Friday, November 30, 2012

Question: What are the worst things that a guy standing next to you in an elevator can whisper in your ear?

Top Ten Worst Things to Hear from a Guy in an Elevator

10) "I'll just go ahead and claim the next three farts."
9) "Do you like puns about oral?"
8) "Nice ears."
7) "I had a dream last night that I was in an elevator that flooded. So weird cause you were in it too."
6) "How often when you hear the word rape do you think man on man?"
5) "Let me show you my new sexual hug."
4) "You got a real purty mouth."
3) "We have your wife. You have one hour to kill the president. We suggest...kindness."
2) "Let's switch briefcases. It'll be like that Lindsey Lohan movie."
1) "My wiener's got a first name, it's D-O-N-G-O."

Short Answer: Sometimes, through this blog, I get to work through my issues. It has become clear to me that if I were trapped in an elevator with a man, I would assume he was about to make sex on me. Now why is that I wonder? Maybe because not wanting stuff up your butt and being in an uncomfortably enclosed space are similar animals. Butt animals.

Thursday, November 29, 2012

Question: Jack be nimble, Jack be quick. What's the deal with Jack?

Ummm...he jumped over a candlestick?

I've noticed this before. Jack gets to go up the hill and get his jollies with that bitch Jill, and he gets to be the dude who climbs the beanstalk, and he's probably the same dude who sat in the corner stickin' his thumb into pies, years before that Jason Biggs guy almost got famous for fucking one.

Apparently, Mother Goose only knew a couple of names. Or maybe it's some deep-seeded, masculine metaphor, like every story with a predominant male hero is just jacking off. Then again, they probably didn't have the term 'jacking off' back then. Probably called it something old timey, like buttering your soldier, or hamboning.

Wait...arriving the carriage. How about stoking it? No, I got it, greasing the pudding pan. Shit, for all we know, jumping over the candlestick was some weird sex metaphor. Or it was the jumping the shark of the time. Like, in bed, jack's nimble, but he's quick, so before the lady finishes greasing her pudding pan, jack's already jumped the candlestick.


Short Answer: I think we've solved it. Jack is a selfish lover. Case closed. Now I think I'll go close my own case, if you know what I'm saying.

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Question: C'mon, dude. Top ten already. Errr...question mark.

Top Ten things that fit in whoever asked this question's butt

10) Plugged in curling iron - with the flap open to sear the taint
9) A muddy zucchini
8) A syringe full of dog barf (discharged)
7) Frozen man turd
6) Cast of Rachmaninoff's hand
5) Foam finger - soaked in lye edition
4) "Black Friday" (this is a dildo joke)
3) Own head, ungreased
2) Hungry, Hungry Hippos with marbles, sideways
1) Christmas Spirit! (And it can stay up there till December, please.)

Short Answer: Honorable Mention: My fuckin' boot.

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Question: Ever taken the ball to the hoop?

Yes, but I can't dunk, so it's pretty unimpressive.

More impressive is a story I'd like to relate about my balls and a hoop earring.

Here goes.

One time I got my balls stuck in a hoop earring. The lady was mad.

Short Answer: I have the 'vert' of a small, crippled child.

Monday, November 26, 2012

Question: Should aliens make first contact on your balcony, how will you represent the rest of us?

This is tricky. Are you asking how I'd act to represent all of us accurately, or just what I'd do that would end up representing us? I ask this because my normal behaviour, in almost any situation, would be a poor representation of human behaviour. And for the most part, I'm proud to say it.

First thing I'd do is ask them if they had front doors on their planet because it's pretty fucked up to show up on somebody's balcony. And on this planet, people are automatically gonna think that an alien on the balcony means something up the bum is happening in not too long. In fact, "alien on the balcony" is pretty much a euphemism for anal stuff.

Then, I'll offer them tap water cause what do they know about etiquette here? Besides, I didn't technically invite them; not gonna waste the pelligrino.

