Friday, October 31, 2014

Question: Can you give us a few new horror movies to watch this Hallowe'en?

It's a little late, but, yea. That's within my repertoire.

(What isn't you ask? My ability to explain why I like fried bologna with relish on top. Moving on.)

Again, the word new is tough. I don't have as much time as I used to, so I'm a little behind when it comes to the newest shit. I won't catch up on this year for some time. So I guess whatever's new to me, huh?

The Bay (2012) I had no idea what I was getting into with this. Blown away. Loved it. Is environmental horror a thing?

Stoker (2013) Chan wook-Park. Yep.

The Loved Ones (2009) This great little Australian movie came about for me just in time for the 40th anniversary of Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Really good fun, in a similar vein.

Kill List (2011) I'd heard a lot about this little movie. Though it was hard to understand the accents (I've never had this problem to this degree before) the movie was a special treat. Good performances, dialogue and an interesting idea.

Maniac (2012) This Elijah Wood starring remake of the classic flew far below the radar. I'm not sure why, as it is fucking excellent.

The Collector (2009), The Collection (2012) I didn't think it was possible to create a new monster. I also didn't think that this story would work at all, like Saw in a big house full of traps. I didn't even bother to watch it for years. But it was pretty fun, especially the first one.

World War Z (2013) Nothing like the book. Who cares?

I Saw the Devil (2010) Kim Jee-woon (A Tale of Two Sisters) brings the intense crazy with Stormshadow at the forefront. (Didn't understand any of that? That's okay.) Movie rules.

Grave Encounters (2011) This has been played out by now for sure. Ghost hunters, big old building, hand held cams. Still, it was a pretty good little ride.

V/H/S (2012), V/H/S 2 (2013) Anthology horror films are great, because they get multiple opportunities to be successful. Not everything in these films is fantastic, but there are some new ideas and some great execution. Really enjoyed the first one especially.

I Spit On Your Grave (2010) Never thought I'd dig this remake, but I put that shit aside like a champion. Dudes get ruined, Keith laughs.

The ABCs of Death (2012) Another anthology, this one with 26 shorts. Super fun, and a great way to find new and fun directors in the genre.

Would You Rather (2012) This was way more fun that I thought it would be. Pretty straightforward set up, with the titular game as the base layer of a torture cake. What makes it is the great Jeffrey Combs chewing up the scenery as the game's host.

Short Answer: I've also recently seen James Wan's The Conjuring and Insidious 2. They each had their moments, but neither felt like anything fresh. Now that Mr. Wan has been established with a mainstream hit, I'd like to see him take more risks like he did early on.

Thursday, October 30, 2014

Question: Why is the sky blue?

That's something like an answer to this. It's tough, because no one knows why the sky is blue. It's a big mystery, like crop circles, bigfoot, orbs -

I actually just got bored with my smarmy response.

The color blue travels in shorter waves than other colors. When light hits all the bazillion molecules in the atmosphere, blue is scattered the most. That's why we see blue.

There. I answered it.

Short Answer: Bigfoot doesn't exist. We would have seen him by now. He's too big.

Wednesday, October 29, 2014

Question: Why are fools and their money soon parted?

When I read this question, I heard the phrase 'who farted?' and it made me laugh. Therefore I officially had more fun reading this question than you will have reading the answer.

In 1573, in Thomas Tusser's Five Hundreth Pointes of Good Husbandrie, he said:

A foole & his money,
be soone at debate:
which after with sorow,
repents him to late.

Besides being a bad speller, he was right on the parted money.

Some say that it was one Dr. John Bridges (in Defence of the Government of the Church of England) about 15 years later who solidified the statement into what we now recognize.

If they pay a penie or two pence more for the reddinesse of them..let them looke to that, a foole and his money is soone parted.

His spelling wasn't much better and yet there is wisdome in it. Or wysdom, or wisdoem. Or penie. Tee-hee.

The answer to your question is that fools part with lots of stuff. They'll part their hair, and they'll part the bumcheeks of a prostitute of unknown gender. They basically get themselves caught up in all sorts of shenanigans (or he-nanigans as the case may be.) Fools part with their money because they don't have the good sense to roll that shit up tight and hide it with the dead bodies. Instead they'd rather 'live life' and 'have a good time' and 'discover balls where none were expected'.

Short Answer: Hey, if it makes you happy, make it rain. Only other people are calling you a fool, and what the fuck does their opinion matter?

Tuesday, October 28, 2014

Question: How do you feel about this Vrbata guy so far?

Pretty hard not to feel good about him. 5 goals, 5 assists in eight games? He's projecting career highs so far, which is ridiculous and misleading, but still.

