Three Mile Island Club

For a fun road trip I’m going to take the family to see Three Mile Island. That place really intrigues me, mainly because I didn’t know it existed until I found it by accident while looking for reruns of Temptation Island on the Google. After doing an extensive 15 second research project on the place, I’ve determined that Three Mile Island has gotten a bad rap over the years and now I must proclaim my disgust at the world through the internet like every good Christian should do. Sure, it suffered a meltdown in 1979 and forever tarnished the image of nuclear power in our brains. I mean, who cares about Chernobyl, this happened on our soil people. It’s time we polish this disaster up a bit to make it look like we wanted it to happen, for our children, and our children’s children’s extra ears.

First of all, the meltdown at Three Mile Island created new jobs, negative? I don’t think so, unless you’re a communist and want everyone to work together in harmony and all that bullshit. Before the meltdown there wasn’t need for a PR guy, or “Flack” as they like to say in the “biz”. And by “biz” I mean that nuclear disasters are America’s problem, so every other country out there can mind their own "biz"-ness. After the disaster there were more cameras on the island then in Paris Hilton’s bedroom and the need to lie to reporters about the danger was created. Supply and demand is a beautiful thing.













Here we see a different kind of flack, not relevant but still pretty cool

Not only that, it brought to our attention that we might want to include nuclear safety technicians and inspectors with the whole nuclear power thing. As annoying as these kinds of people are, they are a necessity in today’s society if you want to be safe and more importantly, avoid lawsuits. I can’t tell you how many times I hear from these human rights panty-wastes saying “Dog, you can’t slap convicts around”, “Dog, verbal abuse towards your wife is just as damaging as physical abuse”, “Dog, stop hitting my knees with a crowbar” and on and on, it never stops really. I have a good way of dealing with it though, I don’t listen to them. I shut them out like Robin Williams shuts out common sense when choosing scripts.

I shouldn’t make fun of the inspectors though, without them we’d have no Homer Simpson. I don’t know if cartoons will make it in this age of Itoilets and Intendos but I’ll be rooting for them. I just keep thinking of what happened to the Smurfs after they aired that “Papa Smurf Roots out the Capitalist Scum” episode, total nosedive. Sad really.












"Let the ruling class and Gargamel tremble at our Smurf-tastic uprising"

Then you’re gonna have your liberal chicken littles saying that Three Mile Island caused health problems in the area and I don’t want to die boo hoo hoo. Well guess what? Andy Kadak, a professor at MIT (Men Investigating Trouble) sees things a little differently. He says the radiation distributed during the TMI incident was:

“less than what was emitted by nuclear weapons testing back in the '50s or '60s”.

Suck on that plutonium rod you hippie assholes! The radiation that we sucked in during a complete meltdown was less than what the government was purposely exposing us to in the first place and the I think the government knows a little something about how much radiation we’re supposed to absorb so stop with your whining right now or I’ll turn this blog around and go home I swear to Christ.

Wait a minute, MIT, TMI…coincidence? I hardly think so. They were meant to be, you can’t stand in the way of whoever God put in charge of causing goo to come out of those power plant towers. Also, think of the entertainment industry. With nuclear power coming back into play, Michael Bay has a whole new genre to ruin. Now, instead of making shitty movies about welders becoming astronauts in three hours he can do one about skateboarders becoming nuclear safety technicians who must save the east coast from destruction all by walking in front of a sunset slow motion. Oooooh I get goosebumps just thinking about it, nuclear goosebumps.









"5 minutes to core meltdown? Ok that's enough time to work on this Ollie right dude?"





And if that’s not enough to whet yer glowing whistle, having the chance of being exposed to radiation increases the chance of nearby residents gaining super powers somehow. I might move to Pennsylvania just in case I can gain the ability to see through denim. Nuclear powered weapons are also the wave of the future, every country’s got them, they just don’t want everyone knowing about it.

It’s like when you were a kid and your mom bought you the Mossman Masters of the Universe toy but your didn’t want your friends knowing about it because you know those idiots would ruin it so you played with him in secret in the backyard where only you could enjoy him and then you went to get something from the barn and came back and you couldn’t find him because he was green, so green and it wasn’t his fault that he was the same color as the grass and you looked and looked but still couldn’t find him and it got dark and he was gone and now you scream his name out in the night….






Farewell furry soldier









Yeah so anyway chew on that for a while before you jump into the “I hate nuclear technology” line at the local Freedom Haters meeting. Peace out yo.

Hello to Nova Scotia

Unless you were born without ears, eyes and a nose, then you’ll know that I’m heading to Halifax, Nova Scotia in a few weeks to bathe in the love and jealousy of my many, many fans. I say “nose” because each on of the tickets to my show has been personally dipped into my own cologne “La Moufette de la Nuit” for your nasal pleasure. And if you were born without ears, eyes or a nose maybe I should be dishing out $39 to come see you! 100 if I wanted to meet you. Not sure how that would work though without being able to see, hear or smell me. Well I could just shake you a little or something I supposes. I’ll brainstorm on it.

I’m writing this now because I want to do one of those “before and after” things to show how much I’ve changed after I’ve experienced a strange, exotic location from my hotel balcony. I really can’t wait, I’ve been telling all the kids how when it’s summer here it’s winter there, or maybe it’s always winter in Nova Scotia. Hmmmm should look that up I guess. Anyway, they’re really stoked about seeing the Eskimos and reindeer and all that touristy shit. For me though, I really want to absorb the Halifax experience so I’ve been putting together an Iditarod so I can be sure to cram as much culture and casual sex as possible.





A typical summer day in Halifax





I’ve been hearing from a lot of friends and relatives about Halifax and Nova Scotia in general and they’ve been telling me all kids of things to see. Normally I wouldn’t bother taking their advice on deciding what shampoo to use but I’ve never been to a harsh climate like this before. Lives may be at stake so I should listen for once I guess.

