House of Wachs

DANCING WITH THE FATES

I find it sad that they didn't really care to factor in Buzz Aldrin's age (80) in yesterday's judging on DWTS. They gave him 4s.

"I remember sitting at home in London watching you on the Moon," Judge Len Goodman said. "Unfortunately, I can't give marks for bravery."

Then why the hell did they invite him on? Because they really thought an 80 year old man could go hoof to hoof with one of the Pussycat Dolls and her meat puppet?  Jesus, Len! Got much colony envy? Now the British want reparations. Where is the end, man?

Big effyou to ABC for mocking this great pioneering patriot. Why not just lure him to the top of a flight of stairs and push him down? Big ratings. "Pushing Old Celebrities Down the Steps." Why not?

Buncha neon assdildos. You'll get old too, fuckers, and I hope your beloved Obama's single payer euthanasia mill gets into high claim denial mode just as you need that ass cancer drug to save your creepy, ungraceful lives.

The good news is that Shannen Doherty couldn't beat Buzz Aldrin in a dancing competition. Ha-ha, fugly. Get your eyes fixed. They're still uneven.

The TV news coverage of the W.Va. mining disaster 2010 is pointless and uniformative. CNN, FOX, MSNBC...it doesn't matter. There's only so much a pretty blonde with nice legs and a neatly coiffed honey hole can credibly tell me about mining.

The one thing that stands out to me about the mining explosion in W.Va. is in this quote from the story out of the Wall St. Journal:

"Massey...notified the Mine Safety and Health Administration...at 3:30 pm of a mine explosion..."

I couldn't help but thinking, "There's a gov't app for that?"

We're pretty deep into the government mine here ourselves, dontcha think, when this agency exists despite the fact that it seems they are not doing the job we pay them to do, which is to make mines safe and healthy, which they aren't, and can't be. Who cares if a mine is healthy, anyway? There is no government agency for Facebook safety (yet), but we've had fewer deaths this year on Facebook than in the mines.

We live in very clear and confusing times. On one hand, we seem to have 2 government agencies for every real or perceived risk or offense known to man. On the other hand, the iPad, a product of free thinking, is selling like government programs!

Apple seems to have an app for everything, too, but Apple's apps are a googol (sorry, no offense) times more fun. And some are truly FREE! The bad ones are repealed by the obnoxious consumer reviews, and everyone of every color and belief system gets a hack at making it big in the app world if they so choose.

Maybe a lot of people think the iPad IS from the government. There are those morons out there who will defend the wisdom of all government programs by pointing to our roads (which aren't so pleasurable to ride on and hard to use at many points in the day), our schools (a day orphanage for poor and unloved children) and Tang breakfast drink (which I imagine is quite tasty up in space where the only other choice is the toilet bowl for hydration), and of course, the river card--flip it---"well, who do you think invented the internet?"

I know. Thaaaaa government. More accurately, the military, which is an important point since in the days of the DARPAnet, as it was known, the military was separate from most government functions because, unlike most government functions, it was a legitimate function of the government.

Even the military didn't know what to do with it except having it's scientists share info on how to kill people better. It took regular people with specialized knowledge to give us the PC to access this government invented wonder, and only then did it become a thriving bazaar where one can get anything without budging his enlarged prostate.

I don't know which side is winning.

REJECTED

Damn.

I really liked this bit, but it was rejected by CNN's standards and practices for "What's Your Story?" Ep. #19, taping tomorrow.

That's why there's the internet. When things get censored on the internet, they still can be viewed on the internet.

CBS golf announcer Bobby Clampett called golfer Liang Wen Chong, a "Chinaman."

Clampett later apologized, saying it was bad timing to make such remarks while people were watching a South African beat Tiger Woods in a tournament called the Masters.

That's show biz. And let me just take this moment to point out that, contrary what you've heard, there are plenty of businesses just like it.

CLINTON STEALS

My old pal Tim Conway, Jr. who can be heard weeknights from 8-11pm Pacific in Los Angeles on KLSX,(97.1FM) and on the web, emails a complaint.

"Hey, that Clinton is stealing my dad's act!"

Well, I sure as hell won't be voting for him to be president this year. Not after this.

HIDES IN PLAIN SIGHT

Great episode tonight of "Janice Dickinson Modeling Agency." Did you see it?

Janice invites the organizers from the LA chapter of PETA (People for Ethical Treatment of Animals) to come in to strong arm her agency and all the models into giving up fur.

So the PETA guy tells all the models that his job is to go undercover to investigate the practices of fur makers. It's easy to see how he could sneak unnoticed into their farms and factories what with his inconspicuously blonded surfer haircut, colorful surfer blouse, and madras cargo shorts. The same disguise that helped him infiltrate GLAAD while he was working for Scientology.

He wants Janice's guys and gals to go outside to Hollywood Blvd. and take off their clothes in protest of fur, on the theory that the best way to convince the fur wearing public to abandon wearing fur is for hot men and women to threaten them with nudity.

"I don't know, Darryle. If we continue to wear fur those hot guys with great abs and big shaved ones over there might take off their clothes and start teabagging. Maybe we should stop."

It's a tribute to the horniness of guys that not a single male model questions the motivation of the dreamy PETA organizer.

As if these professional attention-cravers need anymore convincing to go nude on Hollywood Blvd, the PETA soldierette then shows the emotionally fragile group a video about how furs are made.

And it's all this footage of some busted up animals getting skinned alive in the 80s at some rogue fur outfit, likely in the Third World, by people who have been languishing in a Burmese prison since 1986, and they strawman it as representative of the entire fur industry. And if it weren't for these evil fur people, why, these animals would be free to run their own businesses and take their kids to the mall and get regular checkups from a family physician at a low universal price.

I don't think the crying was any less than the day Freddie Mercury died.

Then Janice tells the models--only because it's required by law--that any model who wishes to retain their dignity and opt out of the festivities, could do so without retribution. HA!

One shyly does, and she is immediately crucified by the still red-eyed males around her.

"I'm just curious," says one bossy hugo. "Why did you choose not to help? I don't understand"

"Let me ask you," she replies. "Why do you choose sex with other men? I don't understand."

No, I made that part up. She didn't say that. That's what I would have said to this Speedo clad bully. Tend your own garden, Lollipop.

After the nude anti-fur rally, which results in a sharp increase of animals being beaten for their pelts, it's back inside the agency for champagne and poppers to celebrate the top notch morality work they have performed for mankind and the all the little creatures of the forest who lie still with their skulls caved in.

Every episode a riot. It's like watching a society on Neptune with this show.

I didn't read her book, but I understand that Janice Dickinson has been a victim of bad men, and that's tough on a gal. I like Janice. She looks fun and she's very smart and experienced, but she hates herself. She's very crude and tough. Not at all soft and graceful as a woman of her age should be if she were comfortable with herself. We saw what happened to Heath Ledger after bad experiences with men. He didn't even get an Oscar for that. Ya gotta give a guy an Oscar if he takes a rogering in a movie. They gave one to Daniel Day-Lewis and all he had to do was learn to paint with his feet. Big deal.

So, Miss Janice, I would suggest that the best way to deal with the demons of being knocked around by bad men in the past is to not appropriate and incorporate their behavioral characteristics into your own personality profile. It's not a turn on, a 60-something chick with a Picassoesque face and a sailor's mouth, who behaves like the daughter of Tara Reid and Mr. T.  Just not sexy.

WACHS' MEDIA MEDITATIONS

Channel 46 here in the ATL is really dumb. How hard is it to get ratings when they have this magnificent creature of gOD on their staff? I'm referring to Dagmar Midcap, pictured above, with the glorious cans made of soft she-leather. She's clearly Canadian or Australian.

You wanna know why it's hard to get ratings with her, and why they are always last in the news race, sometimes behind syndicated reruns of Archie Bunker's Place? She's currently utilized as the EARLY MORNING weather gal. A time of day when few can really study her. Shame.

The caption on this said that she MAY be moving to evening news weather. Hell, she should be doing the whole newscast by herself. Sports, weather, traffic, murders...the whole she-bang. Katie Couric does it, and she doesn't even have the looks to distract viewers from her many inaccuracies and gaping gaps of actual news knowledge. She's a downright toothy moron!

I want to be assassinated by those cans.

Herschel Walker reveals in new book he has multiple personalities

"That's all news to me," former Georgia coach Vince Dooley said in Friday editions of The Atlanta Journal-Constitution. "All I know is whatever personality he had when he had the football was the one I liked."

"I'm probably one of his closest friends and that's news to me," said Frank Ros, who was captain of Georgia's 1980 national championship team. "I knew he was working on a book but I just thought it was about football. He does 100 things at once and always has projects going on, but that blows me away."

The reason for the confusion is that Tony Dorsett, who thinks he's Herschel, wrote the book.

I know everyone in Atlanta is staking out this blog and checking it every few minutes for some confirmation about rumors they've heard about me and my career in show business. Well, your patience has paid off!

I just received a letter from my masters at SuperDeluxe.com and Turner Entertainment Group informing me that What's Your Story, America's #1 satirical sub 3-minute news show on broadband video sites in America, is renewed for another 10 big episodes due to my kick-ass attitude!!!

After a couple of week break, the next show will be Friday, the 8th day of February. YEAH!!!!!

FORWARD THINKING

I want to make it clear that I did not make the classic mistake of celebrating 2008. I merely kissed 2007 goodbye. There's a huge difference.

Here's me last year.

Look at that. FOOL! Celebrating a year that hadn't begun and would prove to suck. Well, no more. I am never again going to celebrate a year I haven't lived yet starting with this one. As far as I'm concerned, the jury is out on 2008. No. The jury hasn't even been seated yet.

And for those of you who stubbornly cling to the idea of celebrating a year at it's beginning, think about this. What if you die this year? You've already gone on record as having endorsed this year as a good one. Dumb. Really dumb.

We went to see some friends in Charleston, SC. I've some cool pictures to post as soon as I can dig the SD card out of the seat cushions in my car.

Their house was on a beautiful private island accessible only by boat to residents and their confirmed guests. Transport on the island is by golf cart or feet. The gimmick here is the closeness and harmony with the environment. Strict building codes and absolutely no retail.

That means, of course, you have to pretty much storyboard your next couple of days before you take a 12-mile boat ride back to civilization just to get to your car. And it's not like you get a discount for regressing so. In fact, all the residents and home owners paid quite the hefty premium for the remoteness and oneness of it all. Environmentalism is so cumbersome, inefficient, almost masochistic. You work your ass off for years to earn all this money and then blow it on a spread where you can watch birds and grass and trees like you can anywhere, but just less comfortably. I don't see it. All that cash to pretend you're a shipwreck survivor.

I like nature, but it's kind of boring after awhile. That's why they have cable channels. They sift through all the nature out there for the good stuff to film and show on TV. That way, you get some nature in ya, and can get some work done. That was the tacit bargain struck centuries ago between the rural and city people. Some of us will need to work in buildings with our minds.

Then I get home and glance at the WSJ which is reeling about the $100 a barrel oil, and how the US economy is in turmoil over this. Yeah, no kidding. Being environmentally friendly is hideously, obscenely expensive. The return on investment is poor. I've read several analyses that say roughly the same thing. We have enough oil in the ground obtainable at current technology to last 100 years at $1 a gallon. Plenty of time for Mother Necessity to help us discover new human sustaining technologies. So let's cut that shit out in '08.

Some good news on the '08 front. Hillary Clinton loses the first round pretty badly. Third place behind John Fagwards and Barack O Carter. You just know she's screaming at someone tonight and making Bill look more and more like a hero for cheating on her. I won't be the first or last with my analysis on this matter, but arguably the clearest. She lost because she's ugly and mean. Nothing anyone can do at this point to change this. She's certainly in it for the long haul because of her money, connections, and willingness to murder, but America will not vote for her. Nice.

On the other hand, if the GOP keeps handing I Hate Huckabee victories in the early going, your pal Wachs may be forced to take a hard look at Ms. Cynthia McKinney with the Green Party. At least with her, she'll do something to get herself impeached, and we can start fresh. Who's her running mate? Bobby Petrino? I'm in.

What else to catch up on? Oh, yeah. I got yelled at by a wedding DJ last week for watching the Patriots/Giants game instead of participating on the dance floor. Look, jackleg. You spin the MP3s and let me worry how to entertain myself. Weddings are for women and their friends. I participated plenty, but weddings end for me when dessert is served.

Even my wife, despite her frenzy to escape her roots and marry into my family fortune, soberly understood the implications for her special day and worked with me in scheduling our wedding for a day when no major sporting events would distract from our union of love. Unfortunately, the SF earthquake of '89 delayed the World Series to our day, but at least we made an effort and that Series sucked and no one cared when it returned.