This is a question about the Vancouver Canucks, and the new player they got in the off-season. If you don't care about hockey, here's a joke for you.

An existentialist walks into a bar.
"Are you even in a bar?" asked the bartender.
"Don't be a prick," said the existentialist.


For those who are now searching for meaning in the above joke, you won't find any.

Double Tah-Dorp!

Existentialism is a little like schizophrenia. It doesn't really mean what you think. But the only other option I could think of for the joke was 'second year philosophy major'. That doesn't work as well because college students don't go to bars/don't use foul language/have no legs or something.

These sports questions are tough because I know a bunch of people don't care about them. With any other sort of question I don't mind if some people are alienated because I can still find humour. There's not a lot funny about a person excelling at sport, or the disappointment of a city over their team sucking the balls. Sports is a pretty serious thing. Until a boxer gets hit in the groin. Then it's a laugh riot.

Short Answer: I think Vrbata will do well this season as long as he doesn't fall through a manhole in the ice, comically leaving the frame.

Monday, October 27, 2014

Question: Am I eating too many halloween treats?

My first answer will be for the general public.

First Answer: Yes. You have no self-control and you're killing yourself. You're killing yourself!

The second answer will be for my wife, who has informed that she was the one who asked me this question.

Second Answer: No. Keep it up. I fucking love that fat ass!

Short Answer: Haven't we all had enough candy and answers for one day?

Sunday, October 26, 2014

Question: Who do you think is the best talk show host?

First time this has ever happened back to back, but here's another question that I've answered before. This one I tackled almost four years ago:

I think that my estimates proved fairly accurate. Jimmy Fallon ended up with the Tonight Show, so there you go. My opinion has not changed on the matter. The only think that has changed in the late night television scope is the addition of Seth Meyers. He's okay. He'll improve. His monologue is stilted, and he can't decide where to put his desk, but I like his guests. And his connection with SNL makes for some pretty awesome behind the scenes stories and comedy ideas.

Obviously Leno is gone and Letterman and Ferguson are leaving. How things change in only a few years. I guess this would be a question to revisit once Ferguson has been replaced and Stephen Colbert has begun his run.

Short Answer: I like Kimmel more, now that I've given him a chance. I think he's great for his particular demographic. Hmmm. Saying someone is great for their particular demographic isn't really saying much at all. That's like complimenting someone for getting the food in their mouth. Oh well.

Saturday, October 25, 2014

Question: Why do fools fall in love?

That there above this here is the link to the July 2012 post where I answered the above the line above this line question.

Read that again. I swear it makes sense.

My feelings on the subject haven't changed all that much, though now I think that some people are more foolish when they get involved with another person than others. There are those who aren't really in love, they just decide they are because they think it's missing from their lives.

This often happens because the person they want to be in love with has a huge pair of breasts, or whatever the equivalent for that is in male bathing suit parts.

Love is great. But so is jacking off to videos of people falling off their skateboards onto their testicles. You don't need another person to find something you can masturbate to, and masturbation is often better than sex, especially if that sex is with a new partner who isn't familiar with how you like your holes fondled.

Short Answer: Because I didn't mention it the first time, Why Do Fools Fall In Love? is also a song by Frankie Lymon and The Teenagers from 1956. It's also good to jack off to.

Friday, October 24, 2014

Question: Would you have sex with Timberlake?

I've thought long and hard about this.

(The above line is humorous. The reason that it is humorous is because to have sexual intercourse with a man, in some capacity one must employ the erect penis. During sexual arousal the male sex organ gets both long and hard. Sometimes - I hear - it even stays that way for more than two and a quarter minutes.)

No. I've tried to imagine it. I've tried to imagine it so hard just now that I'm a little gayer than I was when I woke up this morning and read the new issue of Chatelaine. The thing is, sex with men for jokes is great, but I happen to be heterosexual. Please don't judge me; I was born this way. I can't help it.

Being a heterosexual, it is difficult for me to achieve and maintain an erection while attempting sexual congress with another male. Having said this, I'm pretty sure I could fire one off if I was watching Timberlake fuck my wife.

Short Answer: Timberlake does deserve my love, it's just something he can never have. I guess his life will forever be incomplete and he'll have to return to his millions of dollars and his every other desire fulfilled at the snap of his Jessica Biel probing fingers. To say I feel terrible is an understatement. Excuse me while I eat three pop tarts for supper and go over my financials, i.e., count the seven dollars in my 'bank sock'.

Thursday, October 23, 2014

Question: Who is the best boxer in the world right now?