First of all, I love eating when I’m on vacation. Seriously, I’m like a stoned Rosie O’Donnell. Poor Rosie, I was kind of bummed that she didn’t get the Price Is Right gig but I can understand their concerns over her eating the Plinko chips during the interview. So anyway, when in Halifax I want the best food money can buy. Someone told me about this place called Pete’s Frootique. Now, normally I wouldn’t go near a place with the word “Frootique” in the title with a ten foot pole but I know how backwards Canadians are with their tolerance towards fruits and their happy go lucky ways so I’m determined to swallow my hate and press on.

Mainly because I hear that not only does Pete’s have the cheapest food in town, they also have a specialty called “The Halifax Explosion Buger”. Yummm because nothing makes me want to chomp down on grilled beef more than visualizing the charred remains of over 2,000 people.













It’s the shards of glass and TNT that give it that extra kick

I think I’ll take in some basketball as well while I’m here. Not just any basketball, chick basketball. I hear there’s also a team called The Halifax Explosion. Man those guys really like explosions. I’ve read that there was some controversy about naming the team that and I can’t even begin to tell you how stupid that is. If they can name a burger after it, why not an entire basketball team? I for one am totally jazzed about watching their big game against the Fighting Diarrhea from Walkerton Ontario.

After wiping out Canada’s cattle population at Pete’s and watching girls get all sweaty I’m told I should check out Citadel Hill. From looking at the pictures of it I’m not sure what they could possibly guard against unless it’s Canada’s military strategy to let the enemy take the entire city below while you roll cannonballs at them from a grassy mound. And why so much Scottish merchandise on the web site? I haven’t seen so many people in kilts since people got all worked up over Braveheart. Hell-ooooo Earth to ocean people Scotland is in the southern hemisphere, get your own identity, honestly. Note to self: Send letter to G.W. telling him how easy this place is to take.









Good idea there Haggis, maybe you can drive Osama crazy first






Wearing a kilt is one of those things I’ve promised myself I’d never do, like go bungee jumping or watch “My Super Ex-Girlfriend”.

I also can’t wait to see the tall ships. I’m guessing most ships are tall so I don’t know why they call them that. It’s like instead of saying “I’m going to the movies” you say “I’m going to the rectangular picture show”. Am I right or what? I’m really hoping to see the one that they used in the gone but not forgotten masterpiece Pirate Master (17 signatures and counting!). I want to do a fitting tribute to Joe-Don and Jupiter and Azmyth and anyone else with a retarded name.

I’m not sure what else there is to do in Halifax, as long as the toilets flush clock-wise and the beer ain’t warm I’ll be happy. I hope the good folks at the Comfort Inn Bedford don’t mind that I require a sound-proof room and 24 kitchen service.

A Prank A Day

As I've mentioned before on this internet diary, I love pranks. Pranks are part of everyday life, like going to the bathroom and sleeping around. There are some people out there who hate pranks, and they make doing the pranking a lot more fun. I don't know how many times in high school some queer-bait nerd used to complain "I'm allergic to peanuts, stop shoving them down my throat" and we would laugh and laugh.

It's hard to get away with a good prank in this day and age because we are such a presitgious society, everybody wants to sue everyone else just for shits and giggles. Well, a story from the mosted authentic and reliable face in news, FOX News, hit me with a story so hard I thought it had broken my nose. Turns out I had broken my nose because Beth caught me giving my patented "meltdown stare" at some fine little piece of tail serving us orange juice at the IHOP while I read the paper. Note to self: get darker sunglasses, these Blue Blockers just don't cut it anymore. Sure they had a cool rap song to go with their ad but after 15 years you just gotta change teams. My meltdown stare is the one where I lean forward and raise one eyebrow, nobody can resist it, male, female or animal. I'm still working on eliminating that last one.

Anyway, the story I'm talking about comes from Olympia, Washington. A dentist "temporarily implanted fake boar tusks in his assistant's mouth as a practical joke and got sued for it". Why would she sue because she had boar's teeth in her mouth. Hell I'd get that dude to put boar's teeth into my mouth permanently. Those or maybe those teeth that Hugh Grant wears in every movie he's in, they're pretty scary. Think of it though, some ice head comes running at you with his girlfriend's dismembered arm as weapon and you shine him a set of boar's teeth and he'd shit his pants right there on the spot, guaranteed.






Proof that he's dabbling with nuclear technology







I know this because I went to a red carpet showing of Bram Stoker's Dracula and one of the kids who walks around with a flashlight thought he'd be cute and smiled at me with a set of vampire teeth when I wasn't ready for it and well I had about three dried grams of magic mushrooms spiraling its way through my body and I lost all of my faculties into my giant cardboard box of nachos. I only went to that movie to see Sharon and Lois but they weren't nowhere to be found. Anyway, it'd work, trust me.

So what happens is this dentist removes the boars teeth but not before snapping a few polaroids and sending them around to everyone at the office. When this broad finds out about it she freaks and sues the guy for 250 big ones. I tell ya, women in the workplace, when are we going to learn America? This dentist pays her out of his own pocket then sues his own insurance company for not considering it a regular procedure.

The judge, high on gas fumes, determined that Dentist Woo's "practical joke was an integral part of the assistant's dental surgery and conceivably should trigger the professional liability coverage of his policy". And boom, he gets 750 big ones as a result. Are your wheels turning yet? Mine aren't but I'm sure there's a scam in there somewhere.

See, I used to pull pranks on people all the time. Not just on Beth but on the people I used to catch as well. Most of them are passed out, we usually catch them, wake them up and then re-release them just so we can chase them around town to make the show interesting. So when you realize that you've caught your perp and he's not going anywhere for about 12 hours you usually can have some fun with them. Here's some of my favorites.





He was instantly popular in prison



















He was drunk so when he woke up he was none the wiser





I should've won an award for that one



So you see, pranks are ingrained into our society, it's what makes us free. Now, if any of you junkies out there feel I embarrassed you in front of your jacked up friends who were taking apart stolen car radios at the time of these pranks and you want to sue me, please do. I'd love to see you back in court you mothas. Just be sure to watch your step because I may have tied your shoelaces together...Burn!

