December 30, 2006

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I take it you are all well past Christmas now and preparing for New Years Eve. I'm really looking forward to New Years Eve this year (well I actually do every year). The menu looks delicious, I've bought some huge rockets and a lot of good friends and relatives are coming over. Unfortunately the weather doesn't seem to agree. Looks like its getting really stormy and we might even get some rain. Nevertheless I'll propably be busy watching over the dish washer. Let me tell you a story that happened five days ago.

Last Monday I “helped” by taking the dishes out of the dishwasher and putting them in the cupboard. I did all of the plates and cups and glasses and bowls first. Then I put away the larger serving spoons and odds and ends. The last step was the flatware.

But some of the flatware was clearly unwashed.

Oh shit.

All of the other dishes were clean. Or at least cleanish. But these two butter knives had butter on them. I had two theories:

1.     The dishwasher had run but someone later put a few dirty butter knives in there by mistake. Didde's grandparents slept overnight after Christmas.

2.     None of the dishes were clean and I had put them back in the cupboards.

This sort of thing never happens if I’m the one who loaded the dishwasher in the first place because I don’t first rinse everything. I put dishes in there dirty and proud, so you know when the dishwasher has run. But these dishes COULD have been merely rinsed by someone more thorough.

I decided to leave the dirty flatware and just be quiet about the stuff I put away, under the theory that it would be better if I never knew how many dirty dishes I had put away and later reused. This theory was working great until…

Didde: “Why is the dishwasher empty except for these dirty forks and knives and spoons?”

Me: “Um…Because everything else was washed?”

Didde: “I don’t think so. I think it was all dirty. What happened to all of those dirty dishes?”

Me” “Um…I’m pretty sure the rest of that stuff was totally clean. So…I…put it away.”

Didde: “Even Eros’ bowl?”

Now at this point in the story you have to know that Eros is my parent’s dog ,who amongst other, we celebrated Christmas with. Eros' temporary dog bowl was one of our everyday bowls. That meant there was a 1-in-4 chance that I would be the one who ended up eating cereal out of the dog’s dirty (yet rinsed!) bowl.

So I caved in and unloaded all of the dirty dishes from the cupboards back to the dishwasher – at least the ones I remembered.

My long term goal is to develop such a reputation for household incompetence that I am never again asked to do anything around the house. So far my plan is right on track.


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Merry Christmas to all my readers!

December 24, 2006

Merry Christmas to all my readers. Thank you very much for dropping by.


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Frickin’ Komodo Dragons

December 24, 2006

The Middle Ages was a great time to be a guy. In those days, men were the kings of their castles. Guys made the rules because being large and strong were the two most important things. If a wild boar attacked a family’s twig-and-mud hovel, it was the man’s job to beat the boar to death with a big rock. A woman understood that she was safer with a man around, even if he sometimes got drunk and confused her with a wild boar. But nothing good lasts forever.

As time went by, men became less and less important. Fast forward to the present day and women have jobs and educations and money. The only thing that women need from men is the occasional sex and even less occasional impregnation.

Then we see in the news that Miss USA has been making out with Miss Teen USA and totally legitimizing the heterosexual girl-on-girl concept. Those two didn’t start the trend, but I’ll bet they made it a lot more popular. Now straight women everywhere are thinking, “Wait a minute…you mean I can just date other women? Sweet!” How is a guy going to compete with that?

And then – when I thought things couldn’t get any worse – the final straw. I recently read that a Komodo dragon in a British zoo had babies without ever being around a male Komodo dragon. My first reaction to that story was to wonder if the zoo keeper was getting some Komodo poontang after hours. I don’t think there’s any precedent for a human knocking up a reptile, but there’s no precedent for a Komodo dragon having a baby without a male Komodo dragon’s participation either. So in terms of explanatory power, I say it’s a toss up.

But let’s say the scientists are right this time. They did check the DNA, presumably to rule out the humans. And apparently there are other lizard species that can have a baby without a male. STOP GIVING OUR HUMAN WOMEN IDEAS, YOU STUPID LIZARDS!!!

