This has to be a joke
Virgins meet in Sin City, tout abstinence.

Rest in Peace, Honorable Senator from South Carolina

I think it's time to celebrate the life of Strom Thurmond, not his death. Growing up in South Carolina, Thurmond was a political fixture--when asked to name the senators from your state, we could inevitably get at least one. While I don't agree with many of things he said or did, he was a great politician, and this article talks about the man, not the legend.

This paragraph from another article was particularly interesting:

The longest-serving senator in U.S. history was known as a fiery orator and opponent of the civil rights movement. He later moderated his views and in the 1970s, Thurmond was one of the first southern senators to hire a black staff member. He went on to support a number of blacks as judges.

You will be missed, Senator Thurmond.

Um, yeah, more cause to... Celebrate?
Ann Coulter now has a blog, the aptly-titled CoulterGeist.
Courtesy Bookslut

It's about fuckin' time

Strom Thurmond Dead at 100.

Him and Lester Maddox within a couple days of each other. Who will be Racist Old Coot #3 that dies in the Celebrity Death Trilogy?

I'm crossing my fingers for Antonin Scalia. Granted, he's not Southern, and he's not that old, but I certainly wouldn't shed any tears for him.

So What Are You Doing This Weekend?

Joel knows what he's doing:

Joel: yeah, I'm looking to exercise my supreme court granted right to sodomy this weekend

Swimsuit Season Is Here!

What will you be wearing? One piece tank Shorts Speedo, thong, dental floss (Brazilian only) Bikini and bikini-like suits Swimsuit? Hell no. I like showing my dangly bits.

View current results

Flying the friendly, well-endowed, skies

A nice article in the Washington Post on my hometown airline--that's right, Hooters Air. Now if they'd only start service to Chicago--I'd love a direct flight home.

Where do you think I get it from?
Me (walking up to my desk): Good morning!
Assistant (sitting nearby, stroking a coworker's butt with a lint brush): Good morning!
Coworker #1 (to coworker #2): Could you give me a hand?
Coworker #2: Don't look at me. I'm not wiping your butt.

Class

Cleo (quite loud and enthusiastically, at Topolobampo): Excuse me, I have a penis!
Waiter: **weird look**

Better Get Your Ho to a Ho-tel
So I'm doing my thing at the office yesterday morning, up to my usual morning routine of breakfast (Mt. Dew and a donut), email, phone calls, Wall Street Journal, meetings and paper pushing. Since my ability to stay awake was seriously impaired Friday afternoon, I never made it to my work area's printer to pick up my papers. So, I pick up a stack in my inbox, which clearly has my name on it. On top of the stack of papers is a cover sheet, which clearly has my name on it. I toss the cover sheet in the recycle bin, and I'm confronted with this.

It wasn't a photograph of Kim and Lenny per se, but some scans of a couple at prom, complete with embossed enscriptions on the lower right corner. The girl's prom "dress" is similar to the cut and general hoochiness of the one shown on Miss Kim, and additional shots showed the girl modeling the outfit. Most of my coworkers are in agreement that this couple subscribes to a truly unique brand of ghettofabulousness--this is the friggin' motherload of kitsch.

The thing is, I have no idea who these people are. I have no idea how (or why) they ended up in my inbox. The printer near my desk is shared by about 40 associates, but after circulating the photos around the office yesterday, nobody has 'fessed up. (And seriously, would you?) Workers from other parts of the campus can also use the printer; makes sense if said person related to such balls-out tackiness embarrasses easily.

Until the person wants to claim these pictures as his own, said pictures are resting comfortably on my cubicle wall. It suddenly makes my prom experience seem not so bad.

The US Patent Office, hard at work!
I found this link in this month's Scientific American, I SWEAR!

US Patent #8485773 - Semen taste-enhancement dietary supplement

(Make sure you scroll down and check out the "Background," "Summary," and "Detailed Description!")
(And, if for some reason the link doesn't work, go to www.uspto.gov and do a Patent Number Search.)

Evil, Evil Walmart

This is a really fantastic article on the evilness of Walmart. We should all read it and feel even more drippingly guilty if and when we next go there. Eeew! I'm going to take a shower...

Belated Congrats
<quote>You're the bestest class of two-thousand-three
I really love your peaches, want to shake your tree.