One Giant Swig For Mankind

A lot of people have been talking about this Simpson's movie that's out. I for one am happy to see that Nick and Jessica finally made the leap to the big screen. I sure hope those kooky kids can make things work. Chicken of the sea, man that had me howling for ages. Someone told me to celebrate this movie you could go on the interweb and make an "avatar" to show your support. I made one up for me and I think it's a pretty accurate representation except for the jaundice-like skin and the four fingers. I don't think these kinds of gimmicks will really work but whatever floats their boats. I'm all for supporting young couples. I was in a fresh, young relationship once too, when I was in preschool. Everything after that is just old hat to be honest.







They wouldn't let me do an anatomically correct one

Now that I've got that behind me I wanna talk about the status of this country's astronauts. NASA, the company that brought you the 1969 moon landing and nothing else, recently released a report stating that:

"On at least two occasions, astronauts were allowed to fly after flight surgeons warned they were so drunk they posed a flight safety risk"

First of all, flight surgeons? Why am I paying my hard earned evaded tax dollars to have doctors in space? Are astronauts that accident prone or are we just sending up a bunch Lewie Andersons who are one bag of freeze dried pot roast away from having blood shoot from their ears? How do they hold their scapels in zero G?

Actually, I've just had a really good idea, imagine ER in space. It'd have all the drama of ER in Chicago plus the added danger of having your body implode from all the space pressure. The tag-line for the show could be "In Space, Nobody Can Hear You Prescribe OxyContin for Yourself".






"Sorry Zyblorg, I'm afraid we're going to have to remove that tentacle"









It doesn't stop there, NASA claims that an astronaut was so drunk at one point he was refused entry onto his spaceship and that

"when launch was postponed, that drunk astronaut got in a NASA T-38 jet and flew off from Kennedy Space Center, despite protests by another astronaut from that crew who alerted management"

I'm not sure what a NASA T-38 jet is but since it has the word "jet" in it I'm assuming it's powered by a "jet engine" meaning it probably goes pretty fast. So the fact that it was powered by a loaded astronaut is not only amazing, it's freaking awesome! Way to stick it to the man Major Tom. That right there shows how committed our astronauts are to getting the job done. I can't go into space? Fuck you then I'll just hop into this jet and fly straight towards the sun until I run out of fuel or break up in Earth's atmosphere, take that! I bet the other astronaut who was protesting was just pissed because he didn't take him with him.







"Just set her down in the captain's chair Phil, she's good to go"








NASA's determination to shoot their reputation to Jupiter's moons continues with yet another report of a stellar astronuat:

"In another incident, a NASA astronaut reportedly launched to the space station from Russia while under the influence"

Now, to be fair, he was launching from Russia. I hear those guys have wet bars set up all over the Milky Way. Our boys shouldn't be taking flak for what was probably second hand vodka ingestion from those Ruskies.

NASA says that astornauts are quarantined for a week before they take off for any space mission but that alcohol is "freely available". I see where NASA is coming from now. One time I went to Aruba and got "quarantined" at a tequila bar for seventeen hours and when I came out I needed to get a needle in the ass.















"Has anyone seen a really tall space ship around here?...Man I just spewed in my helmet"

Apparently NASA has a strict 12 hour "bottle to the throttle" rule. I have the same rule at home, if anyone touches my bottles, someone's gettin' throttled. It's good to see that NASA has a sign in the bathroom warning anyone against drinking before they commandeer a multi million dollar ship into outer space. It's like having the exit doors on a prison for child rapists operate on the honor system.

This NASA panel was created after former astronaut and current constipation spoksewoman Lisa Nowak drove something like a million miles to attack a woman who was space-courting a fellow astronaut. I tell ya, if you think a soap opera show based in NASA couldn't work you're as stupid as Buzz Aldrin. I think I'd call it Space Soap: The Final Brasier. Until NASA gets their act together I'm gonna apply to be an astronaut, I figure it'll be just like spring break at Orlando only the food will be better.

The Entertainment Stain! Vol.4

Welcome to another erotic contribution to society! Yessir it’s the Entertainment Stain! The Entertainment News column that not only handles the truth, it manhandles it baby. It makes TMZ.com look like just another trashy gossip web site. So what are we waiting for? I’ll tell you, for me to come up with some ideas! Ok, ready? Let’s go!

“So You Think You Can Dance” judge / professional banshee Mary Murphy, recently received a Lifetime Achievement Award at the Heritage Dance Classic. The Heritage Dance Classic is where people dress up like Pilgrims and dance around a turkey while spitting on Native Americans, its fun for the whole family! The Entertainment Stain! attempted to get a statement from Murphy regarding her award but unfortunately our recording equipment wasn’t set on the “bat” frequency. In related news, Mary will be starring in a new reality series called “Whale Whaddya Know?” Where she’s forced to be roomies with a beluga whale. It’s like the original Odd Couple only with lots of plankton. Sure to be a hit!













Mary during an uncharacteristically calm moment

TV Shocker!!!!! Pirate Master, the CBS sail-away hit has been cancelled! I’ve set up an online petition at our sister-site http://www.showmeyourchestofzanzibar.com So we can get this thing back on the air. C’mon people, you know we can do it! Remember when all of those workers who protested for minimum wage and safe working conditions back when factories made nothing but textiles? Well Pirate Master is our minimum wage.


Unfriendly Skies? John Travolta, who recently claimed the Scientology title of having “audited” more than 6,000 children, has sued the owners of the Florida airport where he's looking to land his jumbo jet, claiming that they falsified their 2006 records to show that the landing field could not accommodate large planes. They did this because they did not want their airfield becoming bumpy from the hoards of corpses Travolta plans to bury there in the coming years. Plus, airline passengers have complained that Travolta’s Boeing 707 smells like cabbage and instead of exit signs in the cabin were replaced with signs reading “Have You Lived Before This?”