Beyond that though,  what kind of man tells other men, who are GUESTS, and are ENJOYING THEMSELVES, watching one of the most MEMORABLE FOOTBALL GAMES OF THE DECADE, to stop? John Kerry risked all of his political cred demanding this game be put on three networks as the Constitution says, so we're almost obligated to watch. This DJ must be paid per boogie...or he's a fem.

Saw two movies that have Oscar buzz all over them. Juno was a pleasant disappointment. It came within a pregnant teen's belly hair of being unbearable with dialogue that made "Clerks" seem natural. The soundtrack has convinced me that, from now on,  the word "indie" is to be used as an insult for people who are consciously quirky. Then I saw "No Country For Old Men" which is a good movie with a shitty ending. You will love it and then you will hate it as I did.

Tiffany Fallon was just fired from Celebrity Apprentice. That hurts. I know she still wants me and my brother,  Dr. Mike, in a threesome with me watching from a closet. Now I can't watch her every week. I feel like NBC has done something terribly wrong, and I've emailed them to bring her back and set Omarosa on fire as she deserves. I'd love to see Trump say to her, "You're on fire!"

I swear, as soon as I find a foolproof alibi for the night when Rascal Flatts' bus goes over a cliff due to the brake lines being cut, she will be my next wife. I almost had her several years ago, after I photoshopped a penis on her picture and showed it to Keith Brooking, who believed it was real and immediately broke up with her. But by the time I saw her again, she had already hooked up with the band.

Tiffany was the was the first to get fired, too. Double pain. She failed to make a lot of money selling hot dogs apparently, and Trump admonished her, being a Playmate of the Year and all,  for not calling up Hugh Hefner and asking for $10,000 for a hot dog.

"He's my good friend," says Trump. "He would have done it for charity, my good friend would have. He would have given you $100,000, I'll bet my good friend would have. Did you know I'm good friends with an aging pornographer? You should have called him. He's a friend."

Well, as a friend, you probably know that Hef doesn't give a Tiffany Fallon $100,000 for a charity hot dog unless it's his weiner being wrapped in her buns out of charity for him being 90 and snorting Viagra.

So Trumpy fired her for being too shy and sweet and being too grossed out by Hugh Hefner. All the things that give me a boner, he hates, that Trump. He could never be my good friend.

Much more later, friends.

LET'S SEE NOW...

What are these three slapjacks gonna talk about in Annapolis? The Arabs want to liquidate Israel, and Israel wants to defend itself. There's little else to say except for Bush to step up and for the thousandth time tell the Arabs to cut the shit or get blasted. What more talking needs to be done after 2000 years of discussion? How are the Patriots doing? How crazy it is trying to get Hannah Montana tix? They've got a whole week to fill. What a waste of jet fuel.

OJ Simpson's 2nd Trial of the Century has been scheduled for April 7. Mike Vick's is scheduled for April 2nd. Throw Hitler's birthday on the 20th, and April 2008 is shaping up as an exciting month for you racists out there.

I think it's rather cool of OJ to entertain a new generation with his felonious antics. Most of my brain says I'd like to see him get his due in prison, but a small abcess on my brain keeps insisting it might be cool if OJ either walked or got like seven years so he could get out of jail in time to make more asinine schemes and have a 3rd decade in a row where he's on trial for a major felony. I think our children and our grandchildren deserve an OJ trial, too. It's a thrilling opportunity.

I don't like any of the Republican candidates this year, to be honest. Too early. Although I think Giuliani is the most captivating thus far, he's still kind of an FDS nozzle. His personality is a little too erratic for the presidency. I could see him hanging out in a bar and everything's going great, but 2 beers in, Rudy is a completely changed man from 2 beers out.

So, no, I don't watch any of the foreplay debates. Just bring the main event and someone who can actually beat the most beatable woman on the planet. It may Obama now that Queen Oprah has selected him as her political boy toy this go round. We'll discuss some of Oprah's previous endorsements on the next What's Your Story, #5 becoming available Friday morning on SuperDeluxe.com.

If Oprah is so smart and powerful, why doesn't SHE run for president? Because although she's nice and warm and rich, she's also a sucker with mediocre judgment.

Yeah, I think I'll start a school in Africa for teen girls and get one of the locals over there to run it for me. What could go wrong?

If a Democrat wins the White House, so be it. The country could recover from Barack O Carter, and it would from Hillary Cank. Only in her case, people of my generation would not see the recovery. I'd like to have a few golden years. At least the past year of my life gets me a good jump on everyone else in adjusting to the coming deep recession.

Today's newspaper was actually useful for the first time in months with regard to getting news. They printed pictures of some of the carefully screened YouTube dimwits scheduled to appear on the debate this evening and saved me a lot of time. I would have been pissed to have to sit through a debate waiting to see the YouTube questions, only to hear the least enlightening questions possible.

The YouTube gimmick that these debates employ is laboring under the assumption that because a technological breakthrough is transforming our culture, it follows that it's content will be just as brilliant and groundbreaking. Well, it's not.

99% of YouTube is shit. 99% of YouTube is responses to and parodies of Chris Crocker. 99% of YouTube is instant nostalgia of the embarrassing kind. I've probably contributed 10% of it myself. I'm already burned out on the whole garage/basement look to the videos. To really capture a large audience, in 2008, as in 1968, you've got to have some slick and polish to a production. It's cute at first, the rawness, like your girlfriend's sexy, raspy voice panting in ecstasy when you first bone her in college, but by 40 it's enough to make you want to take lots of pills.

There are some gems out there in YouTube land, but in roughly the same ratio if you did a nationwide cattle call for the next big thing. American Idol. Millions have tried out, and after 6 years, they've only found three real stars. One was voted off in the middle. Innovative platform, though.

So here are some of the YouTube debate questions, and how I would answer them, minus that snowman bullshit, which ballroom dances on my every nerve. The questioners are from: Seattle, Modesto, Ann Arbor, and Austin. All males no older than 30 and all asking questions that may have relevance in a general election, but not in deciding who the new Republican horse will be.

"Are you willing to demand that ... paper ballots are used ... or ... paper printouts are mandatory for electronic ... machines?"

That's a Democrat gripe through and through. Paper ballots cause more error and confusion than electronic. Is Florida 2000 that distant of a memory?

The electronic machines are practically error free, and the only people creating doubt are the fringe kooks who have lost elections and make wild claims against the machines instead of taking the blame for not connecting with the voters in sufficient quantities. I don't see them complaining about swiping their credit card over the internets.

"If nominated, do you have a short list of possible running mates? Would you reach across to the opposition?"

Why would any Republican who doesn't want to lose by more than 50 points ask a Democrat to be his running mate? It's never happened before with either party. Government is a semi-functioning marketplace of competing ideas. Maybe we need more parties but certainly not less. Isn't government enough of a monolith without consolidating power even more? Go away.

"See this sign? The people who own this house are having a problem selling it. [Who's] at fault for the mortgage crisis?"

The idiots with the sign up. That's who.

If you sign up for a loan you can't or won't pay for, you're a part of the problem. There are no predatory lenders. Not one of those mortgages was coerced. There are many desperate, greedy people who will sign anything to have a home they can't afford. What can government do? Make things worse, as they are about to do with another round of anti-predatory lending laws that make people on the margins and some inside, unable to own housing. Then, as sure as Wheel follows Jeopardy, some hustler comes around blasting the same mortgagers for "ignoring the poor." Back and forth until we're Brazil.

"If you didn't get the Republican nomination, who would you want to get it and why?"

This is my favorite. It adds absolutely no clarity to the central question of the debate: "Who SHOULD be President?"

What he's asking is this. "What other candidate do you like? If I like him, too,  I'll vote for you so he can lose."

What a tail-chasing moron.  How does it help you decide on a candidate by asking them what they'll do if they lose?

About ten years ago, a buddy of mine went on a job interview and afterward came to me dazed and confused.

"The guy asked me 5 reasons why he should hire me, and then 5 reasons why he SHOULDN'T hire me."

"What'd you say?"

"Nothing. I left. Reason #1. Because I'm not here. We never got to the rest."

WHAT'S NOT YOUR STORY #1

Starting today, I think it'll be fun to post the rejected stories from this week's What's Your Story episode. #4 is being shot tomorrow and will be online Friday. Final script was turned in this morning, and so now I present a new feature on the HOW website:

What's Not Your Story--The Outtakes!

What you'd pay extra for if you bought the DVD of this website, is FREE!

And as soon as I can figure out a way to change that, I will. But for now, take advantage.

These were rejected for a variety of reasons. Too dark, too mean, too long, too porny, too unfunny, too old, too libelous, etc. In other words, perfect for the internet. I know SuperDeluxe.com is on the internet, too, but they're on a different level of internet with standards and commerce and hits and all. So now, I take you to that other place on the internet, The Island of Misfit Stories, for our inaugural "What's NOT Your Story" #1

OCTOPUSSY

In India, a 2-year old girl with 4 arms and 4 legs had 2 of each removed last week.

A team of Indian surgeons worked on little Lakshmi around the clock until they had successfully chewed off her extraneous extremities.

Sorry for playing designated driver here during all the celebration, but It seems to me we are playing a dangerous game of god when we cut the limbs off of giant spiders and hope they blend in with human society.

It only sets the spiders up for failure, and where are these surgeons then?  Skipping off to their next case of social engineering not caring about the consequences.

I hope they at least let this little gal keep the pointy scales on her back and her prehensile tail. Maybe then society can start to recoup it's dignity

THE LITTLE ENGINE THAT COULD DATE RAPE

Popular children’s toy Aqua-Dots were pulled from store shelves last week for fear they contain the date rape drug GHB.

According to the Consumer Products Safety Commission, each year 100,000 children are date-raped by toys. Play-date rape is not new.

You'll recall in 1987 when Milton Bradley pulled the game, "Mystery Date Rape" from the shelves, and protest in 1994 brought the same fate to Mattel's Binky Suckin' Barbie and Wham-O's Slip-N-Slide

Experts say the toys use fun and bright colors to entice the children. Sometimes the toys take the children to nice restaurants and pressure them.

Kids, say no to strangers when they offer toys made out of steak and lobster.

THE WAITER’S STRIKE

(Video of wacky Writer's Striker)

No wonder terrorists love Hollywood people. They don't know how to fight back.

Where I come from, if someone is taking money out of your pocket and cocaine off your table, that's a big problem.

It's never solved by people with funny signs and wigs who rap with the inefficiency of a white person.

Meanwhile, the producers are eating a nice filet with peppercorn sauce discussing a new reality show with Mark Burnett while both are in a hot tub at the Palms in Vegas having their backs washed by two young ladies supplementing their income from college cheerleading.

And they are all laughing at you up on the 40” plasma screen.

Someone needs to cook that juicy cut of beef, and clean up the hotel suites for those people. Those someones are you, my writer friends.

How badly do you want your 4 more cents for a DVD? How far will you go to get residuals from the internet that you deserve? Who amongst you will be first to openly dip his penis in a glass of producer ordered iced tea?

Go ahead. Make my day, Rosebud. Can you handle the truth?

Show yourself the money.

SIX FLAGS OVER HILLARY

(video of flags falling behind Hillary Clinton)

Graphic video here of Hillary Clinton’s brush with death.

Watch here as Mrs. Clinton and her diverse lesbian friend, Huma, narrowly escape being crushed by these falling flags.

It would have been the first pole to touch Hillary since college.

“Who tried to kill my sister?”

Over on Capitol Hill,  a furious wicked witch of the West, house speaker Nancy Pelosi,  immediately launched an investigation into the owner of the flags.

Mrs. Pelosi is right. This was no accident. Someone is trying to bury Mrs. Clinton with the American flag. Fortunately for her, and the nation, Mrs. Clinton will not allow the American flag to interfere with her quest for the US Presidency.

PRESIDENT PERV

Pakistan is being overcome with Al-Qaeda and Taliban again, and Paki president Perv (The Uncle) Musharraf has suspended their constitution...like they had one.

I'm all for democracy in the middle east, but we're skipping a crucial step, and that's why this thing is dragging on.

In order to have democracy, you have to have sanity and humility. The Muslims are the pit bulls of people. Yes, some of them can be quite loving and gentle. But...

It's all about them and their 72 virgins.

Well, who doesn't want 72 virgins? So selfish.

And if you stopped wrapping up your women like mummies and beating them with sticks, you'd probably get some action in this life!

What we must do is convert them to a better religion such as Judaism. They still don't have to eat pork, but they'll learn to behave.

Round 'em up, give 'em a choice. We cut your head or your foreskin. Your move, Mohammed!

MYSELF, HELLO?

Is there anything funnier than 2 old rich jews bitching at each other?

(Seinfeld clip)

"Don't you know who I am?"

The sad answer Seinfeld, is no. Larry King has no idea who you are. He's 172 years old and he doesn't care about anything but his prostate.

He's also a praying mantis. A very smart praying mantis.

And his audience is just as old as he is and confuses you with that handsome young man on the Wonder Years.