I suppose, as boring as it sounds, I'd want to know what they were up to before I started doing things that one reading this might find hilarious. Like I'm not going to put on Chris DeBurgh and make one of them put on a red dress and garter. I think it's probably important to figure out their attitude toward us before I start the intergalactic cross-dressing.

For example: Me - "What do you guys want?" Alien - "We're here to evaluate the human race, to see if they're worthy of life." Me - "Oh. You guys ever had chocolate?"

As opposed to: Alien - "We're just a bunch of silly fuckers out for a good time." Me - "Oh. You guys ever had weed?"

Wait, maybe chocolate is a bad idea. They might be allergic, like dogs. Wait, probably not a good idea to compare them to dogs. Wait, they might not know what dogs are. Best not to explain.

Me - "Yea, we have, like, other species that are subservient to us. They're basically just there for our entertainment. All we do is feed them and tell them where to poop."

Alien, his eyebrows settling in a dastardly manner - "You don't say."

Short Answer: I think it would be funny to try an elaborate handshake on first contact, and then be annoyed when they don't know it, can't get it, or because their fingers are too long and floppity.

Sunday, November 25, 2012

Question: Who would win in an axe fight, Hall or Oates?

If you mean axe like guitar, then Daryl Hall.

If you mean axe like axe, then Daryl Hall.

I think its pretty clear who the talent is here. (Psst - it's the one without the jerry curl.)

I love Hall & Oates, and I'm sure they have some magical song writing mojo that I could never witness or attest to, but it seems like Hall is the guy doing the heavy lifting. He's the soulful voice of the duo, which is kinda the thing that makes them awesome.

Plus, in an axe fight, you've gotta go with the bigger man. Quickness is not as relevant as soon as the weapon starts travelling from edged to blunt trauma. A sword, maybe the little fucker's got a chance. A mace? Slaughter for the big guy.

Hall wouldn't get out unscathed, but he'd win. And then he'd be all like, "You're out of touch, I'm out of time, I'm outta my head when you're not around. Wooo-oh-ohhh, woo-oh-ohhhh!"

Short Answer: Hall & Oates - Six number one singles, seven platinum albums, Number 15 on Billboard's greatest artists of all time. I can go for that.

Saturday, November 24, 2012

Question: You have five minutes alone with Gary Bettman. What do you do?

For those who aren't in the know, Gary Bettman is the Commissioner of the NHL (National Hockey League).

I will not take a side on the issue of the lockout. I will base my answer on the man's demeanor alone.

If a person was ever that condescending, disingenuous and weaselly anywhere in my proximity, I'd choke the life out of him and think I'd done every other human being a service.

Short Answer: Very few people have made me angry through the television, just because of the way they treat others. He is at the top of that list. The issue is, he has no reason to behave that way. It's disgusting. Most people you give the benefit of the doubt to because you don't really know them. But I wouldn't even want the opportunity to spend five minutes alone with that man, even if I could throttle with impunity.

Friday, November 23, 2012

Question: So I'm on the bus and this random guy says to me, "You're clearly a mushroom farmer!" What the hell does that mean? And by the way, I'm not a mushroom farmer.

Only a mushroom farmer would ask a question like this.

It probably means you smell. Or you look like someone who bends over a lot.

I think it's actually a derogatory term; you feed people shit and keep them in the dark. Rather intimate and specific for someone you've never met before. Maybe that person wasn't just a stranger on a bus. Maybe it was an old flame that - post sex change - has come back to get in a final dig. That's probably part of the twelve steps of getting a sex change. Go back and zing the people who made you feel like you wanted to curdle your jingly bits.

Short Answer: Though you may not produce and sell fungi, you might in fact be a mushroom farmer if you're secretive and you lie to people. Good thing some random person has given you the incentive to be self-reflective. And junk.

Thursday, November 22, 2012

Question: Top Ten childhood toys?