"Welcome to Travolta Air, today's movie will be Battlefield Earth, extra air sickness bags have been provided"

Britney Spears meltdown bla bla Ok! Magazine bla bla bla…lets just start the countdown until we find her rigid, blue corpse chained to a radiator outside of Vegas with a syringe hanging limply out of her neck shall we?

The Entertainment Stain! is brought to you by Sheri’s Cabaret in downtown Las Vegas. Friends of The Entertainment Stain! stay in the luxurious hostel of their choosing. Remember, when visiting Sheri’s Cabaret, remember the rules: no touching, have at least $30 per hour on you if you’re sitting right at the stage and keep your spit aimed at the spittoons, we can’t stress this enough.

Beyonce Accident Scare! Heavy Metal superstar Beyonce had a close call the other night when she fell down a flight of stairs during her performance of “Ring the Alarm”. After wiping her brow with a million dollar bill she politely asked concert goers to “please not post this on the internet”. Don’t worry Beyonce, we got yer back here at the Entertainment Stain! Don’t worry about leaking any sex videos either, I know they’d never make it to the internet.

Tom Cruise Sexy Extortion Scheme! David Hans Schmidt has been arrested by the FBI on Tuesday for his role in trying to blackmail Tom Cruise by trying to sell him photos from his own wedding. The FBI sure has their shit together don’t they? Never mind the fact that we’ll probably all be dead in 10 years from a terrorist attack, the FBI knows where the real traitors are: people making a quick buck from looney-tune actors. To be fair, the photos were pretty damaging, they depicted Cruise holding little Suri into the air and then barbequing her for the wedding feast.

That’s a wrap! Until next time, Keep on rockin’ in what they tell us is the free world!

Interview With the Dogpire

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Know When to Run

We’re getting a new secretary for the office. I’ve officially put Beth on secretarial probation because it turns out she’s been spending most of her time at the computer gambling in some online casino and buying cartons of blush by the pallet. I’m not even sure how those interweb casinos work but I know it can’t be wholesome. The last time I did anything close to that was playing “Casino Kid” on my Nintendo and even then I knew it was stupid. I mean, how do they enforce casino laws through the computer? Does some cartoon pit boss send you angry computer letters? Do they break your connection instead of your fingers? And how are you supposed to cheat? I mean, that’s what makes going to a casino fun.















"Excuse me but I've gotta run to the bank and get some groceries for a bit, you guys are cool with that right?"

I can still remember my childhood trips to Vegas. My dad would sit at the blackjack table drinking himself tolerable with a hidden camera in his hair while I sat in a bathroom stall sending him electronic messages in the form of tiny electric shocks, telling him which cards had been counted. Of course it all went downhill when the woman sitting next to dad said “Wow, you’re really doing well, sugar ”. And he replied “Yeah well, you would be too if you knew what I knew, now why don’t you be a doll and get daddy a scotch?” while winking suggestively. Alcohol made him tell the truth, or at least tell the truth that he was a compulsive liar and a cheat. If only we had “Gambleversity” back then, we would’ve been prepared. Regarding cheating at blackjack, Gambleversity says the following:

"Cheating is certainly not recommended, not legal and in no way endorsed by Gambleversity. But, for the sake of education, this course will deal with ways for a player to cheat at blackjack."







"Welcome to Gambleversity, I'm Dean Machine"








Bravo, Gambleversity, you dodged a bullet there! Way to cover yourself. I’m thinking of enrolling my kids into Gambleversity, for many reasons, too many to list here. But some of the reasons I would like to have my kids attend Gambleversity is because preying on people’s vices is a good way to make a quick buck and I just like saying the word Gambleversity. Gambleversity. Gambleversi-tay.

Gambleversity even publishes scholarly articles on the art of gambling. Well, they only have one article so far but that’s a start! Take it easy on them, they’ve only been a university for three years and it takes time to be accepted into the academic community. Just ask the “New Jersey Turnpike College for Can Collectors and Graffiti Artists” they’ve been fighting the fight for far too long if you ask me.







School pride runs deep at Gambleversity









The article Gambleversity has published is by worldwide renown professor and dog walker Colette Roulings. Professor Rouling’s insights into the world of gambling are intriguing and stimulate further discussion. For instance, Roulings suggests playing Roulette instead of Blackjack because

“Blackjack has rules to follow and well, rules suck.” Tru dat! I’m sure as a professor you get forced to follow all kinds of stupid rules that “the man” slaps down on you. Rules like “no plagiarizing” “no sexually harassing students”, “no peeing in the drinking fountain” and so on. Stick it to ‘em Rouling!

Roulette Colette isn’t done there, she has more wind in her pipe, lets listen shall we?

“If you get too drunk and stop following the rules, some geezer in seat 2 will start blaming your bad plays for all his loses”.

Again with those rules, how dare you random Casino? Personally, absolutely hate it when I go to a casino with my girlfriends (holla), get shit-faced drunk, start rolling a set of dice at the Texas Hold ‘Em Table and have to listen to some “geezer” bitch about me not following the “rules” that are “handed down” by the “American Gaming Association”. You gonna live your whole life like a slave, or are ya gonna join me and whats-her-name and show those fat cats in Vegas who really runs the town? I thought so.





An excited student enrolled in the combined "Triple 7's & Craps" Degree








But wait, Colette has more things in her brain:


“Ok, now here's how to make $20 or $40 last you All Night. Bet the inside and bet only the minimum every time…I've walked away $100 up at a 50 cents table, but usually I walk after a few hours, $20 down, drunk and happy. On to the next Casino!”

$20 dollars down and drunk? Where do I sign up for this university? Tell me Col, does “All Night” mean “until I have no money and have to give hand jobs on the strip for taxi fare home?” Just wondering kk tks.

There are so many wonderful attributes to this university that I could spend many more seconds talking about them. I guess the story on why we are taking Beth off the desk and putting her on jockstrap cleaning duty will have to wait for another day. So, until next time, keep a stiff upper lip and do as Colette does, gamble your savings into the shitter!