So Larry is just setting the scene for the old folks who watch while getting diapered for the evening.

Eat some cereal, Seinfeld, and calm down.

A MOCKERY OF MOCKERY

Genius! NBC is preaching about global warming while my toes are purple from the night cold. They're doing their Green Week, and I guess it must be sound environmental practice to destroy shows so no one will want to see them resulting in energy savings. I think NBC is possibly behind the writer's strike to save paper. Well, I'm with the writers now.

Every goddamn comedy I like, from "Earl" to "The Office" ( I didn't see Scrubs because Zach Braff minces over my every last nerve ending, and since Clooney left, ER is a shell I tell ya), but every show bore the stamp of a corporate memo from some asshole who thought it'd be nifty to pay homage to the ultra-preachy religion of environmentalism by requiring each program to throw environmental grit into it's comedy gears. Bring back "Muslim Week!" Anything.

Hey, broadcasters! Guess what? Environmentalism = shit programming. You want to ruin a TV channel? Find another one. Get some puppets. Put the logo on candy wrappers. Kids don't care. They're stupid and will watch anything. But as an adult, after a hard day of trying to find more work, I want to sit down to some raunchy entertainment, and laugh at it until my bladder has emptied. Why not start "Tom Green Week?" You'd sure win back a lot of people and still get them to think of green.

Even Al Gore showed up to mock himself on 30 Rock, and before you imagine yourself giving a collegial pat on the back to ole Albert for being so open-minded, ask yourself this. What's his deal? He's always popping up on comedy shows to mock his image, yet he's mocking the same rhetoric he makes at serious functions. It's really strange the pretzels that people become when they try to reconcile their politics with their personal behavior.

I suppose we're in for a lot of that in the next year, what with Ms. Rodham trying to get her "husband" Bill a 3rd term. What's Your Story #3 starts the countdown to next November with the results of a new Hillary Clinton survey that busts right through the bread and into the meaty center of this shit sandwich of a campaign.

Also, Amy Winehouse presents her peer-reviewed journalistic singing about the effects of cocaine and liquor mixed regularly inside of a skinny young lady, and has Dog the Bounty Hunter become Dog the N*****R Hunter? Check it out Friday morning on What's Your Story?" I'll have the video here, too, when the Turner Studios people have posted it.

WILL WORK FOR MONEY

An associate of mine called me from his car as he was driving around Los Angeles. I could hear shouting in the background.

"What's that noise?"

"I'm stopped at a light and the writers are protesting."

"Are they protesting you?"

"I'm not sure."

"What are they shouting?"

"4 Cents on a DVD? Are you kidding me?"

All those Hollywood writers, and that's the best they could do?  Wow. Might want to first do a table read next time before hitting the streets, fellas.

If 4 cents per DVD in residuals sucks, then what's good? 5 cents? 50 cents? How many writers are worth even the 4 cents?

Now before this strike gets out of hand and all but guarantees that our favorite TV shows will be gone for awhile, and that every movie next summer will be about exploding robots, I would like all Hollywood and TV people reading this to know something.

It would really be unfair to Americans who depend on Jimmy Kimmel and 30 Rock for sustenance to go without them.

I just want you to know that on "What's Your Story?" I write the whole show. I know it's not long, but bear in mind that I also direct it, I find all the video, I do all the editing, and the swirly computer graphics.

I recorded the theme music in my basement with a full orchestra, which is my hobby.

I bring in the lights and camera from home that I paid for out of my own money.

I'm the real deal, and I'd love to be your scab. If those other guys don't want the job, for whatever reason. I'm happy to take it. 

I even bought my own work clothes.

Email me for my digits.

DOTDOTDOTDOTTERINGOLDFOOL

How about that Larry King? Claims he was swindled out of 15 mil in an insurance scam. I'm willing to bet it happened during his show, too. Go through the tapes and see if a caller ever pitched him on life insurance. You'll see.

How can you ever believe any of Larry King's interviews anymore? He's obviously gullible. He has such a tangible lack of judgment. What kind of trustworthy person with a passion for "what makes people tick" loses 15 MILLION DOLLARS? Good luck to him trying to get another taste of his 40-year old poonie from here on out.

There's no telling what kind of monkey business with the truth his guests are going to pull now. Next thing you know, Jeanine Garofalo will convince him that she's the new president of  Burma. For the love of Ariel Sharon! He's gonna have to have at least 4 guests now for every show about a controversial topic to make sure the truth is covered somewhere. Oh, wait!

What was long suspected has now been confirmed. Larry King IS a highly developed praying mantis...from Brooklyn.

In honor of Larry's style, this Larry is going to do that Larry's type of random thoughts dotdotdot blog entry, and also I must  finish up and hand in this week's What's Your Story scripts, so little time to waste. Man, I love when bloggers publish excuses for why they're not handing out more of their work for FREE to you slobs. Don't you?

DOTDOTDOTDIRT

Why is a brown lawn considered being green? Why are people who are in favor of being green AGAINST greenhouse gasses? It's right there --g-r-e-e-n- house. Mighty, Mighty.

DOTDOTDOTONTHELOT

I got a call today for another extra part in a Tyler Perry production. This time, I'm up for the part of "FBI MAN." That's all I know. My guess is that I'm not a good guy.

I'm 2 for 2 now with the Tyler Perry people. They love me. Maybe I'll get a few lines soon. Maybe the "FBI MAN" will have to bodily restrain Nia Peeples or Pebbles or some hottentot hottie of that level. Yum!

The other TP production I was in was "Why Did I Get Married?" now showing in hotel rooms across America. Go see it. I'm not. My wife suggested we pay good money to go to the theater to catch the back of my jacket scooting along behind the actors in a scene that may not even have made it, because it didn't sound that funny when they were doing it. No, I'm going to steal the DVD from Blockbuster like I always do when I feel I'm entitled to do so.

DOTDOTDOTHEAD

Pakistan is being overcome with Al-Qaeda and Taliban vermin again, and has suspended their constitution...like they really had one. It bears repeating that the only way to bring the democratic process to their shores is to force them into a new religion. I'm a little biased, but I say the best thing is to convert them all to Judaism. It's a halfway house to the Christianity they need but is too strong a dose of sanity and humility for them right now. They can still avoid pork products if they wish, and have big noses, while they practice calm and try to wriggle free from the steel grip of the 10th century.

Round 'em all up and give 'em a choice. We cut off your head or your foreskin. Yee ha!

THE MIGHTY QUIM

TV host Lori Wilson of Philadelphia's channel 10 is 33 years old and doesn't know the meaning of the word 'muff.' How refreshing.

Then comes my second favorite part of the bit when the male co-host tries to change the subject by announcing that the Eagles won, and the camera pans to an audience of old ladies who couldn't tell you what NFL stands for.

Lori, muff is a word for vagina and “shaving off my muff for you” means that a young woman has made the decision to shave her vagina hairs completely in order to attract the man of her dreams who happens to have pedophelic tendencies.

Is that a bad thing to say on morning TV? Not really. I remember when I first heard the song Jumpin Jack Flash.

I thought they were singing, “Jumpin’ Jack Flash, stupid TV gash.” But they weren't. 

THE NEW LITELLAS

Get ready, America.

Friday 10/19 is the official debut of Wachs hosting the festivities on "What's Your Story?" the new commentary program from Superdeluxe.com.

I'll be posting the links and the embed code for people who want put it on their blogs and get a free SuperDeluxe.com t-shirt for their effort in co-operating with my agenda..

We'll be tackling the Al Gore Peace Prize, not tackling a naked man captured in NYC, PLUS our Blowback segment where some dude is angry right out of the box because of opinions I expressed in the promos for the show. Not even one episode, and the email whiners are a-whinin', and the email bitchers are bitching.  Anyway, that and more in a tidy 3 minutes we call "What's Your Story?" debuting Friday morning on Superdeluxe.com

Make sure you send in your stories and comments for next week to whatsyourstory@superdeluxe.com and maybe get your name announced on the world wide internet! Ain't that a hoot?

I hope you won't find the show as disgraceful as this:

During yesterday's taping, which I like to call "filming" in front of the crew because it makes them feel superior, one of the producers kept throwing Ann Coulter jokes at me, hoping I would find one of them useful in the episode. They were funny, but they weren't things I would say.

I told him that I really didn't see what the big deal was about her remark that Jews are not "perfected."

It's not an insult. This whole pseudo-controversy reminds me the way those complete nimrods on the DC City Council reacted some years ago when the mayor used the word "niggardly" to describe a budget proposal. In short order, every person the public schools ever educated in the dark arts of grievance culture in lieu of basic English, rushed to a waiting microphone to denounce the racism of a person who said nothing about race. Mayor Barry got more respect for smoking crack.

For those of you still nursing a grudge, "niggardly" means stingy and applies to black people as much as Spic and Span does to Mexicans. That's Sarcasmese for "not at all." Stop me if I'm writing too fast for you.

Christians don't get all riled up when Jews call themselves The Chosen People.^TM I'm sure it's mildly annoying to other religions much in the same manner as when Islamics claim Islam the official religion of peace and the Olympics, when it's so utterly obvious that it is not, so lighten up, Tevye.

You'd have to be really on something prescription strength to not see that Christians think that Christianity is the best religion on earth and everything else is not. Christians think that they completed, through their belief in Jesus as the messiah, what the Jews had started in the Old Testament. Without that belief, there is no point to Christianity, so what Ann said is really no more shocking than noticing that the sky is up.

Yet the media exalts emotional cripples and illiterates, such as that vaginized embarrassment to all of the Hebraic faith, Donny Deutsch. He hunts for outrage and sets lures for offense which once captured, sets the outrage hunter and his like-minded friends to ramble on and on about it like an army of Emily Litellas, but unlike Emily Litella, not having the decency to sheepishly issue a "never mind,"  when they discover their misinterpretation. No wonder people think Ann Coulter is a man. She's constantly interviewed by men with more feminine traits than her.

Seriously, Donny. When you ask Ann Coulter what her America would be like, do you expect her to say that everyone should be a Jewish Democrat? That whole Phil Donahue persona is really out of date. There's no man on earth who cares that much what a woman has to say. Especially one who sits there in a short skirt flashing her roast beef sandwich at you.

And what about that poor Ellen Degeneres? My, oh my.

As a self-serving twit myself, I admire the use her TV show to fix her personal problems. It's the right thing to do.

She seems genuinely upset here and is no doubt the victim of the heartbreak of bureaucracy. The animal welfare zealots should give her hairdresser the dog back. Some rules are begging to be broken because they're inane and overriding them bears no obligation on someone else.

If nothing else, it will keep the hairdresser away from Ellen's hair while she brings in someone who gets their styling ideas from other than women's fast-pitch softball magazines. Then again, Ellen is not usually the feminine one in her relationships. I wonder if she'd date Donny Deutsch?

Ellen's got herself hoist on her own thingy, I'm afraid.  I've never actually seen a petard, so it would be wrong of me to act like I knew what it was. It's animal enthusiasts like herself that set up the rules of adopting pets and have succeeded in elevating animals legal status to roughly that of a Terry Schaivo.

And so Ellen innocently agrees to rules set up to ensnare OTHER people. Those rules are for the non-believers. People who refuse to buy sweaters for their dogs and don't freshen the litter box fast enough for Jingles Fauntleroy. God forbid such people should ever own these four-legged dieties.

"It's all for the good because we're protecting the animals and treating them like the brain-damaged humans they deserve to be and one day we'll get them suffrage and...hey! Where are you going with my dog, officer? Hold on...Hold on...I gave her to GOOD people. Who appointed you the decider of who's good and who's bad? Oh, wait...

_{...never mind".}

A CHANGE WILL DO YOU GOOD

Biggest chuckle of the day: Going to my new job that Rodney Ho is not impressed at all with, I saw a guy pulled over on Buford Highway for speeding by a DeKalb County cop, and he was stopped right in front of a convenience store whose parking lot was the scene of a huge gathering of illegals looking for work. That would just kill my whole day. I'd go back to bed and cut my losses.

That's entrepeneurial justice right there. What will get the county the most money while expending the least amount of energy? Right? Wrong? What does that have to do with it? There's no money in expelling illegals these days from a DeKalb QT parking lot. Only headaches. And I promise that the City of Roswell will never see the $70 I've owed them for their red light cameras for the past 4 months no matter how much they kvetch. Get used to it. They'll only use it for liquor.

Second biggest chuckle: Rodney Ho asking me to describe my new job and saying "that's weird" after I did. It's not weird. It's unique and in it's infancy. You're not used to it. Neither am I. So, it could be a great new thing or a colossal screw-up. That's the fun of "change." You don't know how it's gonna turn out. Anyway, the promos should be online by week's end, and you'll make your own judgements.

