ME DAY! Or HORNY BOB

I love the rights you get only your birthday. You can be thoroughly bratty, self-centered and demanding. It's like reliving my spoiled little kid youth all over again. Although Penny did get pissed when I tried to eat some of her half of the incredible Oreo crumble sundae we had at Bandera. Oh and C list celebrity Bob Saget was there. You know, the guy who played Dad to the Olsen Twins on the shitcom Full House. Hm... Perhaps celebri-lite is a more accurate description. Anyhowz he was there and he seemed to be hitting on one of the new male waiters.

BOB SAGET: "I come here twice a week, and I haven't seen you before. You must be a new addition."
WAITER DUDE: "Yeah, I just started last week."
BOB SAGET: Well, hi, I'm Bob." SUBTEXT - You're fresh looking man meat and I'm a Bobcat on the prowl. I'll get your number later and we can make a manwich.

I never though of Bob Saget as a raging bottom. Actually I never really thought of Bob Saget. I hope he doesn't google his name and come across this. That might be embarrassing for him. Couldn't you see him doing exactly that.

Fuckslut! This post was supposed to be about me and then Bob Saget had to pop into my head and ruin everything. I hate you Bob. Right now I hate you like a 14 year-old girl hates her nosy mother.

On the subject of teenagers I saw a great title at the book store yesterday.

I already have plans to have somebody else raise my teenage girl from the age of 13 to 17 and if I have a boy from 10 to 14... possibly 23.

31 Candles

Today is my birthday and so I am taking the night off from blogging. I ask that you send me something entertaining or a favorite link. That would be lovely.

Yahoo sent me this.

to
Birthday Specials

Thought For Today
"Sometimes history takes things into its own hands." — Thurgood Marshall, U.S. Supreme Court justice (1908-1993).
Today's BirthdaysJanuary 5th
·
Actress-singer Jill Jones is 30.
·
Actor Jeremy Licht is 34.
·
Rock musician Benjam! in Darvill (Crash Test Dummies) is 38.
·
Country singer Deana Carter is 39.
·
Tennis player Guy Forget is 40.
·
Actress Julia Ormond is 40.
·
Actor Dave Foley is 42.
·
Actor Patrick Cassidy is 43.
·
Rock singer Michael Stipe (R.E.M (news - web sites).) is 45.
·
Country singer Patty Loveless is 48.
·
Rock musician Bernard Sumner (New Order, Joy Division) is 49.
·
Actress Ann Magnuson is 49.
·
Country singer Kathy Forester (The Forester Sisters) is 50.
·
Opera singer Grace Bumbry is 68.
·
Actress Dyan Cannon is 68.
·
Former heavyweight boxing champion Floyd Patterson is 70.
·
Football Hall-of-Fame coach Don Shula is 75.
·
Actress Barbara Rush is 78.
·
Actress Jane Wyman is 91.
Return to My Yahoo!
This Day in HistoryOn Jan. 4, 1965, President Johnson outlined the goals of his "Great Society" in his State of the Union Address.
On this date:
In 1821, the first native-born American saint, Elizabeth Ann Seton, died in Emmitsburg, Md.
In 1896, Utah was admitted as the 45th state.
In 1904, the Supreme Court ruled that Puerto Ricans were not aliens and could enter the United States freely; however, the court stopped short of declaring them U.S. citizens.
In 1948, Britain granted independence to Burma.
In 1951, during the Korean conflict, North Korean and Communist Chinese forces captured the city of Seoul.
In 1960, French author Albert Camus died in an automobile accident at age 46.
In 1965, poet T.S. Eliot died in London at age 76.
In 1974, President Nixon refused to hand over tape recordings and documents subpoenaed by the Senate Watergate Committee.
In 1987, 16 people were killed when an Amtrak train bound from Washington to Boston collided with Conrail engines approaching from a side track in Chase, Md.
In 1990, Charles Stuart, who'd claimed to have been wounded and his wife shot dead by a robber, leapt to his death off a Boston Harbor bridge after he himself became a suspect.
Ten years ago: The 104th Congress convened, the first entirely under Republican control since the Eisenhower era; Newt Gingrich was elected Speaker of the U.S. House of Representatives.
Five years ago: Former presidential rival Elizabeth Dole (news - web sites) endorsed fellow Republican George W. Bush. Israel and the Palestinians reached agreement on an Israeli troop pullback from 5 percent of the West Bank.
One year ago: In Iowa, seven of the nine Democratic presidential hopefuls participated in a feisty, first debate of the election year. Afghans approved a new constitution. Georgians overwhelmingly elected Mikhail Saakashvili president, two months after he'd led protests that forced Eduard Shevardnadze to step down. Louisiana State University won college football's Sugar Bowl, defeating Oklahoma 21-14.

