Quick Top Ten

Friday's suck. Most days suck because we chose to be born into a group of cells that aren't named "Kennedy" or "Rockefeller". Unlike the members of those families, the rest of us generally have to work Monday thorough, at least Friday. Here's a quick list of movies I'd rather be watching right now, than be here...at work.

1. Office Space: Why does it say paper jam, when there is no paper jam?!?!
2. Old School: There is no better time to watch Old School than, well, anytime.
3. Orgazmo: I have a fresh appetite for Trey and Matt. This was such an unknown masterpiece. It deserved better than a two week run on Starz in 2000.
4. Arrested Development: TV shows qualify for this list. Quite frankly, one of the most well-written shows ever produced.
5. Snaked On a Plane: Embarrassingly, I am curious to see this one. Why didn't anyone make the connection that Sammy Jackson went from Black Snake Moan to Snakes on a Plane? What's next? Snakes '08; Yes We Can?
6. Boogie Nights: It's been a while
7. 3:10 To Yuma: I've heard good things
8. 1408: See #7
9. The Usual Suspects: Give ME the keys you fucking cocksuckermotherfucker
10. Friday: Craig, how you goin' get fired, on yo day off?

Tribute Thursday

Today’s New Feature: Tribute Thursday! When polled*, many of you said that the first person honored for the weekly inspirational post should be my mother. She would have been a valid honoree; as would Mr. Rogers, Lorne Michaels, or Estelle Getty. They’ve all contributed in some form to my development from youth to Super-Adult. Perhaps one or many of them will one day make an appearance here. There is one person who is responsible for more than that. He was able to teach me the virtues of comedic timing and right-wing political values before I turned 12. Today’s honoree: Alex P. Keaton. *Ed note: No one was polled.

The late eighties/early nineties were a crazy time. Most teenagers were dropping acid and jumping out of their 2nd floor classrooms or were terrible at Russian roulette . Kids had no decent role models. Alex P. Keaton provided decency, even in the face of his granola parents, his easy sister, his lesbo sister, and their retarded neighbor. They found ways to get in and out of trouble every single week. He found a way to take a hot playboy model, dress her up fancy and nerdy hiding her hotness before this was the Hollywood norm and make her your lovable, but not scene-stealing, girlfriend. Alex provided a formula for success and this was an easy concept to grasp:

• Be likeable


• Call your Dad a hippie


• Learn what S.C.U.B.A. stands for (Self-Contained Underwater Breathing Apparatus)


• Love Ronald Reagan


• Get into a sticky situation every Thursday at about 8:08 pm EST. This problem must have a shelf life of no longer than 19 minutes. Got to have time to feel good for a couple minutes at the end.


• Be accountable for your actions


• Apologize to and for your hippy freak dad


• Riches will come

There is zero chance this show would have survived in the culture we live in now. The sweeps week episodes would concentrate on Skippy’s whore cousin visiting and giving everyone from Andy to Malory a nice collection of new and old STD’s. She’d of course be played by Paris Hilton. Alex would drive a Lexus. Skippy would wear…it doesn’t really matter what Skippy wore. He wasn’t much of a looker. Well, that and no one would be watching. Why, you ask? Because nobody gives a shit about values, ethics, morals, or right and wrong anymore. It’s only a bottom line society. People make exceptions to all the rules. I’m just as guilty as the next person. NCAA athletes are neither amateurs nor collegians. Pro-football players, something that should be seen as a disposable expense to the common man, are paid more than entire countywide school budgets. Who am I going to rely on to educate my children? It certainly won’t be anyone Volusia County and preferably no one involved with Florida Public Schools*. It starts with the individual. I bet you didn’t think I could get from Mike Fox to STD’s to my kids, did you?

*Ed note: The “My Wife” exception obviously applies. She exceeds the minimum standards of the state.

What's the worst thing you've ever done?

Sounds like a great couple-three top ten lists to me, but for our purposes today, we are going to concentrate on the "time-value of money" category.

During a short period of self-reflection, I today, realized the worst investment of any increment of money, ever imaginable. I'd like to convey what a serious and deep statement I am making. The person making this statement has commited the following sins against personal finance:

A) Spent my last $14 buying a Don Mattingly poster on a trip to Yankee Stadium in 1987. This was my first trip to NYC. I was eight. I remember two seperate times not being bored on this tourist trip with my Mom and Doug. First, Doug took me to an Irish bar during daylight hours. Too many beautiful concepts at work to discuss further. The other was after my first game visitng "The House That Ruth Built". This happened the night before I flew home by myself. FYI, the Yanks were not the complete Evil Empire they and the Red Sox are today. This poster was the greatest way I could have spent $14 I'd ever thought possible. I was gonna go home and show all my friends I have a Don Mattingly souvineer from Yankee Stadium. I left my poster on the plane.

B) Refused to consistantly check the oil on my Blazer. This car was a friend's and he practically gave it to me after he graduated college. The only problem with the car was a small oil leak. I needed to check the oil once a month and put more in. This was a task way too complicated for me. I left the car on I-4.

C) I bet real money on the Washington Generals. "They were due to win one!"

Also keep in mind the endless amount of cash I flushed down the port-o-potty in college - all the withdrawals, failed classes and the ones I just stopped going to. All of these are better ways to throw away money than in 1989, I spent $3.75 to see John Travolta and Kirsty Alley in Look Who's Talking. I don't know who I am more angry with; Myself for being this stupid or John Travolta for shitting on my money. Let's just say Mr. Wonderful received a 5% cut of my $3.75 - That would be worth about a dollar now. You have any idea what I could do with a dollar now? I could buy a song on iTunes. Or about 5 songs from this Russian website.