Third biggest chuckle: The ironic possibility of being booked as a guest on a local morning show to promote the internet TV show. I'll bet no one in town has the guts to do it even though they all privately want me on their stations.

Now, a little glance at NEEEWWWSSS!

Bad Atlanta bridge riles baseball legend Hank Aaron

Former Major League Baseball home run king Hank Aaron says he'd like the city of Atlanta to do better by him and his neighbors.

This dilapidated bridge is located on Adams Drive just down the street from the home of former Major League Baseball king Hank Aaron. The cordoned-off area has become a favorite hangout spot for bored youths, Aaron maintains. The city acknowledges there's a problem, but says it doesn't have enough money to fix things anytime soon.

"It's just been one thing after another," said Aaron, whose 755 career home runs stood as baseball's benchmark until Barry Bonds surpassed it this summer. "[The bridge] has been downgraded to almost nothing really. The sad thing is, when I first moved here, [Adams Drive] was probably one of the prettiest streets we had."

My question is, why is Home Run King and Living Legend Hank Aaron living in such a shitty neighborhood? You'd think he'd move to a new pad by now instead of putting up with bored youths, broken bridges, and all the problems that dovetail from that.

Hank Aaron must be broke if he'll risk putting his address in the paper to get a bridge fixed. That's what's weird Rodney. He's in the Hall of Fame and has a BMW dealership.

Where are all the righteous dudes who say that Hank rules and Bonds is rotten? You'd think they'd help a victim out. At least Hank gets plenty of valuable lip service. I'll be at his home bright and early with a box of new baseballs to sign.

ELECTRIC AVENUE

Apparently, the Action News 33 Team has gathered all the evidence and drawn the conclusion that the cop did the wrong thing and should be punished. Interesting point. I watched the whole thing thinking, "Why doesn't this syphilitic hag just cooperate and leave the trial to the attorneys?"

I wonder how much needless violence such as this is the result of TV reporters encouraging and conditioning the toothless viewers of their Weekly Reader news presentations to challenge cops' authority without hesistation based on some infantile notion of rights as license to behave in any way imaginable.

Do you suppose there is any video of the innocent bystanders watching in horror in the control room as this cross-eyed Barbie J-school dimwit openly cheerleads for anarchy in the streets by drunken bovine female she-beasts who are pissed off that they didn't get to collect the $40 bucks from the illegal Mexican they were rimming? Fat fucking chance.

Hey! Don't forget....

NEW!!! At the House of Wachs Store

The "Don't Tase Me Bro" T-Shirt.

Happy Yom Kippur!

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!

THE DAY THE GAY CLOWN CRIED

Ohmigod! Jerry Lewis called someone a fag on the Labor Day Telethon!

You mean Jerry Lewis is an over-medicated, obnoxious, old Jew? When did that start?

OK, before everyone goes Imus on the bloated loon, bear in mind the guy helps cripples and I assert that outweighs the damage done by saying the word "fag," whatever that costs society, which is probably close to zero.

Anyway, call me crazy, but this slur may just work after all. The telethon set a new record this year, and it's because everyone is jumping on the new charity craze. Just look!

HOE NO!

I'd really like to see the audition tapes of these two.

Poise, control, timing, and non-retardation are the wrong qualities for overnights on a network. I will amend my own audition tapes accordingly.

Still, this does not mean that Owen Wilson trying to kill himself is something to take seriously.

WHOOPI THE GREEK

Whoopi Goldberg's first day strategy on "The View" was simple. Make people forget about Rosie. Good job, Brownie! Ya done it.

Watch Whoopi defend Michael Vick with the multi-cultural argument that all cultures are good.

Let's attempt the daunting task of untangling and counting all the errors in her statements. One might be tempted to save time by simply counting all her sentences or assume she was talking about a different Michael Vick, and leave it at that, but I've got some time.

"One of the things I haven't heard anybody say is "Ya know...from his background this is not an unusual thing for where he comes from."

This is a lie. Whoopi has heard someone say this. That's why she's repeating it as her own idea. What? You think she's an anthropologist and this happened to be her thesis paper she wrote during songs and commercials on her Lite Rock favorites syndicated morning show? Read on.

"Like cockfighting in Puerto Rico...there are certain things that are indicative to certain parts of our country."

Puerto Rico is not part of our country. The word is indigenous. Not indicative. Indigenous.

Dog-fighting is not indigenous to (or indicative of) any part of our country anymore than being a black lady with a Jewish name and dreadlocks is. Both are fringe outlaw groups that are rejected by most right-thinking Americans.

Joy Behar, with a thin ice tone, asks Whoopie what part of the country she is referring to.

"He's from the South. The Deep South...."

The word deep, in this context, is sanctimonious-speak for "scary." Southeastern VA is not the Deep South, geographically or emotionally. And who uses that term anymore, besides people still living in the 70s? BTW, Prof. Goldberg, dogfighting is illegal here in the Deep South, and it happens everyday in the Deep South Bronx across the river from your studio bubble, which IS indicative of your lack of knowledge of indigenous cultures.

The culture you are looking for is called "ghetto," and it's usually found around run down buildings within big American cities. Rent a car sometime and see if you don't belee me.

"For a lot of people, dogs are sport...and so I just thought it was interesting because it seemed like a light went off in [Vick's] head, when he realized that this was something that the entire country really didn't appreciate..."

Oh, the entire country, except Whoopie, missed that moment when Vick went on TV and said, "Geez, I had no idea this wasn't cool. I'm sorry." Why then, Prof. Goldberg,  did Vick hide the operation from law enforcement? Why did he lie to the NFL? The only light that went off in his head was the federal marshall's flashlight as he was served one night.

Side question. When is that light going to go off in Whoopi's head that Whoopi Goldberg is not appreciated by the entire country, either? Even Vick won't give her herpes. See Elizabeth next to you, Whoopi? She brushes her hair, bathes, puts on some make-up, wears a tight pink blouse to accentuate her excellent breasts. She has on nice accessories, and speaks quietly and thoughtfully. That's how a woman should act. Not like a cross-breed of Miles Davis and the Grinch.

Then, that articulation disorder with earrings, Barbara Walters, asks this loony question:

"So do you think he should not have been sentenced as he was, because, as you say, it goes with the territory?"

Vick will not be sentenced until December and Whoopi never said "it goes with the territory," Barbara. Dummy.

I think Barbara wanted to ask, "Whoopie. Are you saying that Vick should not suffer any consequences for his actions?"

So, why didn't she ask that? Barbara is terrified of black people. That's why.

Whoopi continues:

"If it had been someone from NYC, my feelings would be very different."

Actually, that's a true statement. Whoopi is more concerned with her shining socialist city on a hill getting a bad rap. Dog-killing and animal cruelty is OK with her as long as it perpetuates her favorite myths about the south, and by extension, the racist white people who create the conditions for black people to do bad things down there.

If you view NY through her Whoopi-colored glasses, it is a cultural shrine on par with the great European civilizations of history. No. Wait. Dammit! Manhattan IS a European city that just happens to be on these lowly shores and no matter how many bridges and tunnels you build you can never make NYC part of America.

I gave up when Barbara, who must have prepared herself for Whoopi's debut by incurring a head injury, started relating this to the Jon Benet Ramsey case, and everyone started flapping their gums around the table about one man's trash, etc. At least on Channel 11, Firfer and Cameron are trying to give away ASPCA puppies. They may be dull, but not ignorant.

USB NETWORK

A HOW viewer named Brandon writes:

Hey Larry,

I don't know if you watched the Monday Night Football game last night, but, I couldn't help but notice the number of references to the "Confederacy".... It made me wonder what they were getting at.

At one point the announcer was referencing Stone Mountain and the "Confederate Heroes" etched into stone.

After another break the golden domed capital was seen as the announcer was talking about how "Georgia was re-admitted to the union and was considered the Confederate Capital of the South and in many respects still is…."

Then, to top it all off, I have to watch Suzy "man face" Kolber asked some no-named mixed raced woman (having no relation to the football game) about whether or not race is the top dominating issue in the Vick debate in Atlanta. WHAT THE EFF? Am I reading too much into this or am I justified?

No Brandon, you are simply reacting to the parallel universe known as the Media Matrix. I'm gonna try to one up Limbaugh and his "Drive By Media" phrase here and coin a new one: The USB Media.

The USB Media. Plug and play. No thought necessary.

"Georgia, Vick, black, crime, punishment, game. Let's plug that into the machine and see what comes out...OK, let's go with the Confederate angle while we're down in Atlanta. That's still fresh."

I don't know. Maybe it's the Google Media. Well, Rush certainly has nothing to fear.

Sports journalists, by and large, are liberals just like their regular news colleagues. Sportswriters yearn to be taken seriously, but are too sophomoric to abandon the world of sports. A casual perusal at the work of Jeff Schultz, Mark Bradley, and Terence Moore in the local paper would classify them as political writers with a sports fetish, never sparing readers the opportunity to read their predictable and dated views of race, class, and sex.

If Title 9 discussions filled arenas and had free eats in the pressbox, you can be sure they'd skip the Super Bowl to cover it.

Meanwhile, the sports fan is cheated. Not only is he not getting any sports information, but also because more important stories are being overlooked by these red-herring chasers.

Look at this video from the recent Falcons-Bengals pre-season skirmish at the GA Dome Monday night.

Chris Mortensen, is busy filling up more airtime beating the dead dog of Vick's future and what it means for America (at least they spared us a Katrina anniversary special and what it means for the welfare stooges in New Orleans).

Look behind him.

Freddie the Falcon is beating the shit out of some kid. I mean hammering the tyke. Revenge of the animals? Was the kid's father a cockfighting Mexican in the MLS? We'll never know because Mort has cruelly turned his back on the incident.

And if what Vick did was so awful, why are these hypocrites criticizing Leona Helmsley for leaving her dog $12 million?

NEVERAMA

According to the internet, this is what I would look like as a Simpson:

Oof. Be careful what you wish for.

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.

RAGE IN FAVOR OF THE MACHINE

It's flattering. It's confusing. It's suspicious.

Here's Sunday night's blog about the Sopranos here or scroll down.

Now comes resident TV writer Jill Vejnoska in today's AJC.

Pretty close. Pretty...close.

I sense that someone has been enjoying this HOW website a little too vicariously. I could be right, I could be wrong, but as Tommy the Sage Tard once said about an object found on his front lawn, "Could be a paper, could be a bomb. You gotta be careful."

Anyway Jill, drop me a line or send a gift, and thank YOU for being you.

In other important trivial matters, let's turn our attention to Miss Kelly Clarkson who is playing the scorned lover role to sell her new CD, and the reporters just lap her sour milk up.

NEW YORK -Kelly Clarkson, who rails against a former flame in her new song "Never Again," says she's never been in love.

Poor dear. She dated a rat. Alanis Morrisette did this to much media admiration in 1995. They fell all over themselves telling audiences how Alanis was fucked over by some unnamed dude without ever questioning what Alanis did to deserve the fucking over. I know it's private, so then don't write a song about it if you don't want to be asked about it.

I don't know why people think it's proper for these chicks to write these one-sided victim songs designed to smear some specific person, and not get called on it. I don't know who this guy is, but lots of people close to Kelly Clarkson and in the music biz do, and that's gotta leave a mark on the guy's resume. Look what happened to Dave Coulier's career after Alanis' song came out. Even the Olsen Twins turned their bony backs on him.

"I love my friends and family," the Grammy-winning singer and original "American Idol" tells Elle magazine in its July issue. "But I have never said the words `I love you' to anyone in a romantic relationship. Ever."

I would like to know why. What's wrong with her? One-sided stories are dull. If you want my MP3 business, I have a right to know. Invite the former flame to record an answer song.

If Kelly Clarkson kissed and told on me, I'd find one of her rivals on the pop scene such as Bo Bice,  Daughtry, or Panic at the Disco! to help me record an album about why I broke up with her. I'd write hits such as "She Needs to Wash Down There Better,"  and "One Chromosome from Dwarfism" and "Almost A Mullet To Me,"  "Money Ain't Making Your Boobs Look Nicer." See which gets more downloads.

KELLY CLARKSON RAILING AGAINST FLAME

THE DAY AFTER THE DAY THE MUSIC DIED

It saddens me that it has come to pass that David Chase's post-Sopranos explanation of the last show is a top story on Drudge.

Millions of Mexicans pouring over our border with money nets in hand pales in comparison to the millions of domestic illiterates clamoring to be spoon fed the meaning of every piece of culture they cram into their brains. Might as well let Pedro and his brood in for good.

My god. The very idea that a TV show producer has to flee to France to avoid his upset followers because he failed to pack a knapsack full of closure for 15 million thumbsuckers and their individual views on how his TV show should have ended, just really sticks in my gullet.

As I pointed out yesterday, The Sopranos didn't end ambiguously.