10) He-Man In particular, Cringer/Battlecat and Stinkor. He actually smelled bad.
9) Tennis Racket, Tennis Ball, Basement Wall I just liked playing with myself. I mean by myself. Never mind.
8) Table Top Hockey Again, I'd play by myself, making up teams and keeping stats.
7) Atari 2600 I was a bad ass at Yar's Revenge and Missile Command.
6) Nerf Ball, Bedroom Wall, Water Bed Same as the tennis game. With all these games, I'd make teams, leagues, tournaments and keep statistics charts. You may think I'm a weird nerd, but my hand eye coordination is ridiculous because of this stuff. Also I'm good at counting. (The water bed allowed me to 'dive' for shots, by the way.)
5) GI Joe Because they were more flexible, I'd turn my Joes, along with my playschool men and my Captain Power figures into soccer teams. They used a little black marble for a ball. They starred in my wrestling simulator as well. The ring was a checker board.
4) Go-Bots Yea, yea. I had some Transformers, too, but I had a shit load of Go-Bots. I even had the Go-Bot carrying case. Yes, I was that kid.
3) Hockey Cards We used to flip them in school, and you'd win what you matched. Hurt the resale value in the end. What did we know?
2) Pound Puppy I think my pound puppy was named Coco or Toffi. I don't remember the name, but I had him for a very long time and I loved him. I think he was the only stuffed toy I ever slept with.
1) Rebound I don't know where this game went. Things get lost as you grow up. They get sold or left behind or thrown out. This was a game with little ball bearings that you'd slide along a long plastic surface. They'd 'rebound' off of two sets of elastics and come down in a scoring area. Like curling but with a bend.
Short Answer: Honorable Mention to Ker-Plunk, a game that I think was made of steel and glass. You'd pull plastic sticks out of the center of an industrial strength tube until the marbles they supported crashed to the bottom. Like Jenga but with more trips to emergency.

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Question: Where in the world is Carmen Sandiego?

Jesus Christ.

I'd assume tied to a bed, naked and raw from too much weird fucking. Oh, sorry, did you like that shit when you were a kid? Well, that's reality. Time to grow up. Some of your childhood heroes own ball gags.

Did anyone ever think to look in San Diego? I'll bet she was just at the zoo the whole time. Her phone probably died or something.

I know. Her and Waldo were in Mexico, spending all the money he made hurting my eyeballs like a dick.

I saw a girl at a bus stop once and wrote a poem about her. I doubt anyone will ever buy it, so here it is, free of charge:

Thin jeans, red and white
striped shirt; I have finally
found love and Waldo

That was a haiku, motherfuckers.

Short Answer: (Just wrote Shirt Answer, had to fix): She's probably in the last place you'd look for Hispanic rogue agent thieves.

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Question: Put me in my place, would ya?

You're a fine, upstanding citizen. You have an altruistic soul, and are never shy to lend a hand to someone in need. You like pornography, but not the kind with all the hair pulling. You help old ladies cross the street and would likely assist in their suicides because life has become a terrible, unremarkable chore for them. The kids don't visit anymore; the grand kids might be dead or in jail for all they know. If that hussy their son married has anything to do with it.

You like rainbows. Gay people think you're gay, and that makes you uncomfortable, but you try hard not to show it so as not to offend. One time a girl showed you her boobs at a party and you thanked her politely. She didn't know, couldn't know, how furiously you masturbated to the image later on in the bathroom. That couple in the next stall thought you were fucking someone; you didn't tell them otherwise and not just because you were embarrassed. You wanted to allow them their false feeling of kinship. They were not the only ones performing drunken coitus in a dirty bathroom.

You love whales but would never ride one, for fear it would hurt their hearts. You thought the curly haired guy on Greatest American Hero had 'black-guy' hair, but never told anyone. You thought Neil Young and Neil Diamond were virtually the same, until you heard Forever In Bluejeans and pooped a little. You named your chia pets, and think of them fondly now that they're dead and gone.

You buried that hooker in a deeper grave than was necessary.

Short Answer: Way to go, champ.