Ice Ice Trucker Baby

Man things can't get any better. The History Channel, the folks who bring you minute by minute updates on the status of Hitler's cutlery and Canada's heroic involvement in capturing said cutlery, has struck paydirt. It' called "Ice Road Truckers" and it "reveals the virtually unknown occupation of ice road trucking, considered to be one of the world's most dangerous jobs". Welcome to the rest of your life. Yes you did read those slanty shaped letters right, this show depicts the unknown and hardly cared about occupation of ice road trucking. The truckers deliver valuable supplies to diamond mines in the Canadian Northwest over roads that are really frozen lakes.


















Looks like this ice trucker was both too fast AND too furious

Canada has diamond mines?!? WTF!? (I'm not sure what WTF stands for btw..or btw) Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, Canada has diamond mines?!? Why haven't we gotten our fingers in that pot? Are we going soft or something? Man we need to get all up in that shiznit and get us some diamonds to make sure DeBeers doesn't go bankrupt. Remember the Boer War? Well I do, it was when Britain gave a bunch of traitors some shitty, unusable land in Africa until they found out there were diamonds in them there hills and then they took it back by force, creating the first recorded use of the concentration camp. Over 20,000 women and children were starved to death with the help of Canadian officials! This is comedy gold!











"Gerald, come here and pull my finger"

My point is, Canada had their turn to get diamonds in the early 1900s and screwed it up so now it's our turn bitches. That's right, I said it, we need to invade the Canadian north and take those diamonds. If my calculations are correct, and they usually are, it should be a hilarious and fun filled adventure. Haven't you ever seen Canadian Bacon? Ok bad example but I can fill you in anyway. We'll hire a morbidly obese man and a midget woman to infiltrate the top secret Canadian base made of popsicle sticks located somewhere north of Ontario. Once there it'll be easy pickins because you know how polite those Canadians are, they probably have those diamond mines set up on the honor system.




A typical Canadian diamond mine




If my ingenius plan fails we can always hijack one of those ice trucker idiots. Have you seen the one they call "The Polar Bear"? He looks like he's one fudgsicle away from a massive heart attack so he should be a pushover. Once we have control of the magic ice diamond trucks, we'll drive them to Mexico where they'll thaw out like a giant turkey worth 30 million dollars.

I should do it quick thought because for some reason the ice is getting thinner out there. Everyone knows I don't believe in global warming unless global warming is something from the Bible that I missed. The more sensible explanation is that Canada is too soft on gays and that has pissed God off and to strike fear in the hearts of all Canadians he slightly affected an industry that until now four people knew existed. God, you gotta admire his plans. I should have this plan all in place unless I die or get distracted by the little light on the deep freeze again.







"Put it in Low, Leland"

Summer Cramp

I got a call the other day from a friend of mine telling me he’s taking his wife and kids to California to do a tour of wine country and he asked if we wanted to come. I said ‘no’ as politely as I could which involved me calling him a ‘penis brain’. I’m sorry but I cannot understand why someone would go to California just to see wineries. I mean sure, I like to get loaded just like the next guy, but to devote an entire trip to the thing that gets you there? No thanks.

I’m not fussy a drinker anyway and if I’m really desperate I’ll take the family on a tour of the Aqua Velva factory downtown. Yes, they have their own factory. It smells nice. Smells like grandpa. To drive this point home even further for those of you still not 100% sure on where I stand with this issue and to ensure I can squeeze in another stupid joke, it’s like saying “I really like Nike shoes, I think I’ll hop on a plane to Taiwan and punch the first person I see in the face”. It makes sense people, deal with it.






mis prostitutas adoran la manera que huelo










I didn’t let my rant on the phone with my good friend what’s-his-name to get me down though. In fact, I’m pretty stoked. I’m as happy as Michael Jackson at a Harry Potter reading. This is because I found out today that many of my offspring are headed to camp for a few weeks. After I stopped doing “The Bird” on the kitchen table (FYI: invented by Pee Wee Herman after he watched Full Metal Jacket) I decided to help my kids get ready.

It’s good to know that there are still kids nowadays that want to do wholesome activities and that those activities take them away from my everyday life. You gotta agree with me though, kids today don’t want to get in touch with wilderness. All they wanna do is go Ipoding or play on their Nintendos. To make things worse, there are even some kids who still just wanna zoom zoom zoom and a boom boom, if you know what I mean. And If you do know please call me and let me know because I could never figure that song out. I hear that the lead singer from Wreckx-N-Effect is working at Pottery Barn just down the road from here so maybe I’ll ask him the next time I feel like paying $45 for a candle.











Unemployment-N-Effect

As I was helping my kids pack, I thought I would fill them in on my experiences from camping, in between giggling fits that is. I just couldn’t help it, it’s like finding out that there really is a Santa Claus and that he doesn’t really do disgusting things to your mother when you walk in on her on Christmas Eve…it’s that kind of giddiness. So, here are the best things that I remember from going to camp in Colorado in whatever time period that may have been. They may not necessarily be the best things but they are most definitely things.

1. Dog Fight Mondays

Dog fights aren’t just for NFL quarterbacks, anyone can do it! And at summer camps in the 1960s, it wasn’t something you signed up for, it was mandatory and taken very, very seriously. Each child was assigned a dog as they entered the camp. The dog they received depended on how well each child performed on a “general knowledge” quiz that they had been given weeks before entering. The dog I received was an Irosh Wolfhoud with mange.How was I supposed to know Mickey Mantle played baseball? Talk about obscure questions. So every Monday night you’d pit your dog against another, the winner was given ten S’mores and a metal marshmallow rod. The loser was sent to the meal hall to scrape vomit up from under all of the bench seats. Needless to say my wolfhound was swallowed whole by a Bullmastiff and I spent the rest of the summer kneeling in regurgitated scrambled eggs.


