...Even when, a year from now, you may live in a city you don't like and work
everyday at a job you don't particularly care for, you'll have graduated
from college and have one big old accomplishment to whip out when the man
gets you down. You won't be any geek off the street. You'll be handy with
the steel, if you know what I mean, earn your keep.<⁄unquote>
Courtesy Patrick Cooper, as posted on the NUTies listserv

You are the red line. You think you're so great;
everybody loves you. Sure, you hang out all
over town, sharing a few cold ones here and
there, but at the end of the day, you're just a
lonely fellow with his head in the sand, who
happens to smell bad.


Which Chicago 'El' line are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

God Help Us All

Former Real World Boston cast member Sean (the lumberjack) is considering running for Congress. Scarier still, he's already a DA up in Wisconsin.

If Richard Hatch runs for president, I'm moving to Canada.

Fun With Political Cartoons

Apparently, Americans aren't just dumb as rocks. We're dumber.

Baby's First Gray
Me: Arrrgh! I shouldn't have gray hair! I'm only 23!
Assistant: Welcome to the firm.

Like you ever doubted it

carrie
bradshaw

you enjoy interior design and expensive clothing.
and cocktail parties. and elton john. and
green jeeps. and san francisco. and new york
city. and smoothies. and lisps. and sailors.
and kylie minogue. and kielhs.



and whatever else is totally gay.


Who's your celebrity fag hag? (Or, which celebrity fag hag are you?)
brought to you by Quizilla

There's a Sarah in My Apartment

*Sarah's looking at the Weekly World News (to make signs for her residents, she's an RA next year)*

Sarah: How often does this come out?
Joel: Uh, it's the Weekly World News.

Suburban Revenge

So, I'm home now, visiting the fam, and my parents and I went on a walk, from which emerged the best story: So, I grew up in Newton, Massachusetts, one of the more affluent suburbs just outside of Boston. We were taking a walk on West Newton Hill, one of the nicer parts of town (where the 2-3 million dollar houses are...think the nicest parts of Evanston, but with big yards), and we turned down Prince Street, one of the more posh avenues, and I noticed a plastic pink flamingo on someone's front yard. I commented on how funny it was, and how out of place it seemed amongst the well-manicured flower beds and fancy-stoned driveways. My parents took me to the source. Apparently this kind of wacky artist (who must be rolling in family dough) bought this huge house on one end of Prince Street and promptly painted it florescent pink. This was complemented by her bright pink Nissan Passport SUV to which she had affixed multi-colored fake rhinestones all over the vehicle. And, the piece de resistance - 200 (200!) plastic, pink flamingos on her front lawn. Now, apparently some of the snootier neighbors didn't appreciate her additions to the neighborhood and sent her some rather nasty e-mails telling her to stop desiccating the austere, selective borough of Newton with her trash. Well, apparently this set off a turf war in the neighborhood, with the people supporting her right to decorate he house however she wanted to, versus the people opposing her "art." And to display their support, her allies agreed to have some of her flamingos "migrate" to their houses. So all along this street (and we spotted them up to 1/3 mile away), pink flamingos poke out of bushes, make nests with little baby plastic pink flamingos in flower beds, and walk proudly in lines from one multi-million dollar house to the next. They arranged them like a literal migration - some "flying" by resting high in trees, other's marching single-file across the lawn, only to "jump" over their neighbor's lawn and "land" on the lawn of the house next to that one. It rocks! Apparently it made the front page of the Metro section of The Boston Globe. Suburban Revenge.

In Shock
As a teacher, Richard Schwarzlose cultivated my utmost respect; when I gave serious consideration to chucking my journalism major as a freshman, his insight and good humor kept me in Medill. He always made himself available to everyone; he's one of the few people I've known who truly loved his profession and the people around him. Prof. Schwarzlose: You are missed.

Anybody need a job?
A headhunter at my employer (management/HR consulting firm) recently asked me if I knew of anybody interested in an Internet writer/consultant position. Contact me if you're interested.

Happy Friday the 13th everyone. Please don't do anything stupid today, like die.

random musing...

so the show I'm currently stage managing (Happy Days, by Samuel Beckett) got canceled last night because our lead actress (Donna) was sick. bear in mind this show is for all intents and purposes a 90-minute monologue play, where the main character, Winnie, is buried up to her waist in a grassy hill, filling her day with random activities in order to try to stay happy despite her pointless existence. (go figure - it's Beckett)....

anyway, we've had an understudy for the past month or so for the obvious purpose of going on in case our actress got ill, lost an eye, quit the show to move to Mission City, KS, you know - usual things that happen to actors...however our director (Sean) failed to schedule an understudy rehearsal up until this point, so we had to cancel last night because our understudy wasn't prepared to you know -- actually *do* the show.