As soon as human women can become pregnant via a process of “wanting to,” or whatever the Komodo dragons were doing, there’s really no point in having men around at all.

The only hope for men is that the energy crisis continues to worsen. In China there’s a technology where the methane gas from pigs kept in the pen outside is piped into the house and used for cooking. Someday men will be living in pens, with copper tubes up their asses to provide methane to the house occupied by hot heterosexual women who are getting pregnant just by concentrating hard.

I say bring back the Middle Ages, but with more soap and better dentistry.

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Failing a Gender Test

December 22, 2006

The BBC reports that a female Indian athlete who recently won a silver medal in a regional competition has failed a gender test. Seriously.

I have to think that of all the tests you could fail, a gender test would be the most embarrassing. The article is a bit sketchy on the test itself but it reportedly involves an endocrinologist, psychologist, and gynecologist.

I have to wonder what the psychologist’s test looked like, since other experts were checking her junk. I assume there was some sort of highly offensive, stereotypical, and sexist written exam. It probably looked like this:

1. Shopping is…
  a. A fascinating experience that is even better when shared.
  b. A method used to extract secrets from terrorists.

2. What does “nothing is wrong” mean?
  a. Start guessing and apologizing or I’ll kill you in your sleep.
  b. Oh shit.

3. The best time for sex is…
  a. When your mood and your schedule are right.
  b. Do you mind if I masturbate a little while I take this test?

4. When you observe a man doing a simple task, you think…
  a. That frickin’ baboon is doing it wrong and ruining everything.
  b. Why would I watch a man do a simple task?

5. When a man doesn’t notice your new hair color it means…
  a. He no longer loves you.
  b. Hair has different colors?

6. After a man explains the undeniable logic of his point of view…
  a. It proves that he just doesn’t get it.
  b. Case closed!

7. Your reaction to this test is…
  a. Bastard!
  b. Ha Ha! You’re dead, Dude.

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The Beerbelly - A Christmas Gift Suggestion

December 21, 2006

The Beerbelly

Stealth drinks vessel

Image of The Beerbelly
Click to enlarge
      blank_pixel The Beerbelly - A Christmas Gift Suggestion
    access_08 The Beerbelly - A Christmas Gift Suggestion


 Think of beer guts and you typically think of boozy blokes exposing their builder's cleavage as they lean over to pick up another pork scratching. But you won't once you see the amazing Beerbelly in action. Because although this ingenious device looks just like a spare tyre when worn under clothing, it's actually a hi-tech stealth beer dispenser.

The Beerbelly Made up of an insulated neoprene sling and a polyurethane bladder connected to a drinking tube, the Beerbelly holds up to 2.3 Litres (over four pints) of amber nectar and it will stay cold for hours with the optional freezer pack. Brilliant, eh? Okay, so you'll look a bit podgy when wearing it, but who gives a XXXX when you can surreptitiously swig your favourite brew wherever you may roam.

The Beerbelly Just think of the possibilities: no more queuing up and forking out on overpriced drinks at festivals, gigs and games. Why, the savings you'll make at just one event will pay for your Beerbelly and still leave you with enough change to buy some nuts. Probably. You can even go jogging, skiing and hiking wearing your Beerbelly (but perhaps it'd be best to fill it with water, not beer).

The Beerbelly Read more

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Those al-Qaeda Taped Messages

December 21, 2006

Stayint in the recent news… (Does old news exist?)

Al-Jazeera just broadcast the 15th recorded message from al-Qaeda’s #2 guy, al-Zawahri. He appeared in front of the same brown background as before, with his same rifle propped against the wall.

Am I the only one who thinks al-Zawahri has his own cubicle at al-Jazeera?

I imagine al-Zawahri coming to work every day with his turban and robe and plastic rifle, a cup of coffee in one hand, a copy of The Jihad Gazette tucked under his arm. The al-Jazeera station manager sees him and calls out, “Hey Showtime, we have a slow news day. Can you do one of those taped message thingees?”

So al-Zawahri takes his brown sheet and plastic rifle into the break room and tells the employees who are eating their figs to be quiet for a minute while he makes his recording.