I probably should have spent more time working on his fighting technique

2. Phonebook Relay

This game was a real hoot. It wasn’t really a relay but it was still a lot of fun. Kids would line up and put a phone book in front of your face and then punch the book as hard as they can. You see, if you punch someone through a phone book it hurts like a bastard but it doesn’t leave any marks which makes it impossible to prove. One of the many miracles of science, kids. Then, when everyone in your cabin had a turn, you were given noogies and nipple twists until you were numb. This wasn’t a real popular game with the rest of the camp, just the guys in my cabin who hated me because I had uncontrollable flatulence.

3. Campfire sing-alongs

Not many people know this but American summer camps is where Simon Cowell stole the idea for American Idol or Shepard's Pie Idol or whatever it's called over there in la-la land across the ocean. In my day, campfire sing-alongs weren't the friendly, laid back events that you see on Yogi Bear and Friday the 13th movies. They were hard core, grueling singing sessions that lasted from 9:00pm until noon the next day. Kids were tied to each other and made to dance in unision as they sang "Michael Row Your Boat Ashore" until it they reached perfect pitch. If anybody went out of key they were tagged in the sac with the camp counselor's brass knuckles. Winners were allowed to keep their manhood while losers were given a 5 inch tent spike for breakfast the next day.














"Row Row Row Your Boat...SING you little shits! Sing or I'll throw you into the fucking lake!"

4. Deliver-dance

You know the Irish cult phenomenon Riverdance, where homosexuals dress like nymphs and have orgies in front of little kids? Well, picture having to do all of that but instead of nymphs everyone has to dress like Burt Reynolds and instead of kicking in unision everybody "squeals like a pig" in unison.

Ahh summer camp, that awkward stage in life when you are forced to live with equally screwed up kids who don't want to be there, throw mother nature's unmerciful rage into the mix with a dash of abusive camp leaders and you've got yourself a perfect summer right there. I only hope that my kids will take the same thing from camp that I did, my counselor's wallet.

Bored Game Bonanza

When it rains, I get depressed. I mean really depressed. Remember Kathy Bates in Misery? I make her look like Shirley Temple. Add a nagging wife, a hoard of kids who swarm around you like hornets high on pixie sticks and you’ve got the perfect storm. And by that I mean a storm of me rolling my kids into a carpet bag and throwing them in a river. To keep everyone sane and happy and still breathing, it’s important that a family learn to play together on a rainy day. Board games are an obvious choice. Unfortunately I don’t think I’ve bought or played a board game since the early ‘80s when I went searching for that murderer Colonel Mustard. Those were my heavy mescaline days so you can forgive me gentle reader for going door to door with my Colonel Mustard playing card asking people if they’d seen or had relations with him. You can also forgive me for getting a search warrant and tearing apart the Grey Poupon factory.

Back to reality, this weekend I decided to clear out the closet and spend some time with my family playing board games. First I had to find the closet and I am happy to say that after I shifted the ’87 Firebird transmission out of the way the games closet was as clear as Crisco to me. I’m not happy to say that after moving the transmission I discovered why we haven’t seen our cat, Chairman Meow, for three weeks.







Joi wooi Chairman Meow, joi wooi




Some of these board games I can’t even remember buying at all. I think I must have refused to play them by the looks of them. Here’s a rundown of the five best ones that I could find.

1. Disney DVD Bingo








This game combines the tediousness and boredom of regular bingo and projects it in high def from your television sets. To make an appropriate Bingo atmosphere, I smoked eight cigarettes at once, put Beth in a fat suit and told seven of my twelve kids to cry and scream and complain that they didn’t want to be there. Actually I didn’t have to ask them to do that at all. I’m convinced that Disney DVD Bingo is proof that Walt Disney not only loved kids, he also was 100% devoted to the Nazi Party because only someone who enjoys torture would sell this to unsuspecting families.


2. The Andy Griffith Show – Mayberry Mania Board Game














This game’s claim to fame is that has been “designed by the fans, for the fans!.” No offence or anything but I can’t imagine fans of The Andy Griffith Show being able to design a paper airplane properly let alone a complicated board game such as this. Your quest is to become a deputy sheriff and force Barney Fife into suicide. All your favorite characters are here, like sexual predator Floyd the barber and the hilarious drunkard Otis, you get to guess how long it will take for his liver to finally implode! Winners not only get to rule Mayberry with an iron fist, they get to have Aunt Bee as their personal chef and sex slave.


3. Trump The Game










Move over Monopoly, there’s a new playa in town. In case you’re an attention whore and tried out for The Apprentice but didn’t make it, you can relive your humiliation and lack of morals all over again, it’s a miracle! Bid against your opponents, employ cut throat methods, purchase big businesses and run the top managers out, just like The Donald does in real life. It’ll be like you’re actually living his life. Then, when you pack the game up you can look at the milk crates you have for chairs and your one Budweiser mirror and hurtle yourself back to your soul-crushing reality!

4. Pac-Man The Board Game











If you said to me, “Dog, how does one of the most popular arcade games of all time translate to the board game genre?’ I’d say, fucking terribly! Not only are you guaranteed to lose all of the power pills within the first five minutes of this mess, it’s nearly impossible to figure out who is controlling who and what in the name of sweet Hawaiian Punch you’re supposed to do or advance to the next stage or make the ghosts move faster to make it more complicated. We actually tweaked this game a bit to make a lot more fun, we set it on fire and roasted marshmallows over it.

5. The Dominoes Pizza Delivery Game


















The headings on this game read as follows: “Fun! Exciting! Realistic! Challenging! Safety First”. As soon as you see “Safety First” you just know this game is going to be a rancid pile of parrot shit to play. This game includes the fast paced, thrill a minute excitement of parallel parking in front of a sorority house where a bunch of rich drunk assholes will belittle you as you give them their food. Play smart, play safe, and you could be bumped up from the Toyota Trecel to the Toyota Echo, a car that technically doesn’t exist anymore! This game is as fun as Dominoes Pizza tastes. Which means it’s as fun as being castrated by a billy goat.