So instead we made the evening an understudy rehearsal, to prepare our understudy in case something like this happens again. However by the middle of Act I, Sean was so unhappy with the understudy that he told me we'd just call it a night after finishing up the first Act because he couldn't bear to see her try the second Act...(during Act II Winnie is buried up to her neck in the same hill and has some major sad moments)...

So upon leaving the theatre, Sean tells me, "Well, we're probably going to have to assign someone to the whole 'Donna-sick-thing'... in case we have to cancel again," implying there's no way in hell he's going to put the understudy on if he can avoid it...

A few minutes after that, the understudy comes up to me and asks if Sean was upset with the way she performed, and being the stage manager (read: peace-keeper, parent, therapist, wet-nurse, go-fer, etc.) I had to tell her she did just fine considering this was her first rehearsal, which I suppose is partially true...

*sighs* and this is what i do for my Hobby!

at least i have time during my day job to check up on this blog, read the news, and try to prepare for another night of fun coming up!

- Jon

the best part of this juicy tidbit of legalized discrimination is the former mayor's last name...

The Search May Finally Be Over

Howdy all. Just wanted to say that the last 24 hours have been very stressful for Ray and me. We learned yesterday morning that our lease on our apartment had been signed out from under us (by three blonde wenches no less). See we had an arrangement with our agent at the landlord. He knew we were looking for a house but we told him that we didn't know how long it would take. So, being the nice guy he is (or was), he gave us a two-month extension for June and July and then said if we didn't find anything by the end of June we could renew. Sounds fair. Apparently he didn't tell his buddy who decided to show our apartment (the aforementioned wenches said, "ewwh" upon walking into our apartment with both Ray and me there). When I mentioned to the agent that we were renewing and that we had a deal with our guy, he said, well this apartment is available and able to be rented. Then the bastard signed it over to them.

No one bothered to call us and even give us the option of renewing, especially since we were only 5 days into our extension.

That's just part one.

Part two: We are a hair away from getting a house (which makes the entire passle of paragraphs above pointless but you know me, I had to complain). The contract should have been signed by the owners and dropped off at the realty last night. We sign the paperwork on the loan on Saturday. And on July 18, assuming this all goes through, Ray and I will have a new address, a 1.5-car garage, 3 bedrooms, 1 bath, a backyard, a kitchen, a living room, a family room, and washer and dryer hookups (Amen!) all to ourselves. It is 1150 sq. feet and is about 5 minutes from where we live now.

Moral of the story: Just because you are down, doesn't mean you are out.

I should know today if we have it. If we get it, I will take pictures this evening and get them to you all.

Washington, DC

Our nation's capital...of ridiculousness.

For Cooper

And everyone, really. I got one of these specifically labeled "[not spam]" and then written in all capital letters. Yeah. Sign #1 of spam: All caps.

Nigerian Email Scam Mad Libs.

Reading this makes me yearn for the days when I thought combining skim milk, lime juice, sugar, and cumin made for a wonderful after-school snack for my little sister.

Exile in Slutville
Let me tell ya, I love my new 'hood. Here are some samplings of the sights and sounds of Wrigleyville:

• Guy stands near me on the Southport El platform. He's on his cell, presumably talking to his best girl. "Bitch! Yo, it's your pimp. Bitch, pick me up!"
  
• A shop around the corner from my apartment on Southport has been letting folks test drive a Segway for the last couple of days. It's was F-U-N!
  
• Tuesday morning @ 11 a.m.: I'm in the local Osco. There's a guy who, like me, seems to be of the professional ilk. So why was he buying four "fourties" and some cheap-ass cigars?
  
• And, why was my neighbor drinking three beers while cellie chatting on her porch that same morning?
  
• The number of people doing the Walk of Shame on Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday morning brings a tear to my eye.
  
• Friday evening, on my way home: A guy told me that, in exchange for $6, I could "buy" him. His pitch? "I'm cheap, but I'm so good!"
  
• The Porch Studs and their Balcony Bitches that reside on my block who never fail to invite me up to throw a couple back.
  
• The guys are hot. I don't think this requires any further explanation.