I obviously don't have to say much about this.

Gennady Golovkin.

Undefeated as a professional. Current IBO and WBA middleweight champion of the world.

Wait for it...

90% knockout average.

That's right. 31-0 as a professional. 28 wins by KO.

He's that guy you get excited to watch, and you think, "He can't do it again, can he?" And then he knocks the next guy the fuck out. I haven't seen anything like it, not since Tyson. It's great for boxing to know you can watch a fighter and you're going to get exactly what you expect.

Short Answer: Don't get me wrong, I like a good boxing match. I'm not one to go to a race to see the crashes, but holy shit, knockouts are the best!

*Note: I guess if you consider a 'fighter' and a 'boxer' two different kinds of professional prize-fighters, it would be irresponsible of me not to mention that Floyd Mayweather has proven himself to be the best pound for pound boxer in the world over the last decade. But I don't like watching a dude dance for a half-hour and then be a total asshole. I think Andre Ward deserves a mention here, too, as another candidate for the best in the world right now. I also really like Sergey Kovalev because he knocks dudes the fuck out. By the way, for those who think I hold Golovkin too high in my esteem, take into account that he has a hard time getting big fights, because people are afraid of getting murdered on TV.

Wednesday, October 22, 2014

Question: What is the cutest/ugliest animal?


red panda
Labrador puppy
slow loris
certain ferrets
teddy bear hamster
sea otter
grizzly bear
baby owl
sugar glider
big ass bunny rabbits


horseshoe crab
mole rat
proboscis monkey
llama with under bite and bowl cut
star nosed mole
goblin shark
blob fish
cave spider
Clint Howard
sea pig
wide-headed vagina worm (this one isn't real)

Short Answer: These are the correct answers.

Tuesday, October 21, 2014

Question: What were your favorite comics as a child?

I remember these small little books, like the size of a novel but thinner. I don't know what they were called, but I was given one of these and it had a bunch of DC stories in it, including Aquaman fighting with Black Manta and an origin for Superboy. At the end of the book was a full gallery of all the members of the Legion of Superheroes. I liked this book a lot, because it was my first, and Aquaman and the Legion stuck.

Not long after I was given a box of hand-me-down comics from my uncles. There was a long run of the Flash, some amazing old Justice Society books (or All-Star Squadron), and some Iron man. Again, Flash, JSA and Iron Man stuck, and I've been a fan ever since.

I remember the first comic I ever bought. It was a double sized (maybe even bigger) crossover issue of Spider-Man and Daredevil, introducing the character of Speedball. (Speedball later went on to become Penance in one of the lamest to coolest transformations ever.) I loved that book, because I bought it with my own money. And I loved the back and forth hijinks and banter between Spidey and Daredevil. It cemented Daredevil as a favorite of mine for life.

I also recall reading The Phantom at the end of the television guide where I grew up. Then Billy Zane played the titular character in the movie, and that hurt my fandom for The Phantom. It's not your fault, Billy Zane. It's not your fault.

I also have strong recollections of a few other characters from when I was young, Ice-Man and The Spectre probably being my favorites.

Short Answer: I went away from comics in my teen years, and rediscovered them over a decade later. I've never been a collector, but I have a small little trove of trade paperbacks that I keep on my bookshelf.

Monday, October 20, 2014

Question: Is it a stereotype if it's true?

Let me translate this question for all who don't understand it.

"Is it okay for me to be a horrible racist whenever I see an opportunity?"

Yes, some stereotypes - if not all - come from truth. But to assume that stereotypes are always true, is basically racial profiling.

Now if you're using this principle to make an hilarious joke, so be it. That's what racism is for. It's to make people laugh at how ridiculous things are. But if you see a white cab driver and say, "Where'd you get the white face, guy who's obviously from somewhere near India" then you might be using stereotypes for evil.

Here's the truth as I see it. There are Asian people who are terrific drivers, African-American people who would never steal your bike, and Mexicans that don't smell like old tacos. So yes, it's still a stereotype even if it's true, because there will always be someone of some color, race or creed who isn't a good driver, or loves collecting bikes, or rubs themselves with burrito meat. But it's kind of a technicality.

Short Answer: Some stereotypes can be made from nothing. For example, Newfoundlanders hate eyebrows. Now, if you heard that, then saw a Newfoundlander totally digging on eyebrows, would you think the stereotype is true, or that whoever made up the stereotype is nuts and he got lucky this time? Just 'cause there's fire, don't mean there's smoke. Or is it the other way around? I'm not sure I even understood this question.

Sunday, October 19, 2014

Question: Pooped it?