Monday, November 19, 2012

Question: I occasionally get these weird voice messages where all I hear is a very faint, possibly vocal, clicking sound. It's probably nothing, but thought I'd ask your advice.

That's a text message, dude. You're reading a text message. You hear the clicking because you associate reading texts with the noise it makes when you send texts.

Just kidding.

That's someone who wants to kill you. That clicking noise originates in their throat. It's involuntary. Comes along naturally with the desire to slowly dismember humans.

Just kidding.

You're crazy. You still answer your phone and expect people to have 'conversations'. What is this, the fifties? (Did they have telephones in the fifties or is that televisions?)

Just kidding.

That's your ghost from the future trying to communicate with you through electronics. He's trying to warn you about your death. It's soon.

Just kidding.

You're getting pocket dialed by a tap dancer.
You accidentally subscribed to finger drumming monthly.
Your apps are frustrated.
Rain wants to hang out.
You left the tap on in your other phone.
It's the sound of the man working on the chain gang.
The new Siri is sophisticated: human heart.

Short Answer: I don't like it when people say just kidding. It should probably be obvious.

Sunday, November 18, 2012

Question: Can you apply bacon as a solution to global warming?

Sure. Why not. Good way to bridge the gap between the dummies who don't believe in global warming and the fact that it's real. Dummies love bacon. They love it so much they get bumper stickers about it and wrap all foods in it and turn it into sushi.

Listen. Bacon is awesome. Pig is the best thing on the planet and everyone likes things that are salty. But I grow a little weary of the bacon fanatics out there. We get it. It's funny to take something that everyone loves that seems mundane and turn it into the focus of all happiness and enlightenment. Problem is, there's nothing impressive or original about it. What would be impressive and original is if you took something that isn't mundane that nobody is a fan of and turned that into the focus of your life.

Like a bumper sticker that says: My genital wart is on the honor roll.

Short Answer: Oh, I was supposed to come up with some sort of crazy idea? Bacon fat grease could be dumped into the sea and turn the cold currents back to warm before they meet other warmer currents, therefore preventing super storms. And the grease won't kill animals cause they'll just open their snouts or their beaks, squawking thank-yous as they gom down the tasty grease, ingesting it before it mucks up their fur. Please. Murdering animals because their tasty ain't never gonna solve a real problem other than,"What do I want on my pizza?"

Saturday, November 17, 2012

Question: How is Elisabeth Shue still so hot?

She probably does that neck slapping thing that keeps the age away. Real thing.

The weird thing about Elisabeth Shue is that she's hotter now than she was. Don't get me wrong, around Adventures in Babysitting time she was at her peak, but I didn't find the boob out scene in Leaving Las Vegas to be all that appealing (maybe that's the fault of the movie's tone) nor did I enjoy the semi naked stuff from the invisible man movie with Kevin Bacon and Rhona hot tits Mitra.

Then I saw her in Hamlet 2 and I was all like, "Shit!" And then my wife was all like, "What?" And I was all like, "Shut up, bitch!" And she was all like, "Divorce."

Hot again in Piranha. Think maybe it's time to petition for some full nudity, like she did in that movie where her brain didn't work so good but her breasts worked on my dong just fine.

Short Answer: She's probably still hot because she wasn't squashed by the Hollywood stress machine for awhile. A perk of being cast out by that fickle whore.

Friday, November 16, 2012

Question: How do you respond to the rumour that you are Karl Rove's secondary, liberal personality?

Let's get one thing straight right off the old bat. This question was not asked of me because I look like Karl Rove. I am an Adonis. I look like someone who could fold up your car. My eyes are like pools of brackish water, filled with lily pads of compassion. Upon those lily pads sit beautiful frogs of sexual promise. When I smile my teeth smile as well creating a second smile. My eyebrows are bewitching and I've got a big dong.

Moving on. Karl Rove is an immense nutbar. Here's what we have in common. We love poontang. That is all.