Classy with a capital K

Maybe this is my Southern nature coming out but I am still in shock from an incident that I observed more than a week ago at a wedding. Said incident will be described in detail so that you, my public, can decide if I am just oversensitive or need to call in sick for the next day or two to recover from the trauma inflicted. For those of you with sensitive eyes and an amazing ability to picture in vivid detail the accounts on this blog, consider yourself forewarned. This is not for the faint at heart.

I was alone in the foyer of the banquet hall , sitting in a rocking chair and waiting for my husband to arrive with the bride and groom (because Ray was part of the wedding party, I could not sit at the head table until everyone else arrived). Across from the area where I was sitting was the bar. Two barmaids stood behind it, filling glasses and dishing out booze. In front of the bar, there was a group of people, including a buxom blonde in a black-and-white polka dot dress with red lace trim around the plunging neckline. I don't know how many she had had but she was laughing rather loudly as I recall and focusing all of her attention on the gentleman in front of her while daintily sipping her drink.

All of the sudden, she hikes up her skirt, baring her entire right leg, which looks like one that is on Beach Fun Barbie, and plucks something underneath her dress without batting an eye.

I can only assume it was a wedgie.

Yeah, for classy lass from Champaign.

Friday Night Flashback I
Stephanie: "What's my name?"
Drunk Kellogg Guy: "Uh.... Jenny?"
Stephanie: "NO!"
Drunk Kellogg Guy: "Uh.... You're hot! I love you! I'm so glad you're my girlfriend."
[Repeat 100x]

"OH MY GOD! It was so fucked up!!!" -Stephanie, recalling Friday night

...come on, you know you want to know...

How Gay Are You??? (you don't have to enter your e-mail address for it to work)

Apparently, I'm only 51% gay! Huh?! Sorry hon....

According to the test though:
The world-wide gayness average is 37%.
11% of all test takers describe themselves as gay.
24 is the gayest age. (woo-hoo! go me!)
Women average 33% gay.
Men average 40%.

... like a ...
Those spam people sometimes have a sense of humor. In the inbox, I just got a spam offering penis enlargement services. The fake sender name was "Judith P. Draper."

Judith Draper. The name sounded familiar, so I googled it.

As it turns out, I had recognized the name from my days working in a bookstore. Judith Draper is the name of a best-selling author. She writes books about horses.

"Be carefull... Have fun... And do EVERYTHING I would do!" -- Coworker's advice for my Friday night

Word of the Day

toss�bag (n.) A contemptible or worthless person.

Usage: Joel has a history of hooking up with tossbags.

Ripping off a rip off (courtesy Ryan Rhome)

GAY MAN'S ESSENTIAL GLOSSARY
Afterhours: Where one goes when all the bars have closed -- when one still hasn't found anyone to sleep with.

Baggage: Those things that one uses to punish one's current boyfriend -- for things that one's last boyfriend did.

Bi-Curious: Fag.

Bi-Sexual: Married fag.

Bitter: What all gay men are destined to become. Caused by drama (see below).

Bottom: Orientation preferred by 95% of the gay male population.

Butch: What gay men who don't THINK they act gay choose to call themselves. (In truth, butch men would never need to use this term.)

Cuddle: A sexual activity in which no bodily fluids are exchanged.

Drama: An unfortunate state of affairs driven by sad, lonely individuals with no real problems in their lives who feel the need to drag more stable, well-balanced individuals, who are trying to make a valuable contribution to society, down to their level in hopes of making themselves feel better.

Ex: (A) Anyone one has slept with more than once. (B) A club drug popular in the late '90s. (Do people outside Buttfuck, Midwest State, DO that shit anymore?)

Excedrin: The foundation of every gay man's medicine cabinet.

Foam: Not sure anymore; haven't seen it in more than a year!

Gaylights: A tragic, unnatural highlighting of the hair that no straight man would be caught dead with.

GURRRRL: The first and/or last word of the gay man's every sentence (e.g., "Gurrrl, you 'bout ready to hit the club?" or "Gurrrl, I haven't gotten my ass fucked in THREE days!").

Gym Bunny: A troll (see below) who has realized that his only chance of getting laid lies in working out every day for the rest of his life.

HAAYYYY: A greeting. Note that the gayer the user, the more Y's used at the end.

Homewrecker: The person who stole one's ex.

Omaha Diet: Unnatural weight loss caused by non-prescription pharmaceuticals. Usually accompanied by bad teeth, worse hair and a tendency to live in Buttfuck, Midwest State. Also known as Jenny Crank.

One Night Stand: A very short-term relationship, the end of which is usually signified by one putting on one's pants.