Phyllis Diller Sighting!

(Comedian Phyllis Diller pictured above (right)

My sources have uncovered the following rumor.



I just report the stories. I cannot confirm or deny Diller's skill as a "Cork Thriller." Cork Thriller? How very odd. That doesn't even make sense? Maybe it's supposed to say "Sock" Thriller and the letter "S" is just cut off. Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe even better.

New Years Eve-nts

Penny and I brought some friends along to a decadent New Years Eve celebration at one of the nicest mansions in the city. I'm not Johnny mansion party but I've. A wonderful time was had by all and by all I mean everyone except my liver. I again drank to beyond the land of drunk and happy and well into the hey, I want to go out and Russian Dance in the middle of the dance floor. I then started taking pictures of random people and things with all the skill of brain-damaged infant. I'll have to post the masterpieces for your gazing pleasure.

Other highlights:

Strong Freeflowing drinks
Phyllis Diller was there.
It got to see several old work friends. Just the ones I liked were there.
Strong Freeflowing drinks
I got to wear a tiara and pulled off the look with manly and metrosexual panache.

We peer pressured the bartender into doing a shot with us we said we'd say he was rude to the guests if he didn't toss one back.

I met somebody's Uncle Bob and we hugged and drank tequila shots. Maybe it was your Uncle Bob? If so, your Uncle is as friendly as he is sweaty.

Several men drooled over the gorgeous Mrs. Krankiboy. One turned to me and said "damn, I wonder who gets to go home with that?" I proudly said that she was MY wife, but he didn't believe me. I was going to get her to confirm my story, but I was thwarted by the freeflowing drinks.

A dessert spread fit for the gods.

Somebody, probably my wife, drove me home and instructed me to take our two dogs out. I pushed the autopilot button and the dogs ran out as I wandered after them holding not a leash or a poop bag, but a camera. I felt spiritually compelled to take several pictures of them in the rain. I realized the camera had been out of batteries since we left the party. But I bet those would have been some magical dogs-peeing-on-a-tree-at-night-in-the-rain-photos. It's hard to capture art when you're wasted.

Puppy's First Pub

Karen, Rod and I went out to a pub in Karen's home town of Marin. And yeah, we thought "why not, we'll bring her little 16 week-old puppy Boo along."

You may be wondering. Who's Karen? - Well, she and I met through our mutual dear friend, Jay. Picture your favorite gal friend who's so fucking cool and great to talk to and and brings the party flava everywhere she goes. Well, your friend is a homely shut-in compared to Karen.

Okay. Who's Rod? A lovable Aussie bloke who we met while paying a visit to the Raggioni family. Some of of Karen's old friends. We all hit it off and lured Rod out to go drinking with us. You see it turns out that this big Aussie Rugby player likes to drink. Shocking, aye? So that was our foursome. Me, Rod, Karen and lil' Boo.

Things worth mentioning:

1) Tony the pub's owner & bartender looked and sounded a lot like a chipper Geoffrey Rush, very exuberant.

2) Little Boo the Puppy yapped. Rod and I coughed in a sad attempt to try and cover up the pup's yelps.

3) Tony the Pub Owner found out that we'd brought a puppy into his bar without permission and as you might expect... he jovially introduced himself and gave us all a free round of drinks. Perhaps it helped that it was a British Pub and Boo is a King Charles Spaniel.

4) Puppy tinkled right on the door of the Mayflower and the bar manager happily cleaned it up. I'm serious.

5) Krankiboy and Rod order a few rounds of Boddingtons Ale. Yum.

6) Scrawny Krankiboy tries to keep up with Big Rod's drinking pace. Hmmm.

7) We videotape Boo, the puppy... Getting poured a shot at the bar and paying for it with a kiss. Tony is Broadway material. Boo, playing the piano doggystyle. And lastly Boo at the pool table sinking a very impressive shot in the side pocket. Puppy got mad skillz!

8) Hijinks! Rod helped Karen and I play a masterful phone prank on our friend Jay. Rod called Jay from my cell phone. Jay is having fun off in Arizona when he gets this call from some Australian guy who he's never met.