I assume he prepares for filming by practicing his “crazy eyes” look and shaking the doughnut crumbs out of his beard. I don’t know what kind of vocal exercises he does to warm up, but my money is on “WA-LA-LA-LA-LA-LA-LA!”

Then I suppose he thumbs through The Jihad Gazette looking for current events to talk about so his message seems timely. I doubt he nails it on the first take. It probably goes something like this:

“I am Ayman al-Zawahri. I call on my brothers and sisters in Jihad to attack Donald Trump for giving Miss USA a second chance! God is great! God is great!”

The station manager wanders in for a fig and some java and hears the first take. “That’s too short, Z-man. I need two minutes, and this is sweeps month, so remember to blame Israel.”

There’s no way to know for sure if al-Zawahri is working for al-Jazeera, but if his next video includes a hot female co-host, that’s a clue.

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Miss USA the Party Animal

December 21, 2006

Just when you thought all the news was depressing, The Internet reports that Miss USA Tara Connor was spotted dancing sexily and making out with 18-year old Miss Teen USA in clubs. Miss USA also allegedly tested positive for cocaine.

Donald Trump, who owns the Miss USA pageant, is reportedly considering taking away Miss USA’s crown as soon as he can stand up. He’s been behind his desk since Thursday muttering “hummahummahumma.”

There’s no word on what Trump plans to do with Miss Teen USA but I’m sure he has several ideas. The man is always thinking.

It seems so old-fashioned to penalize Miss USA for having fun. I say it’s time to update the pageant to include competitions for sexy dancing and making out with other beauty queens. If the pageant isn’t willing to keep up with the times, they might as well have a butter churning competition, which by the way would be totally hot in my opinion. Anyway, my point is that times change. The pageant needs to keep up.

I don’t know all of the duties of a reigning Miss USA, but I assume she represents America in the United Nations. I’d love to see her debate Iran in the General Assembly, preferably with frequent breaks to make out with Miss Teen USA.

Miss USA: “And this is why the USA demands inspections of your…hold on… MMM-MMM-MMM … okay, where was I. Hey, do you mind if I do a line off of your turban?”

I suppose Trump’s argument is that Miss USA has not been upholding a proper image. But who would you rather have representing your country – a do-gooder who yammers about world peace, or the hot chick who’s trying to pin Miss Florida against the bar? I say let Miss USA be free, like the great nation she represents. If we start restricting Miss USA’s right to party, the Taliban has won.

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Live Free or Die Hard movie trailer

December 15, 2006

It premieres on July 4th.


and it looks like a classic action movie. 

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Charlie Brown Christmas - Performed by the cast of Scrubs

December 14, 2006


This is very well done! 

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Holiday shopping

December 14, 2006

I've taken Friday and Monday off. I'm going to do some final christmas shopping.

At about this time every year I have two lists that I carry everywhere. One is my Christmas shopping list. The other is the list of people I need to kill because they finished all of their shopping in October.

Regular readers of this blog will not be surprised to learn that I am a bad shopper. I blame this defect on being so filled with testosterone that I can shoot it from my wrists like Spiderman. I have all the telltale signs of testosterone overdose:

- Metrosexual (according to some) 

- Early hair loss

- Easily aroused by looking at dried apricots

- Always carry a list of people to kill

But the biggest problem with all of this testosterone sloshing around in me is that shopping is my kryptonite. I walk into a store and the blood drains out of my torso and fills my ankles. After three minutes in Kolding Storcenter (mall) I start praying for a stack of decorative candles to fall on me and end my misery. Sometimes I’ll just curl up under a pile of throw rugs and start screaming for Lassie to get help.

Shopping is extra difficult for me because I am cursed with a high degree of practicality. For example, I won’t buy anything for the family unless I have a good idea where it will be kept in the house. Our home is already full. I won’t buy a new toaster if the only place I can imagine it being stored is on top of the television.

It is also understood that I should not buy any items for the family that require judgment about style, taste or fashion. And these days that’s everything from clothes to jewelry to iPods. We already have three computers and a cupboard full of brown eco/bio rice; there isn’t much left that I am qualified to purchase.

Merry Christmas Shopping! 

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