Short Answer: My lower back looks a little like Karl Rove's lower back. What of it? (If I was in Thailand or something, and I saw an American style frozen yoghurt shop, I'd expect it to be called something like Poontang Nutbar. Or Poontar Nutbang. Or Nutpoon Bangtar. Or Poonnut Tarbang...time to power down.)

Thursday, November 15, 2012

Question: What is your favourite adjective?

The answer is quite simple.

It's fucking.

To begin with, I love the word fuck. I say it as often as possible. I say it around children, at old people and near churches (I can't go in churches, I always catch on fire). Whenever, as much as possible, fuck.

So it's a natural progression to want to use many forms of the word fuck. My favorite is probably as a noun. You fucker, for example. But the adjective would be a close runner-up.

"What's the deal with these fucking hot dogs? They smell like shit."
"Did you leave the fucking door open. I'm gonna kill your face."
"Fucking balls. Right in the vagina!"
"Who gives a fuck? You do? You're a fucking trollop."
"This is fucking great. I love pizzafucking."

You get the idea.

Here's a few of my other favorite adjectives, just to spice up the answer.

"What's wrong with this bigass fucker? Sit the fuck down!"
"You don't have to be such a raging clit about it."
"This is an acceptable amount of off-color language."
"These jokes about Lance Armstrong's balls are very tasteful."
"I like oldey-time movies, like Spice World."

Short Answer: Another of my favorite adjectives is smelly. "Whoever said this smelly fussbudget could attend our private function is a smelly pantload."

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Question: I've noticed the disturbing trend of virtually every girl's Halloween costume becoming quite slutty. While I am all in favor of sluts, what I don't get is why kids are being sluttified. Is that training for the future? And really, why are sluts dressing up like sluts? Doesn't that defeat the purpose of a costume?

New longest question ever.

I don't even remember the beginning of the question at this point. I like sluts, though. Was there more to this? Let me go back.

Right, right. Okay. Sorry to take the funny away for a minute, but I'm going to be serious.


No really. Here we go. If you dress your kid up 'slutty' you deserve to be axe-handle raped.


As for sluts dressing up as sluts, I see your point, as in, what's the point? But the thing is, because so many girls dress slutty, you get a few of those girl who would never dress slutty that brave the goose-flesh of exposed thighs and cleavage to 'fit in'. In my opinion, those girls are the hottest, 'cause you can sense that they know they're being a little naughty. That's fucking hot. Plus, I believe that normally reserved girls are more likely to go for the hottest of the slutty gear, like Slutty Librarian with the cat's eye glasses and the bun that comes down once they've been properly ruffied.

Short Answer: I don't think that showing a bunch of tit is ever defeating the purpose of anything. In any situation, boobs make the world a better place.

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Question: Can you name two dessert foods that definitely shouldn't be paired?

Yea I can, fatty. They're called any dessert and any other dessert. Who even thinks of having two desserts let alone pairing two together? Sure, once in awhile go back for a second slice of pie, but don't sit there and think, "Now what goes good with pie? Oh, I know! Fucking cake!"

You fold your pizza, don't you? Admit it. You fold your pizza so you can stuff it down your thick neck all the faster.

Here's a good pairing for you. One dessert, once in awhile, paired with getting off your fucking couch.

If when you get off that couch and walk to the kitchen to stuff your ovular face, or to drop off three tons of sick shit in the terlet, and you count the times that your thighs slap together, you should be able to make this simple equation. How many desserts I can eat + how many times my thighs slapped together = 1. One dessert. Any flapping and you get none, chubs.

Short Answer: If you're going to destroy yourself with calories, pick up pizza on the way home from McDonald's like the rest of us.

Monday, November 12, 2012

Question: Why the fuck do parents of sick kids seem to congregate in highly populated places such as malls, museums, and aquariums so that they can spread their demon seed?

I can only pretend that I understand what this question means. I think maybe some kid with leukemia must've kicked a shin or two, or perhaps a kid had a seizure in a perfectly good parking space.

