desk Monday morning.

I'm going to take the time to photoshop some adult baby pictures with my face to help make this practice more acceptable in the mainstream, much like I did for the practice of masturbation in the 80s:

Keep your plastic panties tight, adult babies! I'm right behind you.

Shrimp Friend Finder

A listener phoned us this morning to tell us that he and his wife are swingers in the Paulding Co. area, which, you can imagine, is a goldmine of hot, sexy couples.

This gentleman told us that Ben the Bunnyman contacted them in Adult Friend Finder.Com, a site devoted to hookups amongst such people, and he forwarded us Ben's sexy ad. This is boiled down from the original HTML.

Profile for bunnyman1971

I am fun to be with i am honest and very afection and passation love to kiss to cuddle and relax an take it easy

Ideal Person:

I am looking for an lady that like to try to do differents things i like to kiss alot i also like to take it nice and slow and like a lot of for play !

34 year old Man in Hiram, Georgia, United States Looking For: Women for 1-on-1 sex

bunnyman1971's Information:

Gender: Man

Birthdate: August xx, 19xx

Sexual Orientation: Straight

Lives in: Hiram, Georgia, United States

Marital Status: Single

Height: 5 ft 7 in / 171-172 cm

Body Type: Average

Smoking: I'm a non-smoker

Drinking: I'm a light/social drinker

Education: High School graduate

Race: Caucasian

Male Endowment: None/Average

Circumcised: Yes

Speaks: English (editor's note:!?!?!)

....damn...just damn.