So I just recently asked for some questions. I do run low from time to time, and when that happens I put out a call on Twitter and Facebook. This time, for whatever reason, the response was overwhelming. Usually, I prioritize the questions that come through this site's question asker mechanism because I want to encourage people who visit to use that method. Some people don't know me on social media, they only find me through Google searches, and I want them to feel welcome participating from a question-y standpoint.

Today, this was the next question in line that came from the website. But because I have gotten so many questions from so many sources, I wasn't sure that I was going to continue prioritizing this way, and in such a linear fashion. But I was thinking about poop as I read it, so it had to be.

I think about poop a lot. It's because I have a very sensitive anus (not from all the man love, I'm more of a giver) and it gets aggravated quite easily. Because of this, I have to drink a lot of water and eat a lot of fibre. If I do a good job, I'll poop every day, and that's somehow - in a backwards logic sort of way - easier on my business.

When I was young, I used to poop once every five to six days. Even when I was a highly tuned athlete in my pre-twenties, this was my natural cycle. And let it be known, in case it hasn't occurred to you, that when I would defecate, it would be momentous. Like a barbed, hundred-train car forcing its way through a squidgy tunnel. I could fill a bowl, I kid you not. And variety! Oh, my! There could be three different kinds of poop in that one, Herculean mega-poop.

I was thinking about poop as I read this question, because I have not yet pooped today. I got drunk last night and slept in, throwing off my cycles. And sadly, what I was thinking was, "I hope I poop soon." This is my life. Every one has one like it, but this life is mine.

Short Answer: Not yet. But here's to hoping. Or pooping! Yay!

Saturday, October 18, 2014

Question: Why do some people still not believe the moon landing actually happened?

I remember seeing that episode of the Big Bang Theory where they go up on the roof and shoot a laser at the moon. It hits something that the astronauts left there and bounces back. At that time, I thought, "How the fuck do people still think this didn't happen?"

I mean, here is an exact example of how science can prove something (even if the delivery method is 'sitcom') and people can still ignore that shit and come up with their own nonsense. It takes maybe half an hour to go online and learn that man was on the moon. Irrefutable evidence in less time than it takes to drink a cup of coffee.

(Sorry. I got trapped in an analogy. Or maybe I just drink coffee over a longer period of time than you, ya judgemental prick.)

People need to believe something. They need mystery, and menace, and a topic to rant about at hootenannies. And the truth is, there are still a lot of people in the world who don't have access to the wealth of information that is available to the privileged; for some, the information age is still a decent computer away.

So there's really no excuse when a person who does have access to all the world's knowledge decides to take a stand on dubious facts. I saw a television show one time that refuted every single point that people make when they claim the moon landing was faked. But to refuters, that's bias. Somehow, when you believe something strongly enough, facts become bias. Even though you have no facts of your own, and the condemnation of better research is hypocritical, you have to stick to your guns, because if you don't you won't have anything to talk about at the next box social and everyone will think you're lame.

You know, like what greedy fuckers do with climate change.

Short Answer: I once watched an extensive documentary about how crop circles were man-made. It was thorough, unbiased and scientific. I tried to talk about it with a guy at a party who 'believes' in crop circles, and his answer to every point was something along the lines of "That's what they want you to believe." Apparently there's a lot of money being spent to keep things hush-hush. Wonder how long that'll hold up in this age of information? Oh, right. It doesn't.

Friday, October 17, 2014

Question: What kind of old person do you want to be?

Right now I don't want to be any kind of old person. I want to be the age I am or younger, if that's at all possible. Younger would be great. If I was twenty again, I would tear up a lot of poon.

Anywho, the kind of old person I would like to be is the kind that gets away with blatant acts of sexual harassment or even assault. You know, that old man that grabs the nurse's butt when she bends over? Just picture my face on that wrinkly, old skeleton.

Also, I want to be filthy and foul-mouthed, in that adorable 'I'm old and I can no longer get in trouble for this' sort of way. Like calling people cunts all the time, and talking about my long balls.

I also hope to be wise, and likeable like George Burns, and sexy like Tom Selleck. If I can nail one of these I'll be happy.

I also would like to have a post-old period of time, like when I'm even older than a hundred. Where I'm no longer able to be as adorable, but I'm still incredibly aware and crotchety. I think that's when the best nurse-ass will be grabbed, even though my fingers will be feeble and unable to inflict much damage.

Short Answer: Sometimes I wonder if I really am some experiment where they put a dirty old man's brain into a younger man's body, to see if he'd be funny or if people would want to punch him in the dick. Turns out, both theories were correct.

