Archive - January 2008


It’s Quite Simple, Really


     Self-help books are a $47 billion dollar a year industry.*  In light of that, what I’m about to do is going to seem profoundly silly.  I’m going to GIVE you the key to happiness.  That’s right, give.   Mostly because I couldn’t figure out a way to stretch it out to book length and charge you $24.95 (plus shipping and handling) for it.  So, you lucky people get it for free.

     Are you ready?

     Are you sure?

     Alright then, here is the key to happiness.  Be a 13-year-old.  There.  Enjoy.

     What?  You need more?  Okay.  Better make that “Be a 13-year-old boy.”  Because 13-year-old girls are mean.  (Yeah, I’m talking about YOU, Karen Huffman.) 

      You might be saying, “But, what if I’m not a 13-year-old boy?”  Then you need to become one.  You need that sense of humor.  Where you’re young enough to still find knock-knock jokes funny, but old enough to understand dirty jokes.  You also find the words “nuts” and “balls” always funny, regardless of context.  I know I do.  I laughed just typing that.

     If you can do that, you’ll find so many more things that are funny.

     You need some more examples of stuff you’d find funny as a 13-year-old boy?  Okay.  I’ll give you a couple more to get you started.

     This Christmas, my five-year-old got a present that is essentially ping-pong balls (hee-hee) knocking into each other on a column of air.  Pretty heady stuff.  The following is a verbatim excerpt from the instructions:



1.      Choose your weapons and plug them into one of the holes in your warrior.  Insert them until the hit the stop, so they are locked in.

2.      Don’t push the weapons in too far or you will damage the hole making it too large to hold weapons.


That, my friends, is exactly what a Sex Ed class SHOULD sound like.  And, it’s f-ing funny!


More?  Okay.  I was watching “1 vs. 100” the other night.  What’s that you ask?  A game show where one person who’s not very good at trivia matches wits against 100 people who aren’t very good at trivia.  Why was I watching that?  The writers' strike, I suppose.  (Side note – That’s ballsy writers.  Hollywood has been subsisting off remakes for a decade now, not sure why the writers’ strike is actually affecting anything.  Other side note – my screenplay – a delicious teen romp of the American Pie ilk – is ready and available.)  Anyway, this question came up:


“Which of the following is an Olympic weightlifting event?”


Here were the choices:


A.                            The Clean and Jerk  (This is the correct answer, and it’s been funny since the first time I heard it.)

B.                             The Grab and Thrust  (Really?)

C.                            The Rub and Tug  (Insert spit-take here.)


I don’t remember what I was doing at the time, but whatever it was, I had to stop.  Because I had herniated myself.  Apparently, someone on the "1 vs. 100" staff is familiar with my theory and one-upped me by actually hiring 13-year-old boys to write for them during the strike.

Kudos, “1 vs. 100.”  Kudos.


   *I totally just made that up.



Dude, WTF?
Being a loyal follower for long years I had assumed you would at least acknowledge the intoxicated ramblings I sent you after returning from my questionable Barcelona trip in October. Took me a good half an hour to write it too! Not cool, llama buddy…

Or could it be the subject that was the problem?

Formerly "Hopeless in …"

Kind regards / Mit freundlichen Grüßen,


Dear Formerly,

Jeez, I'm sorry.  I did get your note.  And I certainly meant to reply.  Indeed, I thought I had.  You see, sometimes, in this life, we can become a bit overwhelmed with the minutia and we forget to really appreciate the...Hey, look!  A butterfly!

Hope that helps,


Dear Llama;
I have a thing about writing to animals for advice.  Is this abnormal?

Looking in Erie 


Dear Looking,

This is a bit tricky.  See, it isn't so much abnormal as it is a bad idea.  You shouldn't take advice from animals.  But see, if I, an animal, tell you not to take advice from animals, and you decide to follow it, then you can't take my advice, which this time, is actually quite good.  but if you don't follow my advice, you're also still taking advice from animals, which may or may not be what I had intended for you to do in the first place.  Quite the conundrum, eh?  Honestly, I think that if you want to get out of this you should down a pint of bourbon and get a bathroom hand-job from that one-eyed girl at TGI Fridays.

Or should you?

Hope that helps,


Dear Mr. Llama,

I have a terrible problem.  I am really addicted to your website but Mr. Buddy doesn't update enough.  Would you please kick him in the head, so that he might have some ideas for what to write?

Eagerly awaiting your next installment,


Dear Shelly,

Done, and done.

Hope that helps,


PS  What are you wearing?


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