OK, enough. I don't want to start down the path of being the self-anointed expert on all things Soprano. I've got a whole other non-career to deal with that doesn't pay, either. I'm just saying, is all. We need to start thinking about deporting more than Mexicans. I'm sad knowing I will die before ever hearing someone say, "That movie was great. Can't wait to read the book."

Just because I read books doesn't mean I'm superior to people who don't, although I am, to be objective about it. I have my weaknesses, too. Fajitas make me panic.

They come to the table spitting mad and sizzlingly pissed, and the waitress scurries to the table, all hazmatted to the shoulders with her professional grade oven mitts, because the restaurant industry hasn't found the technology to make the handle out of wood, and an armed escort from the Chili's Police Department. And it's scary for me, especially since I often doze off between ordering and eating, face down next to a formerly frosty beer stein.

The fajita parade ends slumber and I'm groggy and it looks like someone is attacking me with a plate full of angry vipers. I panic for a second. Then it's a mad scramble to clear space on the table to give the fajitas the wide berth they need. Like mom's coming up the stairs while you're masturbating. I really think fajita eaters should get their own table. Once you've ordered fajitas, you're escorted to a private fajita room, the size of a walk in closet, with a table, some towels, a guard, and maybe a stripper pole, and you are brought your chow in there.

And by "fajita eaters," I mean people of all colors who literally enjoy eating the dish known as the fajita, and not a racist slur against a people of a certain country. Hey, gotta spoon-feed it. Look at what happened to the last guy who went out ambiguous. I don't have the cash to flee to France.

..Yet.

I've been hatching a great money-making scheme just in time for Father's Day. I'm sending Father's Day cards to wealthy elderly men with bad, at risk, troubled, foolish sons, hoping they'll be touched enough by my thoughtfulness to consider my request for their hand in holy patrimony and sticking my name in the will. All it takes is one. Real Dad, don't be jealous. We'll cut a side deal where I come back after my adopted father's death.

I recently sent a card that says "Be My Sugar Daddy This Father's Day," to Tim Conway, Sr. the father of my good pal for a number years, Tim, Jr. I've always enjoyed Tim Jr's carefree and easygoing manner that obviously stems from knowing that he has a rich dad who cares about him very much. Here's his dad running over his granddaughter with a remote control car.

See? Nothing gets in the way of their relationship. Not even a 3 year old.  I want to be a part of that scene.

I even sent him a little gift for good measure; a sweet TV/VCR combo unit with a copy of "The Best of McHale's Navy" put in the VCR. What's not to love?

Anyone know Rick Hilton's address? Michael Lohan? Shabba Ranks? I'm sure he has some lethal offspring.

THE BEST SOPRANOS COMMENTARY EVER

Might as well dive in and stake my claim in the decades long debate that just commenced this evening about the Sopranos ending, which I thought was perfect and made a lot of sense.

Kick the break room oracle in the nuts who says....

"They're just doing it to make a movie."

"What a cop out."

"That was cool how they played Journey."

"I didn't get it."

"That guy who went into the bathroom came out and whacked him."

What's wrong with people who have watched this show for 9 years and at the end they are pissed that everything wasn't wrapped up neatly? Were they paying attention at all? Suddenly this show should throw out all it's incredibly detailed structure and tone and pacing to be like Mary Tyler Moore where everyone says a tearful goodbye at the Bing and then gets shot? What did you think of the Bible's ending? Did it suck too? I'm curious.

Tell me with a straight face that the mounting dread you felt at the end was forgettable. Tell me you didn't say "goddamn cable," and scramble for the remote at the end when the screen went blank only to stare at the credits in disbelief. You got whacked.

That's bad television? What would have been good TV? Freeze frame on each character with a title card telling what happened to them?

MEADOW ran unsuccessfully for US Senator from NJ in 2025, and is now divorced. She is the head of the North Caldwell MADD chapter after her son, Christopher, was killed by a drunk driver.

How interesting.

It's a show about mid-life crisis as much as the mob, and It goes on and on and on and on. It don't stop...until It does, and then It goes on and on and on. You know the ending. Stop pretending, start believing.

"It's all a big nothing," said Livia in Season 1. Tony IS dead. Not physically, but dead nonetheless. He's trapped in a dead end life. A life of constant dread and certainty that nothing good is coming. Eating and going through the motions of control to kill time until time kills him. It's the big nothing.

Maybe the same can be said for us all and perhaps it touched a nerve with the instant gratifiers in the audience.  It's a tough concept to contemplate this demise of ours. Easier and more comforting to simply say, "Well that sucked," and pack another shit sandwich to eat at the office on Monday. Each day is a gift, you know.

John From Cincinnatti...now that blows.

POOR ME

Maron! This is the paperwork from a recent purchase at Borders Books.

That's just for one latte. Thank god I didn't sign up for the Borders discount club card. I'd have to consult an attorney.

I bought Sopranos #5 and #6, when I was there. I haven't done much lately except sit on my ass and go on a job interview, and I received the gift of bronchitis from some attorney flying against CDC orders, so I've pretty much just stayed indoors and laid down all week concentrating on one project which keeps me busy. Since Sunday is the final night "ever" of The Sopranos, I've embarked on the mission of watching the first 6 seasons back to back.

I'm almost finished Season 1. Gandolfini is thinner, his accent is less pronounced, although he starts hitting his stride with it by episode #2. Joseph Gannascoli and Drea De Matteo first appear as other characters.

The Drea appearance is plausible because she's billed generically as "restaurant hostess" and then appears down the road a bit as Cristufuh's date and is billed as "Adriana" for the first time, so Cristufuh obviously hooked up with her sometime from Monday to Saturday, when the show was off the air, but the characters were still living their lives, and they became an item a couple episodes later.

Gannascoli's first appearance is a head scratcher, though.  He doesn't appear as a gay or any other type of mobster. He plays Gino, a bakery customer who is shooed away from the bakery before Christufuh shoots the clerk in the foot. Why would such a detail-oriented show cast a guy in a big part after he played the total opposite in the first season? Likely they didn't know at the time the show would go anywhere or for how long, or they knew no one except me would care years later.

I admire how the first few episodes weren't glaringly different in pace and tone from recent ones. That's usually not the case with most shows even of high caliber. The first Seinfeld episodes are painful to watch compared to the classic sense of how we remember the show. Same with the Simpsons. The pace is much slower, editing is looser, characters less developed. On the commentary track of Seinfeld's first season, Jerry is cringing at watching the pilot.

After re-watching and gaining new insights and clues into the themes and characters, I'm going to predict that Tony Soprano will be dead at the end of Sunday night's episode, as he should. Dr. Melfi is the god figure in the show. She's pulled the plug on their sessions, and every episode gives us evidence that Tony doesn't want to be in his life, so I'm calling curtains for Ant'ny. Hey, it's James Gandolfini that's likable. Tony Soprano is an animal.

Welp, back to the tube. Time's a wastin.

OH, HELLO!

Let's look back on the week, because I'm too damn tired to think up new stuff. I haven't made a fresh observation in 36 hours. I'm saving it all up for another week on Free-FM in NY, where I've been held over by popular demand. They seem to like the House of Wachs experience here at CBS. Creditors: I'll be home to pay my bills soon. Busy making the $. Sorry. XOXO.

During the week's continuing assault on talk radio, this one went under the radar. Probably because the perp was black. From the (NY) Daily News:

And comedian Donnell Rawlings also lost his job on New York's Power 105.1 FM station last week after he was suspended for making an anti-Semitic remark - reportedly saying "a cheap black guy" should be better known as "a Jewish black guy."

He reportedly said it. Well, did he? If not, then why was he fired? Did Imus "reportedly" say NHH? Did JV&E "reportedly" call a Chinese restaurant and slur them? No, because they are white, and everybody knows whites are mean.

To Donnell Rawlings, I'm inclined to say you are correct, but, too bad. You are also black. This double standard does not accrue to you. Out of a job? Tough darts. I like all these openings. I'm going to start taking the places of all you cheap, lazy, Lenny Bruces making too much money for your skill grade.

I'm not that offended because I know Donnell speaks from jealousy because Jews have a culture that acheives rings around his. You won't see us throwing our money away on street dice. We don't shoot guns in the air to celebrate the new year. We don't pay MSRP. Jews are magic. Aw-main.

I saw Tony Bennett on the way to work Thursday morning. He looked healthy and hearty fpr a man his age and looked striking in his birght blue and red tracksuit. That must be his youth secret. Walk every day in a cheery tracksuit.

I said hello and he immediately looked scared. He quickened his pace and gave a sideways, "Hello," back at thee. John Hogan looked similar when I gave him a friendly hello and short chat up on 6th Avenue later that day. I can understand that since I was dumped from his company, and what are the odds he'd see me in NY unless I was stalking him? But, I assured him I was not and merely taking a lunchtime stroll after another day on the air.

I took a good hard look in the mirror, nude, to figure out why I creep people out so often. You know what it is? I look like my shit DOES stink. Some people can pull off the non-stinky shit look, but I can't. No matter how I groom, no matter how I dress, these beady eyes make even family uneasy.

So I didn't bother to say hello to Martha Stewart at the Long Island Bat Mitzvah I was invited to. How could that have possibly turned out well? I just wanted to be a good guest. After all, the Long Island Bar/Bat Mitzvah is a venerable institution. To be invited to one is equal to being invited to play a round at Pebble Beach or Augusta. Great books have been written about them.

My favorite American Idol was last week. It's the one where the final 3 go back to their hometowns so the cameras can capture their reconnection with reality. I like it when a kid is being honored at his hometown shopping mall where only months before, he was being chased for loitering and smoking. Then they go to their high school, and the local Fox affilliate, and the governor's mansion, and the local Star DJ ("Hey, how crazy is this for you? What's it like?") The whole time, it's slowly dawning on the contestant that they have forfeited most of their privacy for several decades, if they are any good.

Melinda got beat by a better set of teeth. Her singing is more polished, adult, and heavy than the other two. I don't think she's gonna starve though, and should invest in a new set of choppers with her recording money. Jordin is a fair singer. Nothing that some digital manipulation can't prop up. Her teeth are world class. I'd like to date them. Just her teeth. When she's of age, maybe the rest. If her mouth is that spot on, you know she cares for her vagina just as well. I'd also like to make love to her orthodontist.

Simply based on how every story in the liberal media is about how Giuliani is a liar, hypocrite, or general fuck-up, I'd say he's going to be our next president. I started to watch the Republican debate, but then I realized it's not even the summer of 2007, and the whole event is a stellar waste of time, not even of interest to people in New Hampshire or Iowa. I've decided to vote for Hillary anyway so the steady drip of socialism will finally reach a climax and we can get about finding new homes and jobs in New Zealand. Why drag things out for 8, 12, 25 more years?

Jerry Falwell is dead and gays miss their punching bag terribly already.

Matt Foreman, executive directorof National Gay and Lesbian Task Force, extended condolences to those close to Falwell, but added: "Unfortunately, we will always remember him as a founder and leader of America's anti-gay industry, someone who exacerbated the nation's appalling response to the onslaught of the AIDS epidemic, someone who demonized and vilified us for political gain and someone who used religion to divide rather than unite our nation."

OK, welllll, he's dead. You're still alive and so is the gay.industry. You won, Gay Matt. So why do you still have to make hostile remarks? That guy showed tremendous courage in never caving into the thought police. So stop whining about how he wouldn't let you be gay, because you are and he's dead. Move on, sassypants.

For balance, let's take a look at nutty heterosexuals. The news from Pittsburgh is that an 84-year old billionaire is marrying a 22-year old woman...or is it the other way around? Who's zooming who? I think they both know what they're getting into, but Pops may have one last trick up his sleeve and plans on living until age 120. I sure would love to see the look on Miss Gravy Train's face when he turns 100.

That is one of the badly kept secrets of male physical fitness. They want to be able to do this. Eat more fish to eat more tacos, amigo. That's what I always say. I always get a chuckle when I see men running in a row of treadmills. It's like they're racing to a future 25 year old.

The Fisher/Buttafuoco romance rekindled here in NY for the benefit of TV cameras, when Amy and Joey went out on a date this past week. Who knew having sex with a minor could be so lucrative? If this works out, maybe we can look forward to seeing Michael Jackson paint the town red with some of his molestation victims when they turn 21. Break out the Jesus Juice, America. Could OJ's confession be far behind...Oh, wait.

MEALWATCH 46

Time to decide on dinner. Why is something so pleasurable so agonizing in it's planning? Fresh thinking is in order.

I'll let the TV decide for me. Everyone else does. The first ad I see for a local food place on whatever channel is tuned, is where I'm going. This is exciting not having to make choices for yourself. I feel like a kid again. A very young kid. In diapers.

Channel 46 news is on. No food ads yet, but an overhyped story about a Paulding County dimwit who owned a lot of weapons and explosives in his garage and was busted.