I didn't know that the parents of sick kids congregated at all, except at funerals, so I'm not sure what the deal is or where the anger comes from. Maybe they all get together to show the kids a good time before they croak. Like, "This is a whale, Timmy. Some might say, you have a whale of a cancer."

All jokes aside, if you have a sick kid, I think you should be able to do what ever you want, even if the premise we're going with is that those actions will somehow spread the disease like herpes at a stripper convention. Being a parent is tough; watching your kid be sick must be super tough.

Shit got serious.

Short Answer: Are you talking about fundraisers? Again, I don't get the anger. I'd just use that money to buy Cheetos.

Sunday, November 11, 2012

Question: Is your home safe?

I live on a houseboat, so I'm pretty sure my home is safe unless there's a giant squid directly beneath me.

Oh, shit. Is there a giant squid directly beneath me? Wait, is this question from a giant squid? I'd have expected a giant squid question to be sent to me on paper with ink, but now that I think about, you are diabolical, aren't you?

Now what the fuck do I do? Can't call the squid police. Coast guard won't believe me, not after the whole 'whales are looking at me' fiasco.

I'll just assume that tentacles are violating every orifice of my humble abode as we speak. I'm going to get my gun. Time to end it all. It's been a good run.

Short Answer: This question is creepy even if it wasn't asked by a giant squid.

Saturday, November 10, 2012

Question: Is it possible to start fires with your mind?

Do you mean 'your' mind like any one's mind or like 'your' mind as in my mind?

No. You can't start fires with my mind. You can't do anything with my mind unless you're a girl with a big ass. Then you can turn off my mind and start a fire in my pantaloons.

As cool a word as pyrokinesis is, I'm pretty sure that it's about as real as that new Bigfoot talk show Squatch Talk that all the squirrels are on about. Can't trust a squirrel, though. They're all about nuts.

Aliens can start fires with their minds. But they only do it at night when you're asleep. They creep into your room and have roasted marshmallows around your bed. Then right before you wake up they take one long finger and poke you in the bum, starting a little fire there, if you know what I'm saying.

Drew Barrymore can start fires with her mind. Remember that scene in one of those awful Charlie's Angels movies where she's at a racetrack and they magically make her cleavage the best cleavage of all time?


Short Answer: I don't believe in stuff.

Friday, November 9, 2012

Question: Can you give me some ideas on how to avoid too-early christmas music?

I love Christmas.

But I also hate too-early Christmas. This question actually made me cringe. Until Christmas really hits, which for me is probably somewhere between a month and two weeks before the actually day, the holiday is just stress upon stress. What to buy, how to buy it, where I'm getting the money, will my herpes clear up in time, will I get a new batch of herpes at the last second, does Santa have herpes, does Mrs. Clause get the idea.

We all know the answer, here. The best way to keep yourself from being inundated with Christmas music is to shove white hot fire pokers into your ear holes until the sizzling stops. Most of us don't have the balls to make that kind of commitment, so I understand that a few alternatives might be nice.

Don't go to the mall.
Don't listen to the radio.
Isolate those friends (you know the ones) who are likely to jump on too-early Christmas, and plan to spend time with them when it's appropriate; December.

I'm gonna stop right there. I have a confession to make. I was singing Sleigh Ride to myself like a week ago. I'm a battered pirate; no legs to stand on.

Short Answer: It's not the worst thing to have to succumb to, is it?

Thursday, November 8, 2012

Question: If it isn't other robots, who makes the robots?

Little children.

In Asia.

For stamps. No, not even food stamps. It's just this stamp with a picture of the Tiananmen Square guy, standing there. But instead he's wearing a foam finger that says 'Get to work, fatty.'

Which is sad, because the children are emaciated from hunger.

Now do you feel bad for wanting a robot?

Short Answer: Slaves make robots too.

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

Question: When a vanquished dragon is mourned by its dragon widow, and you're still in the room, what do you do?

Make tea.