Fun fun fun! If the sun doesn’t come out soon I’ll be wearing the skins of my family for a raincoat.

The Entertainment Stain! Vol. 3

Welcome to another snooty-licious edition of the Entertainment Stain! The celebrity gossip column that’s as accurate as an American’s knowledge of world history! Let’s not mince, crush or sautee any more words and just let the news speak for itself ok? OK? Ok then.

Sooooo, like, the website TMZ states that in the latest issue of GQ, Matt Damon talks about how, when they were younger, he and Ben Affleck wanted to buy the exact same car. But each tried to talk the other out of it, "Because we knew it would just be so gay to get the same car." TMZ issued this response to Damon’s statement:

“TMZ had qualms with the usage of the word "gay" -- since it's not exactly politically correct to use the word "gay" to mean "bad" or "negative."

Yes, shame on you Matt Damon and thank you TMZ for upholding the morals and standards that only a web site that shows pictures of celebrity piss stains can possess.







"How come every time you come around my bladder bladder lets go?"








Moving on:

Huh?!?&^ The BBC reports that Germany has banned the makers of Tom Cruise's new movie from filming at military sites in the country because the actor is a Scientologist. In other reports, John Travolta has had his latest movie shut down in the Czech Republic because he's a fucking idiot!

Cruise will play Colonel Claus von Stauffenberg in Valkyrie, leader of the 1944 plot to assassinate Adolf Hitler using a bomb hidden in a briefcase, scheduled for release next year. How ironic! If Cruise were a Nazi and not a Scientologist, he’d probably be allowed to shoot in those precious locations! Too bad Scientology is basically Nazism with sex appeal! Don’t give up Tommy, send a message to Katie through the toaster that you need her support, that’s if you haven’t already performed the Scientology ceremony of sewing your wife to your back.













"Hmmm, think we should make them pay to join? Nahhh, that'd be really fucked up"

Next up:

An eBay seller is auctioning off a seven foot cardboard cutout of Mel Gibson. The seller states that the cutout was “used in a tv show”. That’s funny, we thought it was used to scare Jews from traveling to Mago Island off of Fiji, which he bought in 2004. Yes, Mel Gibson owns an island. Bidding starts at $20 so take your hand out of your pants and get ready to click on “Buy it Now!”


















"You do know that the entire cardboard cutout and bristol board industry is controlled by the Jews don't you?"

Britney Spears is in the process of shooting another video. It’ll be a dramatic departure style wise from her earlier videos because she’s matured, seen more of the world, and looks like she’s just enrolled in the Anna Nicole Smith School of Career Suicide for Inbreeders.








"I just went potty *giggle*"








In sports news, Chile’s foreign minister says he will file a formal complaint to Ottawa over what he called “unjustified aggression” by Toronto police when they scuffled with Chilean footballers at a FIFA Under-20 World Cup match,
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA…Ahhhhh shit you slay me Chile, you really do. Hey, want to know who else Chile slays? Political opposition and student protestors! So Chile, how about you focus on playing soccer and shut the fuck up?









"Tha UN just don't unda-stand"







Breaking News! Lindsay Lohan successfully made a left turn at an intersection! It’s true, she used her blinker and barely scraped a mailbox but didn’t hit any buildings or people so she was able to coast to the local police station to surrender herself without any further incidents. I smell a Nobel Prize in the works!

Book your tickets now folks, Nicholas Cage is slated to star in the sequal to the thrill a minute, intellectual thriller, National Treasure. National Treasure: Book of Secrets will be released in December. It rejoins Benjamin Franklin Gates (Cage) as he tries to unravel the turth behind the assassination of Abraham Lincoln. I fell asleep five minutes into the first one but this one proves to be an amazing adventure wrapped in an orgasm!

By the way, Cage insisted that his treasure hunter character be named "Benjamin Franklin Gates" because he was worried American audiences wouldn't be able to figure out what his character did for a living. He's probably right. In Cage's next movie he plays a serial sex offender whose name is "Fister P. Rapeboy"













"I got offered that 'Captain Canuck' movie, what do ya think?"

And finally,

Silverchair frontman Daniel Johns retracted his statement that he, Bono and Australian MP Peter Garrett lay on a bed together smoking joints listening to Silverchair’s new album. Bono was quoted as saying “That is absolute rubbish, I’d never listen to Silverchair”.

That concludes another well spent four minutes! Stay tuned next week when we're on location in Paris digging up Jim Morrison's grave to see if he has any killer hash still on him!

Anniver-scary

Beth and I have an anniversary coming up and this year I actually remembered. All it took was having the date tattoed onto the inside of my eyelids. I've got a whole day of activites planned so the day will be jammed packed. In any case, it's guaranteed to be better than last year when I forgot I was married. So here is a quick rundown of all the crap I threw together at the Drive-thu at Jack in the Box.

6:30 AM:

Wake Beth up by dumping a bucket of cold water on her to remind her of our honeymoon when I got drunk and fell off the back of a paddle boat, taking her down with me.

6:31 AM

Dry her off with the set of five industrial blower fans I just bought. (Reminder: Duane buy some more surge protectors)

6:40 AM

Prance to the side of the bed and serenade her with this poem I wrote:

Beth
You look lovely
When you dance
How does one try
To get into those pants?
Lo,
High,
Happiness is something
Only your love can bring
You had me at "Are you mental or something?"

6:45 AM

Make Beth breakfast in bed (Reminder: Duane thaw out the seven packs of Pilsbury Toaster Strudels)









"Please stop jabbing me in the stomach, I'm on my third gastric bypass here"





7:30 AM

Suprise Beth with four hour marathon of her favorite tv show "Punky Brewster" thought to be lost to obscurity

11:30 AM

Blindfold Beth and tell her where the car is. Then get all my shit together and drive her to "The Giggling Leprechaun" incense and aura interpretation shop. Give her enough money to buy that dragon lamp she keeps talking about. Hopefully that will keep her distracted long enough for me to smoke a pack and catch a few Z's.