Thursday, October 16, 2014

Question: Clif Bar, CliffsNotes or Cliff Clavin?

What about Cliffhanger with Sylvester Stallone? Right, that would have made the choice too easy. I get it now.

You don't need Cliff Clavin 'cause you got Norm.
And you don't CliffsNotes because you got Coles Notes.
Then again, you don't need Clif Bars because there are a million kinds of protein bars.


I'd rather take a note than go to a bar, or get a Clavin. What's a Clavin you ask? That's when a dog tears someone's throat out. It's called a Clavin because the 'mailman' won't be talking anymore.

You ever start writing something and no matter what you do, you just can't find what's funny? No, I guess there aren't that many people writing comedy out there. And I guess if you do write comedy, this is a harsh truth of your every day existence and me pointing it out isn't all that nice.

Can we just go back to Sylvester Stallone? He's funny. He's like three hundred years old and he's still made of one solid muscle. It's terrifying.

Short Answer: Despite the humour of the name Cliff, there wasn't much to mine for in terms of laughs, here. Maybe it's just from lack of personal experience. I don't eat Clif Bars and I don't need Coles Notes because I'm super attractive, and Cliff Clavin is annoying and I don't care about him. I hear he's not even real. So all of these things can take a flying suck it.

Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Questions: What are your marketable skills?

Leave me alone, Mom.

I do this one thing really well. Let me try to describe it.

If someone says something, and there's a little room for a joke, I can come up with that joke very quickly and it's usually of a medium to high quality.

How is this marketable you ask?

I have no fucking clue.

The problem is, despite my high percentages, it's not foolproof or perfect. I can't go on tour as the 'off the top of his head every time joking man' (this title was off the top of my head, for example, and it's terrible). Because all I have to do is freeze up once and I'm out.

This blog is the best I've been able to come up with. I'm not sure if all my fans understand this, but most times, even with poetry and long form jokes, I write the answer the moment I see the question. Often, I write the post very, very quickly. What you see here, if you think it's at all funny, is not material that I've been working on for years, or even hours. Most likely, I've not even spent minutes. I go with the first thing that sweeps into my mind.

People who know me personally have often suggested I should channel my only skill into stand-up or attempt to get a job writing for a television show. Not being my dream jobs, I see the merit of these suggestions, but up until now have been unwilling to pursue those goals with any fervor, nor have I taken the time to figure out just how to pursue them.

Comedy is in many ways still a hobby for me. And yet it may very well be what I'm most good at. That's troubling, as it means I spend a lot of time each day getting better and better at writing of a different sort. But maybe that's what this blog is for, to teach me to write better comedy. Is it working? I guess that's for you to decide.

Tits, bum, fart.

Short Answer: I'm a pretty good digger, though my hands get sore easily. You'll need to supply gloves.

*Note: For those not in the know, my other writing is of the short story/novel variety. And if being able to write prose was a marketable skill of mine, I wouldn't need you people and this shitty blog!

Tuesday, October 14, 2014

Question: Tell us a story...


Fine. Here's a damn story. It's 7:51 and I've been up for nearly an hour. Why you ask without a question mark? Well I'll tell you why.

I had a fucking dream where I was going out with my wife to some event. We'd just recently seen a scary trailer on the two televisions in our room, and so when I went back inside to get something, I was a little scared, almost expecting to find something bad. But I also knew it was silly. Ha-ha. Innocent and silly.

So I notice in the huge mirror in our bedroom that there's something wrong. I think, "Don't be silly, that's not a person sitting in front of the mirror." With typical dream logic, I attempt to backhand the thing that's sitting in front of the mirror. It's solid, corporeal, real. I pick it up by the hair and hold it up, and sure enough, it's my wife's mother's decapitated head.

I get a pretty good look before my wife's alarm wakes me up. This is jarring, and yet perhaps better than a continued dream. Only, my wife sets her alarm so she can snooze it a few times before getting up, so despite my initial relief and brief respite, I'm back to the dream in a few heartbeats.

But now real life is mixed up in the dream. Now I'm in bed, remembering how scary finding the severed head was, and wondering why there's a devil tail rising from the sheets of my bed. I try to rationalize it away, but can't quite think of what it could be instead of a devil tail. I decide the best thing to do is retrieve a hockey stick a throw a tantrum in the middle of the room, whacking the stick on the ground to wake my wife up, because I can't be dealing with no devil tails.

Though there is a possibility that I'm now awake and freaking out with a hockey stick, my wife's alarm goes off a second time, and as it turns out, I'm still tucked peacefully into bed.