Short Answer: It's also a good time to steal a bunch of treasure, but you'll feel super guilty if she notices and doesn't care because she's so sad. "Just take it. What's the point, anyway? I've nothing to spend it on, not anymore."

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

Question: Would you ever let yourself be shot out of a cannon?

The only way I'd go for this is if I was being shot into another cannon. 'Cause that's funny. Or a pool of naked breasts. I'd go for that as well.

Why don't we have things that are soft like boobs? Shouldn't that be something the scientists are working on? Shit, I'd buy that pillow/cushion/bed. Feels like boobs on your head! Sold.

I think my problem with being shot out of a cannon is that I am not, nor have I ever been, a projectile. I don't know how to do that. I'd probably wave my arms like a drowning man and scream like Goofy. That would probably be a good show for you, but I'm guessing my pantie-dropping stats would take a pretty big dive for at least a little while.

And we can't afford that, now can we?

Short Answer: I think it would also be okay to set up one of those stunts where a fat guy is gonna take a cannonball in the guts, but instead he takes me in the guts. That's funny. Especially if he's standing close enough that my feet don't leave the cannon.

Monday, November 5, 2012

Question: When I see the word pens I think of the word penis. Is that bad?

I suppose it could be alright. Do you really just think of the word penis, or do you picture a big, throbbing, veiny monstrosity, waiting with little anticipation to probe and torpedo the undercarriage of some pretty young thing or disgusting man butt?

Slow down. Stop crying. We all have our triggers. Many of us think about big dicks at inappropriate times. I have many triggers. The Oscar Meyer wiener song, ferrets, long announcements, a woman's get the idea.

Look, no one's going to be mad at you if your brain is on cocks. It happens to the best of us and strippers. We're all whores for sloppity man meat when it comes right down to it. Those bad boys are intriguing. Soft, supple, yet hard and angry. Small, then big, then small again, then covered in unsightly dry skin from hard wanking and under-vagina use. It's a veritable mess down there, and inquiring minds want to understand dong.

You're going to be okay. If you're really concerned switch to pencils or move to Regina or Virginia. That should take your mind off of dudes' junk.

Short Answer: Wang.

Sunday, November 4, 2012

Question: Would you please make a list of people whom you think might be robots?

I assume this question is inspired by presidential candidate Twit Rombot (see what I did there?) and his wonky wiring when it comes to any sort of consistency or integrity. I'll happily oblige.

Top Ten People Whom Might Be Robots

10) Sinbad - Yeah, the comedian. Not funny at all and dresses like he picks his clothes out of the fabrics in a blind old woman's living room, then wears the clothes like he has a different amount of limbs so they don't fit right. Robot.
9) Sam Worthingtion - I'm willing to give this young-ish actor some leeway, but from what I've seen so far, I'm not buying the hype. He's clearly programmed to do an okay job, but he's often very stoic, still and lifeless without conveying any emotion. Robot.
8) Rachel Ray - Something's wrong there. We all know it. I'm pretty sure that smile is made from metal and space-aged plastics. And she manages to be attractive and repulsive all at the same time. And she knows stuff but you still want her to shut up. And she's the kind of woman that if you had to spend more than an hour with, you'd be looking for the power switch. Robot.
7) Jack Hanna - Sure, he loves animals. But isn't it sort of like the love of animals you'd expect from a robot who has to program another robot to make it look like he loves animals? Ever get the impression he's kicked a cat or two when no one's looking? Like when his scans say no one's looking? Robot.
6) David Lynch - No human is this weird. This was supposed to be a hairdresser bot and things went super haywire and now this metal hearted daemon wants to express itself visually. Sure, give the robot a camera. Robot.
5) Billy Crystal - Make no mistake, at the time Billy Crystal was programmed, that was considered funny. But like all software, humour needs its upgrades. If that wasn't a robot hosting the Oscars, I don't know from robots. Robot.
4) Rob Zombie - Again, something went wrong here. I'll bet this maintenance bot worked okay for a few years, but somehow its circuits allowed it to wanna kill all humans. Knowing it could not do this alone, the Zombie bot twisted its longing for human flesh into strange, surreal images and music. Then, like all creative people, became a director bot. Robot.
3) The Great Khali - Many of you won't know this reference. The Great Khali is a professional wrestler in the WWE. (He was also an actor in Get Smart and Macgruber.) He's one million feet tall and walks like he's at war with knees. I see what they did, gave him a bit of ethnicity to go along with the giant face, but it's not fooling anyone. Robot.
2) Tom Cruise - They did a good job with this one. The smile is a little too wide, though, and he runs with impossible precision and intensity. And he does all of his own stunts with no fear and everyone thinks he's the perfect leading man. No one gets praise from his peers like Tom Cruise. And he's programmed that way. To indoctrinate, one must first gain trust. Robot.
1) Mario Lopez - If you don't know who Mario Lopez is, good. He might be the most evil robot on the planet. Notice his lack of any flavor or flava. He's like a brown painted flesh bag, with a fake smile and perfectly chiseled frame. He cannot attract or offend. He is simply there. Like the old guy standing at the edge of a kung-fu fight. He's gonna do something, and when he does, it'll be big. Robot.