Rod: "Hello, who's this? Is this Jake?... Hey then, got a bit of a problem here. Oh, My name's Rod and I own a bar here in Marin County. M-kay there's this bloke and this lady and they've gone and got a bit juiced and now they're passed out at my bar? Yeah, I didn't know what to do with them I saw that your numba was in both of their cell phones. Oh, yeah and there's a little dog here too... but, the dog's not passed out, just the bloke and the lady. Can you, come by and pick 'em up?! They're super wrecked, mate. You're in Arizona! Jeez. Fuck-all. Yeah, I'd put em in a cab, but where do I send 'em? That's great that you'll pay for it, I'm sure he's a good bloke this shit-faced friend of yours, but mate... Where do I fucking send them? No, mate I don't know where they're staying. Look I gotta close up in a bit and they're really not looking so good... First the lady here passed out and then did the bloke. What's his name? Okay, well, what the hell do I do with them? Oh, krikey! It's fuck of a spectacle. The little dog just wizzed on your friend's back... Okay, I'll see if I can rouse him. Hey, fella, your friend's on the phone. You up? Wake it up there.
(I take the phone)
Me: (Slurry and confused sounding) Nnnmmm... naa... uuch... who's this for the phone?
Jay: It's Jay. Man, is that you?
Me: Um. It's.. I'm me. Jay... hey...
Jay: What the hell is going on? Are you okay? Wha--
Me: I'm sorry... Karen and I went... are at... a bar. We were doing like, shots of-- she she passed out.
Jay: (really worried) The bar guy said a girl passed out. Did Karen pass out?

Me: I fucking sorry, man. Then I threw...(garbled)
Jay: What? You threw what?
Me: Yeah, I feel so stupid.
Jay: Wait. Listen. What did you throw?
Me: I threw up.
Jay: Buddy... I'm in Arizona I want to help y--
Me: I threw up... on the dog. A little... up on the little dog. Nnnuummhh.... eemmff...!
Jay: Where are you staying there?
Me: I don't feel good... but don't call Penny
Jay: Okay.
Me: No, don't call Penny, okay?! Please.
Jay: Okay.
Me: I'm sorry. Also, Jay?
Jay: Yeah?
Me: I love you Jay. I love you, man. (throaty swallowing sounds)
(Rod takes back the phone)
Rod: (IRATE) Your fucking buddy is spewing up in my fucking bar.
Jay: Please, I'm sorry, just take care of them, he's a good guy. I'll pay for it. Just take care of them, okay?!
Rod: Hold on!
(Rod gives the phone to Karen who is upbeat and perfectly sober)
Karen: Hey, Jay, what's going on, bitch? We just got you soo bad. I was trying so hard not to laugh out loud. God, I almost peed my pants.

Jay was a little annoyed at me. But it was a magical moment. Rod deserves a fucking award, he was so convincing. I promised I'd visit him when I make it over to Sydney.

P.S. I'm not a big drinker. After closing out two bars, drinking, three glasses of wine, four pints of Boddingtons Ale, a lemon drop martini, 1 shot of Jaegermeister (VILE SHIT that probably tastes like Demon Semen - the fluid, not the band.) I immediately chased down the Jaeger-eww with a stiff double strength Rum and Coke just to get the Jaeger taste out of my mouth. I was actually pretty close to passing out and Karen wisely insisted that I do so on her Aunt and Uncle's couch rather than try and operate Penny's BMW.

When we got to the house the next thing I remember from my foggy stupor was picking up a cat and bringing it inside the house. Fortunately it actually did belong there. On my way to the bathroom I discovered that her Aunt and Uncle also owned a huge, huge old dog named Bear. Bear made it snarlingly clear that he was not happy that some strange, drunk guy had just awoken him from his hibernation. I froze and tried not to make direct eye contact with Bear. Somebody threw him a treat from out of a dark bedroom and he left me alone to pass out.

God and all his chubby angels should bless Karen's Aunt and Uncle for letting me recover from my drinking binge, making me peppermint tea, toast and coffee. I felt so at home that I expressed my thanks by passing out again. Drunkiboy then woke up at two thirty in the afternoon clutching Boo's pink squeaky rubber bone to my chest.

Moral: Never bring an Australian and a King Charles Spaniel puppy to a British Pub.

Also: Peppermint tea - good for hangovers.

I've never tried it but I'm told that Hair of the Dog works well, too.

Mother Fuckin' Nature!

The drive from Los Angeles to S.F. normally takes about five + hours. This time the trip it took nearly ten. A major accident had traffic crawling along at three miles an hour for the beginning of my haul. The rain was pounding down and had helped a big rig truck to collide with another truck. The front of the truck had snapped off from it's wheels and landed upside-down. It was not your run-of-the mill fender bender. A bit up the I5 freeway was a van mashed into the dividing rail. The rain was hitting the ground in buckets, which slowed traffic enough for me to see police hand-cuff a man and stuff his large frame into the back of a police car. So three hours into the trip and I was only 50 miles outside of L.A.