After the overheated lead, we learn that he was not arrested on weapons charges, and his estranged spouse turned him in. Sounds like a harmless guy getting hassled because he and his lady are going through nasty times. Channel 46 makes it sound like he's the next McVeigh. He should have shot her while he had the chance.

I must watch 46 news more often. Their anchors aren't any more or less autistic-behaving than the others, but Cynne Simpson is very rubable. This is an advantage in a town where the TV news women average a 5 in looks.

Next story about the anniversary of MLK's death. Not news. They rehash the whole James Earl Ray non-controversy(he did it...alone) with some civil rights dummies in full revision mode whining for the 5th year in a row about how James Earl Ray got a raw deal, and now that he has rotted to death in prison, they have such love and respect for this ignorant cracker.

"He was an excapegoat!" says one fool. I look at my daughter and she at me with non-verbal disbelief.

Commercials now, finally. I crave caloric intake. This is hard core consumerism. The ads will tell me where to eat.

Rooms-to-Go.

Car Insurance.

Pest Control.

Cars.

No restaurants. Damn. It's the dinner hour. Where are the restaurant ads? I hope Ruby Tuesday's new Prime Burger has purchased airtime. I anticipate the next break.

Weather in Your Neighborhood time! They have B-roll of a prison behind Gene Norman. I guess they need weather reports, too. It dawns on me why there have been no food commercials in the past 20 minutes. The audience for TV news has dwindled to the incarcerated, the elderly, and the immobile. Dinner time for this crowd was an hour ago. Being part of the mainstream puts at me risk for starvation.

Jackson-Hewitt is in trouble. The nationally known tax prep service is being charged with fraud. What kind of fraud? Dunno. Typical stop and stare news story illustrated with footage of the camera zooming in on a Jackson-Hewitt sign in a strip mall somewhere, over and over. Is this one of the problem stores? Don't say. They just zoom in on the sign repeatedly until the narration is done. Good hustle! Great job of informing. I'm so hungry now that I consider eating at the YUM YUM CAFE next to the zoomed in on Jackson-Hewitt in the strip mall.

Recapping our lead story: The Bert Show on Q100 is in trouble. They're being blamed for a traffic nightmare that started at 2am on I-20 near Six Flags after they advertised free entry to the park for Spring Breakers from 6-9am. The local media is being terribly unfair to Bert and his radio station. It's a good promotion. It worked. Many people showed up.

The news acts as if Bert just decided to announce this on the spur without any consultation with his staff or management. I heard about this days ago and I'm not a regular consumer of the station. Why weren't local authorities or the park prepared? Did they not know that when a station with a demographic rich in young single motherhood says that a day of Six Flags would be free for the taking during Spring Break that they would have a Ganges-style scene on their hands if they didn't prepare? Did they not know that when something that normally costs $50 becomes free for a limited time, many people will want it?

I think the other media get so jealous when radio stations have the power to move people. They lose their collective minds. The blame here belongs squarely on the shoulders of Six Flags and Cobb County. I hope Bert's employers don't roll him under the rollercoaster to appease the greedy, jealous people who are criticizing him. That show is one of the few bright spots for people who think that local radio should be about local things talked about by local people. Wait, what am I saying? I hate that. I want 50 songs repeated intensively while a hayseed sitting in Birmingham tells me what's going on at Phillips Arena tonight and the forecast. Bad fingers! Stop typing lies.

Sports time. A live shot from the Masters is bungled by lousy audio. They cut to the pretaped report about the Masters and--get this scoopage--people are flocking from all over the US! I would eat that ugly woman from Rochester's hat right now if I could, I'm so hungry. Get to the commercials, goddamit! Not yet. There's much more sports news. The Thrashers are practicing! Let's ask them who will win the Masters. Every Thrasher has a face intensely mangled by hockey, and an accent mangled by Canada. Scott Mellanby is rooting for Stewart Cink because they are neighbors in Sugarloaf. Fifty bucks says those two also tag teamed Melissa Wolf and her buddy at the Sugarloaf whorehouse at some point. It keeps my appetite at bay.

Commercials.
More furniture.
Cars.
Insurance

Chick-Fil-A?....Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

The hell with this. I'm not eating at that shithouse for a man-sized dinner-style appetite. Inspired by the Thrashers' faces, I head to the supermarket and purchase some pounded-thin veal for piccata.

----------

CORRECTION FROM A READER:

Please don't add another blight to us in DeKalb; Six
Flags is in Cobb County.

If it were in DeKalb the name would have been changed
by now - perhaps to:

Vernon Jones' Sit n' Spin Park

or

Nappy Valley (no offense to Penn State or any popular
vineyard)

Regards,

RC

(The correction has been made above. Apologies go to all who were deeply offended by this error. LW)

MORE HOUSE OF WACHS TIME CAPSULE

Let's hop in the DeLorean once again and set the meter for Summer of 2003. We have here some in a series of Braves pieces I did for Fox Sports South. I don't think these have been widely seen having been aired an average of once on a low-rated cable show during one summer, never to be seen again. I had to dig through a lot of boxes in the House of Wachs Time Capsule to find some discs.

Hey, TV people! Watch these and then gimme me a goddamn job already! I didn't edit them, else they'd be even better.

This one is called "Fivel Chaim"

That's right. 2003, nosebag. Remember that when you start whining about how I ripped off Borat.

I wanted to do more of these but after the angry response by the Diamondbacks, I was asked to quietly kill the Chaimster. Cost me as it turns out. Risks are usually worth taking, gang, even if you get clipped once in a while. If you don't do it, someone else will.

I really don't know what the Diamondbacks got angry about. The worst thing that happened was that dumb ballplayers looked like dumb ballplayers. I thought they looked very likable, especially the way they treated me as if I were somewhat retarded. Very poignant. They never did specify what made them so mad, but my guess is that the lower level functionaries at these big sports/entertainment businesses hate surprises. It means they have to explain to their bosses what happened, whether it turned out OK or not. These are people who are better-suited for mall security and other CYA jobs. But they get hired, not for their creativity, but for their abilities to guard intellectual property, speak a middlebrow version of English, and own a couple of clean suits.

Whoever the interview broker/cockblocker for the D-Bags was, most assuredly got his fruit bowl cleaned the next morning by his manager who wanted to know how actual entertainment was allowed to happen down in the clubhouse and how, although nothing bad happened, well, something coulda!

Here are a couple that almost put me in Grady Hospital.

This is called "The Disposable Car."

It's based on a concept we discussed on the Regular Guys radio show sometime back. I thought it would be cool to get a beat up hoopty and go to a Braves game in it knowing that you didn't care about your vehicle. Think how liberating that is. Going to a major event and being able to park anywhere you wish. So we did it with an old Ford LTD, and again with a bread truck. We got great audio of cops stopping us for parking in employee zones, and stadium neighbors throwing bottles at us for leaving it on their lawn. Fox naturally had concerns about filming themselves doing anything borderline criminal, so I agreed to modify it to an comic expose of scalpers.

"They're animals. Let them lose their souls," said one Fox producer, Phil Tattaglia.

That actually made it less dangerous for the network, but more dangerous for me. Oh, yeah, great idea. Why don't I make it safer for YOU guys by actually engaging in conversation with the people I'm angering instead of running away?

When that guy got in the car, I felt for sure it was over, comforted only in the fact that the camera would catch the culprit and our justice system would sentence him to the fine and community service that he so richly deserves. 

And here's "Beanball."

I had a bruise on my back the size of a grapefruit for 2 weeks after this. I want to thank the Braves who were involved in this episode for saving my life. They insisted they wouldn't do it unless I used one of those softer balls for tee-ballers and other feminized youth. They were right. I'd be dead. Not that they really cared about me. It was more to protect the sweet gig they had being major leaguers. I still thank them and value their selfish judgement.

There's more in the HOW Time Capsule. But not now. I am sleepy.

DON'T YOU WISH YOUR GIRLFRIEND COULD COOK LIKE ME?

Damn. I fell asleep in the middle of watching The Search for the Next Pussycat Doll last night. It's American Idol as produced by the Mafia. The set is even designed like a New Jersey strip club.

I drifted off where Chelsea or somebody was in an argument with another girl over forgetting lines to a song. That's a pretty hard thing to do since most of the songs are "my hump my hump...hump my lady lumps" types and nursery rhymy disco melodies. It's like forgetting how to chew food. So if anyone knows what happened, drop me a line. Who was made to hang up their boa last night?

Meanwhile this Sandgina Malakar on American Idol keeps hanging on despite having less stage presence and likability than William Hung, and I'm getting fed up with it. Why doesn't he just become a girl and get it over with? He wants to be one. I rest only because I know that no producer of a show of that caliber will let this go on for very long despite what the merry pranksters at various websites are trying to do. That's right, they will cheat to make sure that Sandygina gets kicked off the show and soon, no matter the vote. Why wouldn't they? Who's gonna know?

I'll tell you what, though. If the untenable does happen and Sandgina does make it past either of the two good black female singing women, you can blame the Quiz Show Scandals of the 50s for that. Damn do-gooders got their panties in a wad that some shows were rigged for better drama. Who's hurt? No one. Even the loser gets free parting gifts and lots of sexual attention for being famous from TV.

They've shut down payola and plugola so a guy can't make some extra bucks anymore. Now everything has to be petty corruption free, so Americans won't be misled that they are watching something exciting. This leads to the distinct possibility that in a couple of months American youth will vote as their idol a scared teenager who doesn't even know what sex he wants to be.

I'm going back to watch Pussycat Dolls again next week. They know what they are...and they like it.

Some notes from last week's road trip....

I want to thank the DOTs of both NC and Virginia for reminding me on their jumbotron signs over the highway to reset my clock forward and change the batteries on my smoke alarm. Thanks, but what does this have to do with DRIVING? I wonder if they are preparing a "Pay your taxes" sign for mid-April. I'd like to request a Christmas shopping days countdown around Thanksgiving.

Bumper sticker: "I love my credit union." Everyone loves something, I guess.

I don't like credit and I don't like unions, and that's why I park my big cash legal settlements in a regular bank. I've never used a credit union ever, but I know people who swear by them. They must have better snack items in the lobby. My Wachovia barely has furniture in it. However,  there's one every block, and it's really just day care for cash so I never go in. Just use the ole computer box and send portions of it flying off to some Japanese people every month.

Aside from a blatant bumper sticker show of affection, the best way to spot a credit union person is at the grocery store checkout, where you will find them in their natural habitat. At the front of the line writing checks and waiting for them to be approved while everyone else with an ATM or credit card waits with melting frozen food.

According to the announcer on Sirius Radio's Classic Vinyl channel (16, I believe), the music they play on that channel "liberated a generation." I must disagree. It actually entrapped 4 generations with brain dead ideas, such as "war is wrong," "guns are bad," "pesticides are evil," "poor people are the best." Unless you are talking about the music they played at abortion clinics after 1973. That music certainly did help liberate several generations from having to bear any of the burdens of life.

I keep getting called by a recording from East Paulding High School telling me my son was absent from school today. I appreciate the heads up and I'm glad you're looking out for the safety of my children, except I don't have a son or anything that resides in  Paulding County, so take my number off your list.

If they call again, I will post the number here so readers can have a good time with it.  I can't find it now. It scrolled off my received call list after another day of fielding calls from friendly car dealers who won't give me the price quote I requested on the internet. Exactly one salesman out of 10 has bothered so far to do what I axed and give me detailed price quotes on the cars I'm interested in. The rest have been variations on,"Looking forward to meeting you. We do have the car you're looking for. Come in anytime." Very helpful. I wasn't sure if you had any cars left or you were open anymore. Thanks for the note.

Here's an interesting tidbit of data about me I just discovered while trying to find the East Paulding number. I've cumulatively talked on my current cell phone for 342 hours, 47 minutes, 52 seconds. That compresses to two weeks of non-stop talking. How interesting and meaningless is that at the same time?

Peteetong! y'all.

A PROUD COLONY OF ARTISTS

Oscars tonight. Who will win for biggest asshole? Al Gore? Mel Gibson? Dixie Chicks? Oh yeah. They already got their award for best politics at the Grammys. Do you actually have to produce any art that people want to consume to win awards these days? I think pretty soon someone will get an Oscar solely for their political views and bypass the whole recording process.

"And the Oscar for Best Picture goes to.....Hillary Clinton for repealing the Bush tax cuts for the rich!"

I only watch now so I can see if my phoned in security threats actually have any effect. Every year I buy a pre-paid off brand cell phone at Costco and call in some sort of security threat to the Red Carpet, and watch on TV to see if they panic and people get trampled. Last year, I called and said I was going to throw cuts of pork and beef at all the pale skinny actresses in protest of their vegetarianism and being poor role models for many nervous teenage girls.

And I watch for the fashions.

The only nominated movies I've seen are The Departed and Little Miss Sunshine, and seeing them win awards can only be frustrating and infuriating. The former because it was wildly over-rated.  And the latter, because it was so good it makes me jealous.