Then she gets up and proceeds to get ready for work. I doze a little, still feeling kinda scared. Eventually, she's done getting dressed and she exits the room, closing the door behind her. As the light from the hallway diminishes, turning from sliver to darkness, I think, "Be a man. Just roll over and go back to sleep. You'll be fine. Just because you're alone, doesn't mean a real severed head is going to show up or anything."

So I roll over, go back to sleep and only a few minutes later, I fart loudly and wake myself up, terrified.

I'm up now, at least until the sun rises.

Short Answer: Hoisted by my own fart-ard.

Monday, October 13, 2014

Question: What do you prefer?

I'm guessing this question had more to it, and you forgot to send the other bit. Maybe I'll get the rest of it later. Sadly, I can't know for sure, so I might as well go ahead and answer this part as best I can.

I prefer sand walks on the beach.
I prefer late night sleeping.
I prefer hands on fornication.
I prefer movies with words and pictures.
I prefer art that someone else told me was good.
I prefer sounds that come from something that breathes.
I prefer the definition of words to alternate interpretations.
I prefer innocence until proven shameful.
I prefer my own interpretation of the pyramids.
I prefer jam to eat, but jelly to say.
I prefer pizza.
I prefer psalms to hymns.
I prefer sighs to sobs.
I prefer highs to lows.
I prefer skies that glow.
I prefer hatred wasted and love spent.
I prefer poetry to sunshine.
I prefer rain to poets.
I prefer happiness over acceptance.
I prefer writing that evolves.
I prefer jokes that come naturally.
I prefer things that take on a life of their own.
I prefer justification through honesty.

Short Answer: I prefer longer answers.

Sunday, October 12, 2014

Question: Sex euphemisms on the mic, gooooooooo!

the ugly stand-in
backstage antics
dig the stuffing from the cavity
the juicy fruit
Mexican cold plate
the Hercules of the Andes
separate the fat layers
haul on the curtains
glaze the cronut
step on the butterfly
dolphin encounter
lick the bowl
lick the beaters
beat the bowl licker
be polite to Aunt Sandy
sink the Titanic
bury the booty
raise ass taxes
hoist your petard
smash pumpkins

Short Answer: French press or surrender to the French? That's right. My short answer was a question. What are you gonna do about it? Ha! That was another question. Could this go on all day? Maybe!

Saturday, October 11, 2014

Question: Caramel on your sundae?

Yowzers. Better be careful where you ask this question.

Like, I wouldn't be pleased if I heard this through the bathroom door while I was on the terlet. Or if I was in full-bore 69 position with a lady of the nighthookers. Or if I was a gynecologist dealing with a patient.

To answer literally, fuck no. I'm a fudge guy. Oh, boy, that came out wrong.

And is also possibly the worst thing to say in any of those above situations. Especially the 69. You don't want to get waxed by a lady who's probably had all the gonorrheas.

Short Answer: Gee, Keith, it's Saturday? What do you need to accomplish? Oh, nothing. Just got to write a piece where I get shit on by a diseased hooker.

Friday, October 10, 2014

Question: Are you a practitioner of Jiu-Jitsu?

Who isn't? Though I do the original Japanese jiu-jitsu, not that rolling on the floor stuff. Don't get me wrong, I understand that fights often end up on the ground, and Brazilian jiu-jitsu has been proved to be the best martial art for that particular circumstance, I just don't like feeling the heat of another man's paunchy genitals near my face and/or scrotum.

I like to use a very direct hybrid of hapkido and slappy beats when engaged with a virile opponent. Sometimes I'll also employ whipping it out, crying like a car that won't start, and piss-flickery.

I'm also a big fan of using the Hawaiian bone breaking martial art on men's bones.

Short Answer: I mean their dongs.

Thursday, October 9, 2014

Question: #Garbagedick


We've officially done it. I've been writing this blog for more than four years, just waiting for this to happen. We've managed to distill the experience down to nothingness.

Not only is this not a question, it's not even a statement. It is just a hashtag. And not only is it just a hashtag, it's a hashtag of two words jammed together for seemingly no good reason.

Boy oh boy.

I guess even the job of blog writer can have its tough days.



Short Answer: This is what I get.

Wednesday, October 8, 2014

Question: Can you tell me why all the leaves are brown and the sky is grey?

You might have passed out on your bathroom floor amidst your post-blackout defecation.

That, or you're stuck in an overrated song by the Mamas and the Papas.

Or, you're outside. It's probably Autumn where you live, or Fall where you live, depending on where you live. Why do we have two names for only one season? Why doesn't Winter get an extra name? We could call it Die. And then Summer could be called Boil. And then Spring could be called Huinmn, or something, because huin means spring in Etruscan, the language that the prefix autu comes from.