I stopped into the gas station to fill up my car and unfill my bladder. I went into the little food mart store and the scene looked like something out of a Tokyo subway station at rush hour. Close to a hundred people were lined up to use the 2 rest rooms. It was madness and I wasn't willing or able to wait. I walked outside in my rain jacket and saw a row of bushes. I hustled up the hill and answered nature's call. In the short time it took to take a wizz my pants were completely drenched with the vertical rain that was whipping around. I zipped up and justled back to my car. Just as I that's when I lost my footing slipped bashed my chest, knee and hand on the slick pavement. I was already feeling self-conscious for having just watered the bushes and now I was fully humiliated as I'd taken a spill. Worse was the fact that I continued to slide down the hill face down. I got to my feet and look around to see if anybody had witnessed my pitiful aquatic ballet. Nobody had, but I had bruised my ribs. I got back on the road and things were moving and then the rain let up for a few minutes. The wind was blowing my car all over the road and I thanked the sweet baby Jesus that I'd taken Penny's BMW and not my 1990 Honda P.O.S.

So hurray no rain, the ground in this area of the interstate was actually dry. It was still hard to see but at least the road wasn't slick. That's when a huge cloud of dust blew up and made visibility zero. I get a rain storm, traffic jam, piss related rib injury and a fucking dust storm. I was thinking seriously of going back, but I'm stupid and stubborn and my mom would have been disappointed. After a fit of rapid-fire cursing at the top of my lungs I felt much better. I reminded myself that I hadn't been hit with a 30 foot wall of water like the now 400,000+ and climbing Tsunami victims who've been killed and the tens of millions of people who had their homes and lives and families swept away by mother fucking nature. I wondered if my sis Kylie was enjoying her Thailand vacation among all that chaos. Boohoo me, poor Krankiboy. That made me feel like a royal dick. However once I did get to San Fran and searched for over an hour to find a parking spot I was almost hoping the big one would hit and the earth would swallow me up. I take that back, I don't think it's a good week to taunt Mother Fucking Nature. In fact I'd like to point out to Ms. Mo-Fo-Nature that I am kind to creatures big and small and I go out of my way to recycle. So Mother Nature, if you're reading this blog please don't kill me or my friends and family. I promise to bear in mind what a tiny speck I am in the big scheme of things. You know, except on my birthday and stuff.

Cheezy McWheezy

It was really exciting to get this card and newsletter in the mail from Bob & Erika Clarke! They are so thoughtful to have put together the family photo card and newsletter and send one to me. It feels good to be included.



A New Baby?! I had no idea Erika was even pregnant. And if you look above you can see that they handwrote in the nickname they made up for me. Cheezy McWheezy!



Yes, sometimes I can come across as a bit jaded, it's true. But it's always great to hear from dear friends and family during the holiday season. Who doesn't love learning that a newborn baby has become part of the family? It's must be an exciting thing to experience bringing a new life into the world. Isn't little baby Zane just adorable? Well, I guess that makes me a proud... nothing. Because I have never, seen these people before in my life. I have absolutely no idea who they are. This card & letter just showed up specifically addressed to me. Weird. So, from now on I'm going to make it a Holiday tradition and write to the Clarke Clan every Christmas and on Zane's birthday. Those zany Clarkes. What'll they be up to next?

Merry Christmas Everybody
Love, Cheezy McWheezy!
XOXO

P.S. My next Post will be on January 1st, 2005 (That's Jan 2nd if you're in Australia)

P.P.S if you look at the bottom of my blog page you'll see I added a chat room. Come by for a visit in 2005!

And the unsexy writing award goes too...

...American Author Tom Wolfe. Congrats Tommy! As a writer who has also received the obscure and utterly lame S.H.I.N.E. Award (Sexual Health in Entertainment) for my hilarious Jesse episode where, now get this brilliant comedic twist, While on a scavenger hunt Jesse (Christina Applegate) finds a lost BABY. How outlandishly genius of me.

*sigh* I sure miss sitting around a table of bitter rich TV writers mining for that comedy gold until 4am in the morning.

But this post isn't just about me. I love the "sexy" writing examples they give.

According to the Associated Press, the acclaimed American author and journalist Tom Wolfe won one of the world's most dreaded literary accolades -- the British prize for bad sex in fiction.

The prize is awarded each year to "draw attention to the crude, tasteless, often perfunctory use of redundant passages of sexual description in the modern novel."