The idea of rooting for a film in which you have no creative or financial interest to be rewarded with a trophy of a nude gold man is an odd cultural vanity. The person rooting for the film is having his tastes validated by seasoned showbiz professionals.

"I'm rooting for Jennifer Hudson because I voted for her on American Idol. I know talent."

Actually, I do hope Little Miss Sunshine wins so it'll convince Hollywood studios to beef up the comedy offerings. And why is "Borat" not nominated for Best Picture? It's a phenomenon. It's certainly as much a brand of genius as is "Marty" Scorsese, whose genius, alas, was over a generation ago. Let's catch up with the times, Hollywood. The bulk of the Oscar nominees are usually dour, self-important films that would be great if this were 1975. But it's not. LA used to pitch to America, now it catches.

Current Hollywood Comedies:

• Music and Lyrics
• Wild Hogs
• Reno 911
• Norbit
• Another Tyler Perry film

Current TV Comedies:

• The Office
• My Name is Earl
• Aqua Teen Hunger Force
• MXC
• Family Guy
• Simpsons
• Reno 911
• South Park
• Scrubs
• SNL
• Curb Your Enthusiasm
• Daily Show
• Conan
• CBS Evening News w/ Katie Couric

Where would you rather put your glazed eyeballs? Movies are as funny as Atlanta morning radio these days. Sorry. I must refrain from critcizing the weak. Not very professional, and people might be hurt by my observations. I don't want to hurt anyone. Live and let suck I say.

It's also embarrassing to me as a citizen of the Atlanta Metro Area to be from a place known more for Tyler Perry than David Cross or Larry Wachs. I'd even take Finesse Mitchell.

Tyler Perry. Not even funny. I'd rather see Norbit. Hold on....wait...No I wouldn't. When we ban protecting ourselves from Muslim armies, can we slip a rider into the bill requiring that Eddie Murphy must cease making anymore vanity projects where he plays an entire army of cartoon blacks? We might as well salvage something out of the loose dignity rubble.

AMERICAN OIL

Speed Bump Week on American Idol, where, traditionally, the entertainment takes a break and the pain of earnest people circling the drain takes front and center, thanks, in part, to the surprisingly effective website, VotefortheWorst.com (which has been also invaded by HOUSE OF WACHS discovery/site pestilence Norma Lee!)

It's clear the next American Idol will be a female black woman. The guys this year are a sad lot of meat puppets from the Hot Topic Factory Outlet loading dock, and have nothing to offer except an emasculated glide path for the winning female to step on. Shrinks say that girls mature earlier than boys, but dudes, some of you are old to enough to be raising families by now. Where are the men?  None sing like they mean it.

There are also too many stringy-haired girls with a surplus of sebum who look like they just got off work at Bebe or feeding Pops Shapiro his Gerber smoothie at the Shady Pines Decay Home. Watching the show this year for the first time in high-def isn't the picnic I thought it would be. The best singers are really unattractive, although I'm intrigued by this Sabrina Sloan. I don't know if it's my roots calling me home, or some middle-age crazy notion, but girls with big boobs and big noses turn me on these days.

Oh yeah. You've got that right.

There must have been personal and production problems with some good singers who got a lot of footage before going to Hollywood and then just disappeared. Perhaps they had the same fate as the larcenous Brittenum twins from last year, so the producers elected to bury them instead of being embarrassed. What happened to "Crack Baby" from episode #1? Can we assume that she perhaps had a little more crack in her system than can be explained by mere amniotic osmosis?

I understand the inclination not to rock the boat on a show that draws an average of 120 million eyeballs a week to advertisers, but in times when the singing and it's practioners are unsettled, you need a host that can pull the production together with some wit and charm. Tonight, the staff came out looking like they just got out of a tense production meeting to address their male singer problems and The Next Dick Clark decided he would rescue the show by picking a fight with Simon and wound up flat on his back... again. Nice out pitch, bed head. It would be more comfortable watching the real Dick Clark agonizingly countdown the year's end through oxygen-deprived speech.

Get a professional up there who can think on his feet, instead of some Urban Outfitters mannequin. Let Chris Sligh host and have Seacrest sing so the producers have political cover when America votes to ram a hot fireplace poker up Seacrest's ass to guide him to the door...no, other door. Better yet, bring in Foxworthy from that "5th Grader" show they've been pimping, and send Seacrest to that production where he can feel at home. "Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader?" premieres next week, and I can't say I won't lose sleep over the idea that there are enough adults in America who are intellectually challenged by 11-year olds to keep a show on the air long enough for a major network to invest in it. Can't wait for "Do You Ejaculate Sooner Than a 17-Year Old?"

Thursday night, new LAX customers will be oily pizza waitress Alaina Alexander, oily, stringy Amy Carter Krebs, or oily Nicole Tranquillo--they all run together to form one off-key oily puddle in my mind--and two of the 12 unappealing males, most likely Paul Kim and Nick Pedro, although I fervently pray that the Tandoori Eunuch, Sandgina Malakar will be excised as hastily as possible. However, the aforementioned powerful and growing subculture of voting for horrible contestants to stay longer doesn't make it likely this week. Feh! Pox!

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

FREAK/NECK

While I was getting a little minor neck surgery today--boob job is next week--I engaged in a scientific investigation with partial funding by Kaiser Permanente. Sometimes I'll catch Rosie O' Donnell on TV and think to myself, "I would rather have neck surgery than watch her talk." Until now, the opportunity never presented itself to prove it.

Today at the doc's office, struggling with the thought of two needles and two pairs of scissors plunging into my neck at various times, the nurse handed me the remote to the small TV mounted on high. I turned it on for a pleasant distraction to see Rosie O' Donnell telling everyone how much she hates the president and wants him impeached, and what a thoroughly self-absorbed angry dyke she really is and how it's all her drunken Irish father's fault because he played with his shillelagh on her pillow one evening after a night of pub-going with...CLICK!

Ahhh! Back to the gentle scraping of the scalpel against me throat. Sweeeeet!

On the other side of the coin there's American Idol which has been better than ever. They've certainly upped the damaged frontal lobe factor. They even have a real life crack baby ready to make the final 12.

The NY episode was the best yet with all sorts of queers, Italians, and runaway sluts, just like real NY. For added fun they had cutting edge songwriter Carole (Love Theme from "You've Got Mail") Bayer (Love Theme from "Ice Castles")Sager dressed up as Joan Collins for the young auditioners to meet.

Hi Randy, Hi Paula, Hi Simon...oh hey, you're that lady from Dynasty! Me and my friends watch that all the time.

Ryan Seacrest has even undergone a personality upgrade and appears to be decent in pulling the entertainment out of people in his interviews. He's still gay.

I want you to hear my favorite audition of the week. Even though she needs to be warehoused immediately or put down at the vet, I would like to thank this psychoy! Jewess, Sarah Goldberg, for lighting up the night with her real life adaptation of the classic scene in Albert Brooks' movie, "Lost in America," where he tries to convince the casino manager that re-imbursing all the tens of thousands of dollars Albert's wife lost at the gaming tables would be a great PR move.

SARAH GOLDBERG AMERICAN IDOL AUDITION

"I think you don't have to sing to be an American Idol...Paris Hilton can't sing."

Oh, that is rich!

--------------

Over at TRG Podcast Central, we salute the kickoff of the new Idol season via a segment with 2006's version of William Hung. Georgia's own Claymate of the Year, Michael Sandecki.

LOWE KNOWS

I'd like to acknowledge and thank my friends at Adult Swim on the Cartoon Network, who, along with George (Spaceghost) Lowe, the Master of Meds, gave The Regular Guys Show a passing mention on one of their cartoons recently. I hope the residual checks are real big for this one.

It was on a recent episode of AQUA TEEN HUNGER FORCE, a cartoon about some fast food items who are friends. It's a cup, a meatball, and a box of french fries in this clique and they have adventures in all their post-modern random goodness.

George plays himself in the episode called, "Antenna." It's in Part 2. 

This episode confirms two things to me:

1. The entire cartoon industry uses marijuana heavily.

2. I think Adult Swim is ready for "Gay Karaoke Satan."

When's a good time for a pitch meeting, gents? I got it all worked out.

UPDATE: Reader Tim Maher tells me that this episode will air/cable Sunday night at 10 on Cartoon Network. 

LITEL BUTTINS

I must admit to be flummoxed at the moment. I don't totally suck at business. I understand supply and demand, buy low, sell high, bend to the political currents of the day, and all that. Some things apparently take a higher degree of understanding; a sophisticated training that I forsook when I chose the glamorous life of telling dick jokes to men on the radio during my collegiate years.

The Mays family became multi-billionaires yesterday after making radio as uninteresting as ever, and then this exchange between Larry King and Roseanne Whatever on the internationally acclaimed CNN.

My new show: Mushroom and Tree Stump.

Look out Delilah!

ALL ABOUT YOU

I've been very busy this week thinking about myself. Everything has been about me, as it should be. After all, even the most mundane guy out there is singlehandedly supporting 10 families as soon as his feet hit the crumb-laden floor of the garlic fart smelling bedroom everyday. He's got his own, he's got the tax-eating mooches that glom onto his paycheck, plus there are overly needy co-workers who depend on him for their emotional nourishment, and on top of that, I, in particular, have been spending a lot of time with my new lawyer family.  But now, while all is stable on the legal front, I thought I'd spend some time on you before I round out another day of being beaten by the man and settle in for another Jewish-hosted TV game show in tonight's 1 vs 100 on NBC, although nothing can match the most Semitic game show in history, Deal or No Deal, with Mandel exploiting the poor decision making processes of African-Americans with his little banker friend and the 25 golden shiksas. See ya next time, and stay tuned for "Where's the Rent?" with Andy Kindler.

I can tell you miss The Regular Guys Show, especially now that it's gone forever and into the realm of legend. The Regular Guys Podcast, in three days has already over 2000 listeners. I don't really know if that's good. Just sounds impressive to me at least. Plenty more segments going up in the days ahead. And the outraged emails continue to pour in. I can only wonder what poor Kay-Kay at the front desk of 96Rock has to deal with. I hope she hasn't collapsed. I know you also miss my take on things in the news. For many people, my insights, commentary, and opinion are like a swig of lemonade on a hot day. A little sour, but so quenching. So let me catch up on the news.

First, I'd like to point out that John Kerry's "botched joke" was not botched at all. I thought it was rather well told and very clear. John Kerry thinks military people are dumb. Good one. Ha! Now go suck on next week's election results.

Sure Madonna's an irritating, phony cuntlet and all, but I don't know why everyone is up in arms that she adopted this little black baby boy. OK, so she'll probably give it away to Goodwill in 4 years when he's not fashionable anymore, but right now, this kid's life immediately went from consorting with wild jackals to to a 5th Ave. penthouse in neck-snapping speed. People are acting like she took all the children from Africa at gunpoint and put them on a plantation, and dared Abe Lincoln to shut it down.There's no doubt that it would have been more interesting if Madonna moved to Africa to live with the kid instead. Kind of a "Brown Acres" sitcom thing could have been made out of that, but there's no denying that the little black baby that she picked up at that big box baby store known as Africa, is better off.

Evangelist Ted Haggard admitted Friday that he bought methamphetamine and received a massage from a gay prostitute who claims he was paid for drug-fueled trysts by the outspoken gay marriage opponent.

Haggard resigned Thursday as president of the National Association of Evangelicals and stepped down as leader of his Colorado megachurch while the two groups investigate the allegations.

Why? He's against gay marriage, not gay reacharounds. In fact, the gay man who is married and has kids is the model of where I'd like to see the whole gay marriage thing headed. It's a lie we can all be comfortable with.

Why can paint thinner drinker Kitty Dukakis testify about the evils of alcohol and receive honors, but a sperm drinker like Ted Faggard be denied the opportunity to denounce the evils of too much gay? He should know by now. And Kitty Dukakis' anti- alcohol hectoring probably put him on the meth. He's only gonna be replaced by another closet case, anyway. Put him back up there. Preach on, village person!

Gotta go to the store and pick up the fixins for some "Krispy Kreme Bread Pudding" that I saw Paula Deen make on the Food TV channel today. I like her show because she comes across as a really sexy, fun hog.

PARKINSON'S TV

I watched the new Fox drama "Justice" this evening. You know, that one about lawyers? Anyway, there's really no point in telling you anything about the show other than it uses shaky, handheld cameras. I will never watch that show again as long as I draw breath.

I refuse to watch any show with shaky, handheld cameras. NYPD Blue? Hated it. Shaky, handheld cameras. I don't know why directors think this is a good technique. Nothing says "flawed storytelling" like the shaky, handheld camera. It hides bad writing and acting.

Take a look up from your monitor, please, but come right back.

OK. So was everything all shaky? Of course not. Else go to the emergency room.