You could say I spent about $16 in today's money, with the time value of money theory involved. For the record, there is no time value of money equation in the Don Mattingly poster because that was pricess to me at the time. There was no dollar value on the loss of the car, because I got the next one I ruined for practically nothing as well (they were both shitty cars. Free, but Shitty). And, I didn't really bet on the Washington Generals, but Krusty the Clown did and we know how that turned out.

Myself and the other four hundred, sixty-three people that paid acutal cash money to see Look Who's Talking ... okay, and Look Who's Talking Too - Hey! We had to see how it turned out, have now commited the ultimate sin. We've helped create the Scientology monster. We've helped perpetuate a group of people that give more creedence to a group of rogue aliens starting life on Earth than to a Supreme Being. This is a group of people that has reset the bar for crazy. They are the most out-there group. No one can top them. Not Britney. Not the guy who sells flowers in a straight bar with no chicks. Not the guy who rides his bike all over town and belts out the National Anthem to start Little League games. No one. You're move, Christian Coalition.

I challenge you America (at least the seven of you that know about the blog): What was the WORST personal finance crime you've committed ? Discuss.

This Just In!!!

Vice-President Elect Mike Huckabee has announced he will run for President in 2016! http://www.cnn.com/newstory/theelectionhasnthappenedyet/seriously-stoptalking.com



Am I overstating the effect of talking heads and newsmedia in making predictions for primary elections? Maybe, but no. I predict tomorrow, as soon as the Wisconsin and Hawaii precincts open, Fox News will be ready to make their call on the election. A full 12 hours before the precincts close. Listen, there has to be the counting of the votes before we have a winner. That is why we play the game. Otherwise, we could all have won New Hampshire last month - before the voters rushed out at the 6:00 clock hour to vote for Hillary. I guess they all had to wait for the loading dock to close for the evening .

Or it was rigged. I'm just saying.

An Yong (Hello)

Every minute, a new blogger is born. Just think, one in fifty-three of them have some talent. Here's to hoping I'm not #52.

Oh, look. There's the little girl from the down the street. Hi there Mary. How are you?


"Hey, Mister...what's a Blogger?"

Bloggers are the new breed of columnist. Only Bloggers do not need to be employed by a newspaper, magaizine, or annual publication. They don't need a fan base, a readership, or even an audience, really. They are faceless opinions. Their voice is too important to keep inside anymore and anonymous chat rooms can only provide so much sense of accomplishment. Bloggers mainly are pretentious a-holes who want their voices heard over The Internet. Instead of a pesky little kid standing on a crate at a street corner wearing a cap saying things like "Extra! Extra!" trying to sell our newspaper, we send an email to eveyone we know to convince them to spend time on our blog.

"How does God make Bloggers, Mister?"

Excellent query, Mary. God creates bloggers in the same mold that He made CEO's of big tobacco in the fifties and sixties. The job of a blogger is to a) report and inform on a topic of our choosing and b) articulate on subjectswith extreme bias, at a level of our choosing. We convince you your need for us, is so strong, you don't feel comfortable with your body if you aren't reading us. All of us have successful blogs in our own minds, but no one remembers Hello Kitty Chewing Tobacco, do they?

"Mister, why is this A-Hole writing a Blog?"

Mary, you are quite a little bag-o-questions, aren't you? The quick answer is for fun. The long answer is derrived from a complicated logarithmic equation pitting will, wit, and wisdom against each other in the space-time continuum. I'll save that topic for a rainy day. And careful, I'm that A-hole.

*For those reading that have spent any time with me - Did you really think I'd let my first post go by without a BTTF reference?

"What's this blog all about anyway, D-Bag?"

Settle down Mary. Let's not get upset enough to run to your parents again. Seeing as how guys aren't readily able to access their feelings, motives, and weaknesses, I am going to use this forum as a way to keep in touch with my inner-most thoughts, things I am afraid of, daydreams, and my favorite colors. Or, I could keep those things bottled-up, deep in my heart, never mention them here (or anywhere) & reserve this space to talk about sports, politics, religion, movies, and make fun of people and things that deserve it, like douche bags, people being a temporary d-bag, or permanent D-Bag. I could go either way.

Actually, a man's feelings belong right next to the spot that makes you want to stop and ask for directions. Those are things or abilities you should forget exist. As well as crying. Guys shouldn't cry. In fact, there are only a couple times I think it's okay for a guy to cry.

1) At the birth of your child. I don't know this one first hand, but I hear it's a doozy.

2) On your wedding day. If happiness and excitement don't make you tear up that day, maybe you shouldn't be getting married.

3) The death of a close relative or friend. No room for sarcasm here.

4) Any point in the last twenty minutes of The Notebook. Again, if you didn't cry at your wedding, you may not understand this one either.

5) If you get kicked in the nuts hard enough or creatively enough to have made it on "America's Funniest Home Video's" back when it was hosted by Bob Saget. The event didn't have to have happened then, but the standards were set higher before the other dude took over. You know, the dude also from Full House that broke Alanis Morrisette's heart. Dave Coulier. That's it.

Cut.
It.
Out.

I'm looking forward to an eternity of sharing my thoughts and opinons, whether they are informed or not. I have lots of ideas I'd like to touch on and also have ideas about themes for specific days. I am excited about presenting days like Theological Thursdays where we can have an open debate about why your God is better than mine. Coincidentally, Douchebag Friday's will follow, so everyone who was offended will have a chance to start the day full of spite and ready to nominate someone special. I'll update when the words hit me.

Until then, and remember - It could have been worse. You could have rented a Steven Segal movie.