Short Answer: There are a lot of robots. The question is, who makes the robots? Is it other robots? I can only assume.

Saturday, November 3, 2012

Question: When is it ok to cheat?

I honestly believe that there is absolutely no point to cheating. There are a million ways to get what you want, be it self-esteem or money. Cheating is pointless; it disrespects whatever endeavor you're pursuing. Take a game or a sport, for example. What's the point of constraining yourself to the regulations and guidelines of a game only to break a rule just so you can win? To me, it's pathetic and dishonors not only the sport itself, but every other person involved at the time you're playing, and possibly even every person who's ever loved that game and wanted to play it just for the joy of it.

That being said; here's a short list of when it's acceptable to cheat.

If money's involved.
If you're bored.
If you're trying to impress a woman.
If the person you're playing against is a 'goody two shoes'.
If the person you're playing with is attractive.
If you want to emasculate someone.
If the person you're playing against is some sort of 'fag' or 'queermo'.
If you feel at all like James Dean.
If you think their might be a modicum of self-worth gleaned from the victory.
If someone says you're a 'fag' or a 'queermo'.
If it's a stupid game with stupid rules for idiots.
If you have an inkling to take your ball and go home.
If it's raining outside.
If you have seasonal affective disorder or AIDS.
If you're handi-capable.
If your foot hurts.
If you have plans later.
If you're inspired at that moment by the music of Dr. Hook.
If you've had any eclipse of the heart, total or otherwise.

Short Answer: I don't like cheaters. But I do like steroids. A lot. Times are tough.

Friday, November 2, 2012

Question: Do you like to travel?

No. I do not.

I like places, the same way anyone does, but the hassle for me is not worth it. As someone who spends every day making things up - characters, settings, motivations - and living in those fantastic realms, I find that my idea of a place is almost as rewarding as the place itself.

Some of you may think this cerebral attitude is off, that you have to experience things firsthand. For most people, that's probably true. But I've travelled a little, and I must say, my idea of the way things are in other parts of the world may not be as accurate or as informative as the reality, but it's a hell of a lot more fun. And fun is priority number one when it comes to what I do with my time.

Example: Not as many clowns in India as you'd probably like to see.

Short Answer: Food is the reason to travel, and the reason I will again.

Thursday, November 1, 2012

Question: What are the things that make you happiest when creating top ten lists?

Probably the laughter of children.

Either that or the mounds and mounds of sarcasm.

I like counting; that's a good time, right guys?

The anticipation: I wonder what number is next?

The fact that I follow each top ten list with a terlet-deuce I've dubbed the "Eleven."

Short Answer: Top ten lists make me sick to my stomach, you bastard! Sick! (If you're finding this answer to be fairly uninspired, that's because you smell like a butt, sir.)