Oh, what was that sound? Was that knowledge hitting the floor as if someone had recently...a-dropped it!

Short Answer: The word Autumn came through French and Latin, so 'Huinmn' might not be exactly right. I just figured I'd ignore all possibly vowel additions. Hard to figure out what vowels they would have used when fucking with words over the years. You might assume Huinumn, based on a few things like guessing and not caring anymore.

Tuesday, October 7, 2014

Question: Is there any reason to fear my bookshelf?

I guess if you fear knowledge and betterment. Is betterment a word? Sounds like gum.

Or if you don't use it as a bookshelf. Like if you store your typhoid and war mauls there, and it's super rickety. Is rickety a word? Sounds like a drunk person hiccupping in the middle of saying a name.

Or if your bookshelf once killed a man, and even though it did its time in the back of a storage locker, now that it's out and once more full of books, the ghost of that dead man is back, and anyone who reads from the shelf will be doomed forever to an eternity of forever doom and things argghhh-boooooo! Argh-boo is definitely not a word. That sounds like the ghost was on the toilet when you came home, and had to squeeze out the last of his ecto-dump super quick 'cause he was supposed to scare you.

Ghost: "Ah, shit? Really? Now. One second, one second! Argghghghhg- boo! Boooo! Did I get you? Dammit."

You: "I fear this bookshelf."

Short Answer: I suppose it's possible that if your books were always being reorganized, and the pages flapped in the night and sometimes the books were stacked oddly or sent hurtling through the room at your head, you might want to be cautious of an impending paper cut. Oh, and watch your soul.

Monday, October 6, 2014

Question: What would be the name of your comedy special?

Ask Keith Anything:

Comedy Indoors
What an Elephant Forgets
Are the Cunt Police Going to Spray Me With Douche?
Carrot Bottom
Featuring Delta Burke
When Not to Punt
Bring Your Children
19 Pieces of Silver
Duck Poop
An Episode of Cagney and Lacey
A Night Without Doctors Without Borders
Maybe When I'm Older
Topical Climates
My Teddy Bear Played With Me

Short Answer: I guess Short Answer would be a pretty good title, wouldn't it?

Sunday, October 5, 2014

Question: Seems like there should be some fall type stuff to talk about.

I think I might change the site to 'Say Shit at Keith' or 'Don't Bother Asking Keith Questions' or 'Question Marks are for Losers and Questions are Dumb' or 'What's a Question, 'Cause I Only Eat Poo and When Made Available to Me, My Own Poo'.

Fall stuff, eh?

I love the fall. I've probably proclaimed my love of fall a bunch on blog, so there's no real reason to get too far into that. I love the temperature, the smell, the approaching holidays, the turkey, the horror movies the lack of undercarriage sweat and the re-stuffening of my face after a summer of trying to be attractive enough for belly shirts and speedos.

The only think I don't like about fall is the tiny percent of people who seem to want to skip over immediately to Christmas. Now I love Christmas, but if you make it a three month thing, it loses its potency. I'm definitely a wait until November at least kind of guy. October should be for gravy and pumpkins and such.

Short Answer: I'm a full blown falloholic. I love chestnuts and falling leaves and tree death.

Saturday, October 4, 2014

Question: Gargantuan scrotum?

Nah, I'm good. I'll just have the cheesesteak.

Yea, that's right. That's what this question said to me. It said, "There's this restaurant, see? (And it's a gangster apparently.) And it's called Gargantuan Scrotums and Cheesesteaks only the name is misleading because the cheesesteaks are regular size."

Plus, I wouldn't know how to eat a gargantuan scrotum. Do you put mustard on it? Are they grilling it? I assume so, if they also make cheesesteaks. Do they serve it with fried onions, or mushrooms, or peppers? Is it the texture of a sopping wet leather wallet, or the lightly fried skin from the back of an old lady's hand? Do they use cheesesteak cheese sauce? If so, is it the provolone stuff or straight up whiz? Do I get a damn choice?

As you can plainly see, this question has brought up way more questions. There may be no simple answer, not anymore. There are too many cheesesteak-like options to know.

Scrote Answer, I mean Short Answer: I misspelled cheesesteak every time I attempted to spell it in this post, and each time was a different and original spelling. Yet for someone reason, I spelled gargantuan scrotum exactly right each and every time.

Friday, October 3, 2014

Question: I just went back and read all of November 2011 and nearly laughter crapped at my desk.

