Damn, Slash has really let himself go!

The goat

They’re easy to grow, easy to maintain and easy to scrape off in case you need to make a clean cut appearance.  What am I talking about?  That freaking goatee every Tom, Dick and Harry wears these days.  Was it the grunge explosion of the early 90s that brought that fashion eye sore front and center again?  I don’t know.  I think they look OK on some people, but not on everyone.  Come on guys, just because you have facial hair you don’t have to grow the goat.

Remember that guy in high school, the one who wore the peach fuzz mustache, who was always checking it out in the bathroom mirror, asking you, ‘how’s my stache’?  I’m not saying you have peach fuzz, but that’s you, now.  You look better with a clean shaven face.  Your mom was right.

I know, I’m just ranting, it doesn’t matter…even I have grown the goat from time to time but today it just dawned on me, too many guys try to grow it out and they just look trashy.

Thanks for your attention, you can go back to googling amputee porn and videos of guys getting kicked in the nuts.

Rock and Roll!

Oh, the intellectual heights you can reach with text messaging!

This is a conversation I just had with Lance via SMS using Verizon’s vast wireless infrastructure.

Lance: Let’s get together, put on leather helmets and club each other to Yanni’s greatest hits.

Me: I agree with all of that except for the part about Yanni’s hits being great.

Lance: It’s a comparative way of ranking Yanni’s songs differentiating his master works from lesser filler efforts within his wide, all encompassing catalog. It’s not a personal assessment of Yanni “the artist’s” degree of suckitude.

Me: Well, if the ranks are based on the scale of suckitude then greatness is relative whether good, bad or suckish. His greatest suckiness would indeed be considered great among the greatest of sucks.

Lance: Well, sure. That’s a given. I’m not arguing that. I’m simply saying that I have the helmets and clubs right now.

From bad to worse…

Have you ever had one of those days? The day where just as things can’t get any worse…they do?

For example, you’re a mouse going for that morsel of cheese and just as you think you’ve got your hands on the catch of the day…BAM! The steel trap of surprise, humiliation and spinal damage slams down upon your neck. And, as if it can’t get any worse, you feel Jack Manson, the town mouse rapist, creeping up behind you for a little of the old in-out, in-out while you’re stranded and suffocating.

I thought Job had it bad until I saw this.

Random photos with which to crack you up

The world wide interwebs continue to provide masses of unexplainable, yet hilarious photographs. Look and laugh.

Um, is that guy putting his pants on or taking them off to get the party started?

Sacking the QB takes on a new meaning

Good thing he brought an umbrella

Deviance of biblical proportion in the jungle

Keep those hands down, always remember the fundamentals of soccer

I believe this guy set the new projectile vomiting distance world record

He zigged when he should have zagged

Matt Drudge cracks me up!

Look what he posted today. I shot Diet Mt. Dew out my nose when I saw this. Drudge rules !

I can’t kill a guy for you today…

Last year around my birthday I had a celebration that lasted several days…OK, weeks. Here’s now it started. My friend Lance and I went up to Park City for a little celebration on Friday night. We had planned on ending the evening with a trip out West to the Bonneville Salt Flats and a little overnight in Wendover. We were a little too tired so we crashed out about 4am at his pad.

8:30 the next morning rolled around and I woke up bright eyed and ready to rock. I wandered into his room and kicked the side of his bed and said, “dude, I have a huuuge favor to ask you.”

He replied, “what?”

I said, “let’s go to the salt flats.”

In a slighty irritated voice he calmly responded, “gimme a minute.”

He roused himself and we drove out for an incredibly epic adventure that I will blog at some later time. On the way I decided to ask him what he thought when I first asked him for a huge favor. His response still makes me laugh my ass off. He said, and I kid you not, “I thought maybe you wanted me to kill a guy for you, but then I remembered I left my trident at the dry cleaners.”