Goes great with our Styx frosted mirror











1:00 PM

Assuming Beth loves guns as much as me, take her to the shooting range for some practice on an M-60 7.62 mm so she'll look just like those girls from that magazine, "Cocked and Loaded". (Reminder: Find out if said magazine exists)

5:00 PM

Dinner at "The Golden Shower" Chinese buffet. Hopefully owner didn't mind when I demanded that staff perform a kabuki theatre for us, sounded mad for some reason when I kept asking about it and apologizing for dropping the bomb on them and all.

7:30 PM

Take Beth to the movie "License To Wed". Robin Williams has finally proved himself to be the funniest man in America. Make home made treat consisting of popcorn, Junior Mints and nachos blended together - feed treat to Beth during movie.













"In my next movie, I play a robot werewolf with a heart of gold that nobody understands"


10:00 PM

Drive Beth to our local makeout joint, outisde of the booking office as seen on our TV show, that place always makes me nostalgic, weepy, and hornier then an Amish pimp on Cialis.

10:01 PM

Dust ourselves off, drive home and hope the kids haven't super-glued the fridge shut like they did the last time we were away for more than an hour.

Shock and Paw

It’s no secret that I’m getting on in age and I have to come to the realization that sooner or later I won’t be able to smoke four packs of cigarettes and run an average of seventeen miles a day. I figure I’ll be able to do one of those, but not both. I guess you can’t have your tobacco cake and eat it too. Aging is one of those things I don’t like to think about, like doing my taxes and “The Two Corey’s” reality show.

Sure, sometimes I get sore, achy muscles but that’s nothing some fine Lakota Joint Formula can’t fix. I gotta be honest, the first time a pharmacist told me about “Lakota Joint Formula” I thought he’d gone to live with some indelicious people or something and learned how to make killer honey oil for my blunts. It’s almost as good though, just make sure you smear that stuff on your shoulders and not your weed, phew, that was a strange night in the compost bin.








For those long, tiring days of trampling the rights of Natives






On top of getting sore all the time, your mind goes somewhat funky when you’re older. The other day Beth told me she was getting worried about me when she listened in on a board meeting I was having in our bedroom with my favorite G.I. Joes. She said I was chastising Shipwreck because his parrot kept crapping all over the place and yelling that if there’s one thing as CEO of this house I don’t tolerate, it’s avian feces on my pillow. Then I listened intently as Barbecue brought up the all important issue of having flame retardant suits for me with these meth heads getting more and more sophisticated but then Footloose interjected saying BBQ was full of shit because everyone knows meth heads could never figure out how to operate a flame thrower. Then Dusty told Footloose to smoke another joint and shut up. I guess Footloose’s description on the back of his box says it all

"Some of the Joes think that Footloose is out there, but all he's trying to do is find himself".

I agreed with this sentiment and told Footloose it was ok because we are one in same, me and him. As Beth was telling me this story, of which I had no recollection, she screamed because as I was listening I had leaned forward all contemplative like and managed to place both hands on the open waffle iron. Good thing years of blocking punches in high school and fixing hot water heaters without gloves made my hands as calloused and leathery as Maria Shriver’s face. I also beat off a lot too, that might have had something to do with it.






"Year! It be only a matter of time till me leg joints no longer support me bodeee"





Because my meeting with my colleagues was a complete hallucination, and I found myself brushing my teeth this morning with Cheez Whiz, I felt obligated to do some thinking about my future on this planet. So after I got off the toilet I had some pretty nice ideas lined up to help me survive and conquer the fast paced world of crime and punishment and those of us who capitalize on it.

"Healthy Brain" Memory Pills from Shen Clinic

















The Shen Clinic is Paraguay's number one brain and athlete's foot clinic. Their memory pills will make sure that I walk outdoors with my pants on and remember which detention facilities our kids are currently at. There's a warning on the label that says "Not approved by the FDA" but who cares what those crooks think anyway. The Shen Clinic says to take their pills as directed, which means 14 at a time while eating corned beef and only corned beef. Failure to take the pills while eating said beef will result in what the clinic calls "traumatic ass-collapse".

Steven Seagal's Lightning Bolt Energy Drink


















Two of the greatest things ever, Steven Seagal and Thailand, have combined flabby forces and produced one of the most potent energy drinks allowed on the market. Claiming to have the same effect as a paramedic's defibrillator, Lightning Bolt will turn a sluggish, boring day at the office into a productive experience leaving your co-workers assuming you snort coke, so it's a win-win situation. Lightning Bolt should not be taken by pregnant mothers, women thinking about getting pregnant or mothers against drunk driving.

Lipo Burn Fat Reducing Cream


















From a bunch of people who think that those Hydroxycut commercials aren't annoying enough, comes Lipo Burn. Yes it's true, now you don't have to exercise or even get up off the floor to lose weight. Just have a loved one smear Lipo Burn on those unsightly and hard to reach obese areas and in as little as two weeks you'll start to see a major difference in your weight and your ability to breath! I for one stand by this product 100%. I not only bathe in it, I put it on my toast.

Cytosport Muscle Milk














This product does a much better job explaining itself then I can so here are few points from their interweb page:

"Muscle Milk contains metabolically favorable ingredients that stimulate growth and recovery in a similar manner to mother's milk nourishing a baby"

FINALLY, you have no idea how long I spend wandering the isles of Kroeger's looking for a meal replacement that tastes exactly like breast milk.

Muscle Milk suggests the following drinking regiment:

"One glass 30 minutes before your workout

One glass during your workout

One glass an hour after your workout

One glass in the evening before bed"

That's it? I'd figured with something that yummy you'd have it set up intravenously or at least with one of those party beer hat things.

Well well well, looks like I just got the upper hand on Mr. Crookety-Crook with all of these stellar products. I'll slowly introduce them to my normal routine of doing nothing and hope for the best, watch out world.