This isn't a question, and typically you'd get berated at least a little, but I thought 'laughter crapped' was super funny so I refuse to reprimand you.

I have now also gone back and reviewed November 2011. I have deduced that you are correct, and taking a surprise doozer at work is an appropriate to mandatory response.

Out of Context Highlights from November 2011:

"First, lay the little bugger down on his belly, feet splayed out. Take two fingers and rub along the 'thigh' muscles, gently but firmly. Hamsters carry a lot of their tension in their thighs."

"Boo-Yag! Double Boo-Yag!"

"On the other vagina, he has passed through and beyond your wife's holiest of holies, and I like to slap a down low five with every dude who bangs my wife. To say that my hand is sore would be an understatement, on that front."

"Question: How do dragons do it?
One dragon lays an egg, then the other dragon comes along and shits on it.
Short Answer: I didn't get much sleep last night."

"Sorry, officer, Puma Albert was just looking for love."
"You named your puma Puma Albert?"
"Fuck you, copper!"

"One way to get the Yeti to use the toilet is to plant a tree in your bathroom, but I also find leaving Yeti friendly magazines near the toilet can encourage a good sit down BM. Mags such as Rock and Garden, Sub-Zero Sluts and Feet work well, though if you have attempted to domesticate the informed Yeti, I'd probably go with something more like The Yeti Economist."

"Question: Can you write a short blurb about Remembrance Day which includes a dick or fart joke that also manages to remain tasteful?
Remembrance Day is a day to remember. And don't forget dicks and farts.
Short Answer: Remaining tasteful is very subjective. Like the all-male inner city porno New New Jack City. (Directed by Mario Van Peeholes and starring Chris Cock, but somehow not starring Cuba Boning Jr.)"

"Delta Burke made the pig that way so she could drink it down like a milkshake."

I think that's probably enough for this lazy, compilation episode of Ask Keith Anything.

Short Answer: And my favorite short answers from November 2011: "I like boobs more than beards, especially on my face." and "I'm pretty sure that in most physical contests I could at least draw with a dinosaur."

Thursday, October 2, 2014

Question: Are you scared of Ebola?

I love that everyone spells it with a capital E. I don't think that's necessary.

Wait, never mind. Ebola is a river in Zaire. It's supposed to be capitalized.


Yes I'm scared of Ebola. Even though I heard a lady on the radio say that the chances of an outbreak here are super slim, I saw a horror movie once out of Hong Kong that was all about Ebola. (It was called Ebola Syndrome, in fact.) It was one of those gross out movies where a dude brought the virus back and went to a restaurant and spread it around by puking and having pink chunks fall off his face. I'd rather that didn't happen to my face, so I'm scared.

One side of my brain says: This is just a thing right now, you know, the thing that people are talking about that they won't be in a few months. Then some asshat comes on the TV and says, "There will be a million cases by the end of the year." That makes me feel like I'm going to die from it.

But let's get some perspective. I'm frightened of the cheese grater.

Short Answer: I'm pretty sure we don't need to be scared, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't try to minimize the impact. Shitload of people getting sick.

Wednesday, October 1, 2014

Question: What question would you like to be asked today?

I'd rather be losing at bingo right now than have to make up my own question.


I'd rather be:

on a segway at the running of the bulls
an electromagnet fastened to the ground near the Eiffel tower
a burning man at burning man
inspecting old freezer hot dogs for 'consumptability'
jarring human testicles for winter
walking my daughter down the aisle to marry an entrepreneur
hung by my ankles above 3 pounds of jumping spiders
hearing the valet grind up my car
facing the Jabberwocky without my vorpal sword
watching a Star Trek marathon comprised solely of The Final Frontier and Insurrection
watching a Star Wars marathon comprised solely of Send in the Clones and the Christmas special
doing jumping jacks in a crotchless leotard at my grandmother's birthday party
figure skating in competition
taking my driver's test
holding the dress of my freshly buried wife while waking up from a dream that she'd returned
lemon juicing my road rash
breeding look horses as gifts
watching my aunt wax her chest in 3D
employed as a writer on (fill in horrible reality show title)
the crotch-puckerer at a Marky Mark photo shoot
the spokesperson for bowel parasites
the villain at a funeral
in charge of coats
going down on a homeless guy on stage at my high school reunion (*This is not my joke. It's from the brilliant website I read it there about five years ago, and it's stuck with me because it's the funniest one of these I ever heard.)

Short Answer: I'd rather be schmoozing at a party full of ancient yet nubile aristocrats looking to bed an artist for an amount of money that I won't be able to refuse. Actually, that's not so bad. I'd fuck a leather pocketbook for a few grand.