COOZE NEWS NETWORK

What a dick Kyra Phillips proved to be. I don't know her sister-in-law, the control freak, but Kyra is certainly not one to talk about the manipulitude of others.

After changing her tampon and dishing with her home girl on the CNN Bathroom Report aired internationally Wednesday, Kyra appeared on the Letterman Show to be the subject of Dave's daily time killer, "The Top 10 List."

The day after the "Muff in the Muffroom" incident aired, Kyra told poor Eric, I won't come on TRG show because I value our friendship and don't want to mix business, and besides, Larry makes me uncomfortable. He doesn't kiss my ass as a minor celebrity like you do. Oh, by the way, I'm bailing on our dinner plans, Letterman is calling. Maybe next month after I'm done cashing in on my moment. Ta.

Oh, OK, great. I'll be right here. Nose in your ass. Maybe in a couple of years, you'll put me on TV again to argue with a priest or something.

Then she turns around and tells Porn Czar, "Oh, CNN won't let me." Some friend. Enjoy your fame. Keep your mic on when your sister-in-law kicks your ass.

LET ER RIP

I don't want to know anyone who doesn't know who Rip Taylor is. The Prince of Pandemonium came to visit us as a mystery guest today (sans confetti which was, unfortunately, delayed by Fed Ex), and everyone in the room had a fond memory of "The Gong Show," "$1.98 Beauty Pageant," "Match Game" "Super Password" "Hollywood Squares," "Jackass," or sleeping nude with men.

Even Rodney Allen Rippy stopped by for a reunion:

Here's how it went down today.

LET'S DO THE TIME WARP AGAIN

Look at the posting time for this story below it from AJC.com:

Woods and Cink Go to Sudden Death

AKRON, Ohio — Tiger Woods and Stewart Cink battled to the finish line at the Bridgestone Invitational on Sunday. Both Woods and Cink finished regulation play tied at 10-under 270 for the tournament.

Woods was leading by two strokes, but bogeyed No. 16 while Cink birdied.Cink started the day one shot ahead of Woods, Davis Love III and Paul Casey of England. Love and Casey shot 1 over for the day to finish at 7 under for the tournament.

___

August 27, 2006 - 4:21 p.m. Copyright 2006, The Associated Press. The information contained in the AP Online news report may not be published, broadcast or redistributed without the prior written authority of The Associated Press.

Here's the thing. I'm watching this tourney on CBS at 4:32pm and none of the above has happened yet. They're on the 13th hole. What the hell? Help! I'm trapped in a warp.

Suddenly, I'm confused. The oxygen is rare around me. Can't breathe. The room...spinning. Nothing makes sense. Is this the set the clocks back an hour week? Did something happen in my sleep? Will I arrive for the show at 9am tomorrow? What is going on?

Wait....It says "RECORDED EARLIER" on the screen now. Thanks for the cosmic scare CBS. Run a better disclaimer. Getting me all panicky here. What's the deal anyway? 60 Minutes not finished forging documents for tonight's show?  And what's the thinking at the AJC?
1. Give away the endings to sporting events hours before they are over on TV.
2. Watch readership balloon.

I think I'll call up Dr. Mike, and make a bet on the match, and win back some money. He never pays attention to what's on the internet, and he's a commie.

At least I can stop watching. Golf without drama is no fun. It's just a bunch of guys making good shots. Guess I'll go downstairs and entertain my brother-in-law and his 62 year old girlfriend who came to visit. And HIS brother is marrying the daughter. Some rule in upstate NY that people must date within the same zip code. Small town life. The fastest way to acromegaly.

BUSINESSMAN'S SPECIAL

A friend of mine was watching the Braves this afternoon on TBS and spotted me in the crowd. Of course, I phoned him to look for me. He sent the screen capture.

"Hey, I'm on TV...sitting here on the phone...tune in. It's great."

It's a completely tool thing to do, yet he did interrupt his work for an hour to let me know when I was onscreen. Two idiots talking on the phone, not doing any work in the middle of the day, one looking for the other on TV...That's an American siesta, baby. Mexicans sleep, we surf for porn and wave to each other on TV. No wonder they want in so desperately.

I'll bet TV ballgames get most of their ratings this way. In fact, many of the people in the TV-visible sections had their cell phones to their ear today, doing the same thing. Well, I shouldn't jump to conclusions. It is possible that the girl in the red crepe tube top with a script tattoo over her left tit was arranging a leveraged buyout.

OD of ED

The TV in the corner of the studio silently shows Fox News or CNN Headline while we are on the air. The draw on CNN is Robin Meade, and that's it. Fox is more interesting visually, and has better stories to tell. Also, they have E.D. Hill. It has become a ritual, no...obssession, with show members to sit in judgement of E.D.'s looks, which vary from day to day.

"Rough night, E.D," is the commentary at least 2 our of 5 days. The other ED, erectile dysfunction, comes to mind that 40%. The other days she ranges from hot to MILF-y. Tim Andrews spent some minutes when he was not needed on the show, speculating with his deadly pen,  as to what E.D.'s boobs might look like in stark reality.

BADA BING!

There's me and Aida Turturro (aka, Janice Soprano) who came by the show the other day. I'd definitely take a roll in the hay with her..and the flour, of course. Yeah, even if she weren't a celebrity from one of the best TV shows of all time, although that certainly factors into my decision.

We have a lot in common: We're both human and like to cover our torsos in public as you can see. That's just for starters. We also both like the Sopranos, and we both like food and shoes. And on and on. I hope she comes back when my transformation into Uncle Junior is complete.

THE MORE YOU KNOW...

This graphic was put up on Fox News today for a nation raised on Sesame Street.

Wouldn't want children and nitwits to be left out of the discussions. And is there ever a bad time to teach opposites? Today's blog brought to you by the letters Z-A-R-Q-A-W-I.

BAD DAY AT WACHS ROCK

We will cut the show back on, as Kelly "Race Card" Brown would say, on Tuesday. My deepest apologies for the lack of show on Thursday, especially after that spectacular American Idol finish. Hasselhoff crying! Clay Aiken as Shirley McClaine! 

As I boldy stated to a shocked public on Wednesday morning, that affable sum of parts, Sir Taylor Hicks, walked away with the honor of being controlled by creepy British recording moguls until he's close to 40. Other highlights included Mr.Al Jarreau, winner of Dentist Office Idol, Season 3, scatting it out with Paris Bennett on "We're in This Love Together."  Beside the uncomfortable feeling from watching a 70-year old man and 17-year old girl making a love pact, this otherwise cheerful and bouncy number has always upset me due to it's completely erroneous couplet:

...and like cherries on the vine it gets sweeter all the time....

Cherries don't grow on vines.

Time and vine don't rhyme.

Cherries grow on stems.

...and like cherries on the stem you're quite a little gem.

At least I'm trying to bring sense to it all.

Tomorrow and Friday bring memorial to the Wachs Clan on the weekend set aside expressly for such, and we travel to Upstate New York for the funeral of my sister in-law in-law. Her name was Carol, and she was very sweet and was cut off early by smoking.

The funeral is on my birthday. At 45, birthdays are now becoming days to sleep in and keep the shades closed and ride it out like a top TV meteorologist after some career-extending cosmetic surgery. But being a pallbearer on my day of arrival adds a new twist for which there is no proper etiquette. How does one balance the narcissistic tendencies of a birthday with the humility before god that a funeral brings?

To make matters tougher, SNL ran a skit last weekend, with Horatio Sanz, the Latin Chris Farley, dressed as a huge, boorish woman named Carol. The Skit Carol was a horny, voracious beast of a woman whose signature line, repeated over and over was, "I'M CAAAAAAAAAAAAROLLLLLLL." to the delight of the audience and investors of the next Lorne Michaels direct-to-DVD comedy, "It's Carol!" Well, it's not such a funny skit now, in my opinion, and I will try like heck not to think about it as I'm carrying the casket.

But the rest of y'all have a nice family time this weekend, and I'll be checking back before it's done.

THAT 70S SHOW

While the Braves celebrate their 40-year heritage in Atlanta this year, let's go back 30 years and upstairs to the broadcast booth, where my friend and sports archivist, Perry Simon, has dug up this game action shot from the days of pre-cable.

Even though I love my HDTV and crystal clear digital FM stereo of 96Rock, there was something special about the days when a fellow could broadcast with nothing more than a simple eating utensil.

FOX ON IDOL

Ratings aren't meaningless, but they don't really measure a man in full. The most important measure is how much pull a fellow has around town. Can he influence other area movers and shakers to spend some political capital in order to curry favor with him? Can he get front row tickets to the upcoming American Idol Tour?

If any influential people are reading this and would really like to make a middle-aged per..son happy on his 45th birthday, then make this a reality. I just want to stare at my future ex-wife, McPhee, for 90 minutes, and as close as possible without causing anyone discomfort or legal action. Hey, I proved restraint this year by not hanging all over Francouer despite owning an all access Braves pass, although that will be hard to do in the future after tonight's walk-off grand salami in the bottom of 9 to win it for the Braves.

Backstage meet and greet passes would be fantastic, too, and perfectly safe since my family would be with me. They could run off with Daughtry for all I care. They would be better off with a man like him and his bright future in Fuel. Besides, I let my wife go see Lenny Kravitz last year, a man she has vowed to sleep with if given the opportunity. Woman has Jewish Jungle Fever. Jewgle Fever.

I can't imagine that this is asking too much. Actually, I think other egomaniacs in my profession are reading this and thinking, "He's so damn modest. I'd ask for a new plane I've had my eye own so I can fly it to my house in Naples where I own a house and often fly my planes to it."

Christ on crutches, I spend almost every waking moment of my week wracking my brain to entertain you people with my simple brand of straight shooting  thinking man's populism, and here I am at midnight on a Saturday doing it again. I've allowed you to watch me eat my lunch, risked my career in tweaking the nose of the FCC. I took the blows and did it my way.

Do I have to get some cancer and apply to the Make-A-Wish Foundation?  I'd rather not.

I don't care what town the tickets are for, although I prefer just 8 miles from my home at Gwinnett Arena on August 3rd. I need 3. Thanks. Oh, and a handicapped sticker to park close if that's possible. Thanks. But the tickets and the backstage will do just fine. Thanks.

No, no. Wrong McPhee, luv.

THE CONTINUING CLICHE

The loser in me decides to spend some minutes in front of the 2006 NFL Draft between innings of the Braves flailing futilely at the Mets. Michael Irvin is stoned out of his gourd. He's laughing, uncontrollably at times, at absolutely nothing. The others on the panel go pale and try to ignore him, but it's difficult when he's falling out and back-slapping his nearest colleagues. They all have that, "What is that negro smoking?" look on their faces.

The only one who seems to be amused by Irvin's euphoria is Mel Kiper, Jr. For one, Mel is seated a couple of analysts down from Irvin, using Chris Mortensen as his Irvin prophylactic, and, two, the behavior masks another year of Mel inaccurately projecting the draft. With people like Michael Irvin to distract, one can make quite a living at the otherwise useless art of projecting pro sports drafts. He smirks a knowing smirk having seen it all hundreds of times going to the scary high school around the corner from me in 1970s Baltimore. His parents must not have had the smarts like mine to get him out of that school district before it was too late. Caring about football so passionately was probably a life-saving move on the young Kiper's part. I'll bet the bussed ones called him "Kiker" a lot at Northwestern High.

The scroll at the bottom catches me up on the Top 10 No. 1 picks of the draft. Can anyone tell me the origin of the name D'Brickashaw? Another grand collusion of cultural, phonetic, and grammatical disconnects rampant amongst the fatherless segment of our society. Now I'm laughing like Michael Irvin, and I apologize for accusing him of marijuana use...although I'm probably right.

Tomorrow is Latino Lent around our beleaguered nation, in which they are giving up everything, except spitting in our faces, for an entire day! What a sacrifice. In all probability, the people who claim to be purchasing nothing will be stealing it instead.

Wonder what the outcry would be tomorrow if a retailer decided to help out a little with a "No Mexicans Allowed" sign in their store window. What if Walmart announced that they were checking people for ID before allowing them to shop on May 1st? Do you think they would be seen as an amigo to the cause? No, I think it's best if all retailers realized that people in this country illegally, reserve the right to tell legal businesses how they must treat their worst customers.

VICK SETS, THROWS...PETEETONG!!

Today comes the news that Mr. Keith Jackson is retiring from his profession of making hog-calling noises on TV during college football games. He was paid handsomely, was oft-imitated, and will be heretofore referred to as "legendary." Good for him.

Here's the secret to having a career. Quit busting your ass trying to be funny or shocking or even interesting and insightful. It's not worth it. Wanna make some serious coin? Start making weird noises while watching sports. Find your signature grunt. Repeat. $$$$$$!!! Ohmyyyy! Yessss! Whoanelly! Don't step on downed power lines!

You are set for life.