Philson Sex: A sexual activity in which everyone tries to achieve orgasm, but no one does. Enables one to have a one night stand (see above) without actually becoming a whore (see below). Significantly more intense than cuddling (see above).

Rough Trade: A one night stand that one will later pretend never happened.

Shot: When you need to get drunker faster.

Stress: A condition brought upon by the drama (see above) of others.

Top: Endangered species. See "Bottom."

Trade: What one brings home from in a bar -- paid for in "services rendered."

Troll: Anyone older than you who wants you to go home with them.

Trick: See "Trade."

Twelve: How old one might as well be if one's not yet 21.

Universe: The area of space contained within a 3-foot diameter of every gay man.

Versatile: Politically-correct bottom.

Whore: Anyone having more sex than you.

You Want Executions?

The state of Texas has got nothing on this guy.

Et tu, Burtley?
From tomorrow's edition of Dear Prudence on Slate:
I am 23 years old and am seeing a 20-year-old woman; we'll call her Cleo. I met her though work, and we see each other periodically at work. (We don't order toner refills that often.) My problem is that she thinks my golden retreiver is a 7-year-old boy. She is truly an unreformed addict (she is actually very high now), and this hallucination is just one of her many drug-induced visions. I have never had a "real" relationship before, and Cleo is pressuring me to be exclusive with her. How do I slow this down? I like her, and we get along really well, but I am definitely not ready to be in a serious relationship with anyone now, let alone a crackwhore.

Shameless Plug

I know all of you probably read Casey's site anyway, but here are a couple of "articles" that keep me endlessly amused at work...

sk8er boi @ the movies
identity crisis

Getting Personal
Patrick: "Couldn't be me. Look at his quote: 'Show me there are people out there who are creative and stimulating - mentally, physically, spiritually.' As you certainly should know, Cleo -- I'm only interested in one of those three. And I sure don't remember you thinkin' or prayin' that night."

Coop's a Pappy
All this time, I never knew. You shouldn't be going 'round, procreatin' all willy-nilly like you do. From today's edition of Dear Prudence on Slate:
I am 20 years old and am seeing a 23-year-old man; we'll call him Patrick. I met him through work, and we see each other periodically at work. (We don't work in the same office.) My problem is that he has a 7-year-old son who doesn't live with him. He is truly a reformed rebel (he is actually very responsible now), and this child was just one of his many youthful indiscretions. I have never had a "real" relationship before, and Patrick is pressuring me to be exclusive with him. How do I slow this down? I like him, and we get along really well, but I am definitely not ready to be in a serious relationship with anyone now, let alone a guy with a child.

Um, Right...

Whatever gets you off, man...

Where's The Porridge?

Goldilocks in reverse: Man Finds Bear Sleeping In His House.

only in my home state...

Historical Redux I
An entry I ran across from my old blog. August 20, 2002:

Big Sexy
I received the following press release at the office today that read, in part:

CCL Container and Sexy Hair Concepts, a developer and manufacturer of hair care products for the professional hair industry, have collaborated on another line extension for the manufacturer's Sexy Hair brand. This latest launch, Big Sexy Hair, is in response to the current trend toward 'big, sexy hair.' And the line's blazing red packaging says it all -- this trend is hot.

Naturally, I have to forward the release to my friends for comment. The response from Mark:

"Big Sexy Hair, is in response to the current trend toward 'big, sexy hair.'"

And My Left Ass Cheek is in response to the current trend toward "left, ass cheeks."

Why are PR people so dumb?

Funny...I sound a lot like Cleo...Except the whole gay thing...

Handsome and charming, Jon is the perfect picture of an all-American guy...who just happens to be gay. Hailing from Evanston, IL, Jon seems to attract the attention of everyone when he walks in to a room. Aside from his great body, his natural charisma seems to have girls and guys flocking to him no matter where he goes. Jon makes friends easily and usually acts as the peacemaker in his circle of friends and family. He's far from just another handsome face--Jon is a man of integrity, intelligence and complexity.

Paris Cast Member Most Likely to Identify With: Ace

Paris Cast Member Most Likely to Hook Up With: Simon (duh, there's only 1 gay guy...otherwise I'd take Ace...)

Paris Cast Member Most Likely to Fight With: Christina

Public Service Announcement

The Washington Post published a piece today on how to save money on your student loans. Hooray for newspapers actually publishing useful information instead of the latest detail about Laci Peterson.