Wolfe won it for a a few passages from his latest novel entitled "I am Charlotte Simmons," a tale of campus life at an exclusive American university. Sex on college campus? A sacred place of learning?!

"Slither slither slither slither went the tongue," one of Wolfe's winning sentences begins.

"But the hand that was what she tried to concentrate on, the hand, since it has the entire terrain of her torso to explore and not just the otorhinolaryngological caverns -- oh God, it was not just at the border where the flesh of the breast joins the pectoral sheath of the chest -- no, the hand was cupping her entire right -- Now!"

Wow he just used the naughty "O word" I'm steaming in my jeans.

The British Judges described Wolfe's prose as "ghastly and boring." Can't you just picture these pompus judges like a bunch of sex-crazed school lads stumbling on some of Father's nudie mags? Does that mean that somebody goes through all the books each year to read just the naughty parts? Sounds like a job for a certain Sheriff I know.

Wolfe, the former Washington Post correspondent, whose debut novel "Bonfire of the Vanities" was a highly regarded text of the 1980s, fought off stiff competition from 10 other authors including South African Andre Brink, whose novel "Before I Forget" contains the following description of a woman's vulva:
"It was like a large exotic mushroom in the fork of a tree, a little pleasure dome if ever I've seen one, where Alph the sacred river ran down to a tideless sea. No, not tideless. Her tides were convulsive, an ebb and flow that could take you very far, far back, before hurling you out, wildly and triumphantly, on a ribbed and windswept beach without end." Wait, tides huh? Who doesn't find confusion to be really sexy.

Another writer who only narrowly escaped the prize was Britain's Nadeem Aslam for his novel "Maps for Lost Lovers" a tale of life in a Muslim community in an English town.
"His mouth looked for the oiled berry," one of his raunchiest passages starts. Hmmm... oiled berry? That must refer to-- yipes! Might it have been sexier to say "an engorged clitoris coated in vaginal secretions."

Another Aslam passage starts with, "The smell of his armpits was on her shoulders -- a flower depositing pollen on a hummingbird's forehead." My, my, birds and pollen. Who could possibly keep their hand from speeding southbound on the I-69 after reading that raunchy love metaphor?

The winner of the award, presented by the London-based Literary Review, gets a little Oscar-style statuette and a bottle of champagne -- but only if he or she comes to the awards ceremony in person. Tom Wolfe, was the first writer in the 12-year history of the competition to decline his invitation.

"Slither, slither, slither, slither went the tongue." Is it just me or is it getting exceedingly hot in here? Okay, admittedly, had I written that "sexy sentence" I wouldn't have the nerve to show my face either. In fact, I'd stop putting my picture on the back of the book jacket.

Kuriosity Killed The Krankiboy

I got this in my email inbox today. I don't know who these people are so I am afraid to open it.

From: Gino Hess: Subject: Reinaldo call your brother to do it.

It seems suspicious. It could possibly be a virus, but I'm really curious to find out. In fact I'm dying. So if any of you are feeling lucky or have some office computer where you don't care if it gets infected then by all means open it and tell me what it's about. Aren't you dying to know what Gino wants Reinaldo to ask his brother to do?

Oh, what a quandary.

Hath I offended thee?

Well Then! It has come to my (rather limited) attention that certain people, who shall remain nameless, have been offended by some of my recent posts. I always, always, always do my best to adhere strictly to the standards set forth by The Pope about proper blogging etiquette. If I think something is questionable or possibly in poor taste I look to Jesus. I think out loud to myself... "What would Jesus think? What would Jesus do?" Then I get a large glass of water, pour it out "magically" turning the water into wine. Then I drink it and like a true miracle the worry melts away. In this case I'm just gonna stay the course, fight the good fight and ask that you always be prepared to be offended when you visit my blog. Point of fact I was actually putting the finishing touches on a blog post entirely about disturbing images and was scouring the net for truly foul pictures, but in light of the fact that these rather tame posts are getting panties wadded into a bunchy knot I will refrain.

Wait, no, I won't. I'll have something very nasty in store for the first post of the new year. There are so many eerie and gross images, that I'm having a difficult time selecting them and putting them in order of repulsiveness.

This post has been endorsed and blessed by his Grand Holiness using fresh, pure Vatican spring water. I think somebody should snaz up the Popemobile and Pimp out that ride so that his eminence has a tight, and kick-ass set of wheels.

Virtually Sexy and Utterly Twisted

I love the comedy of Text-to-speech converters! Why is that? Well, follow these steps and you'll see. It's quite simple and very worthwhile. Send me your own writing that I can convert.

1) Don't read the faded text below. Just copy it.

2) Click HERE

3) Now paste the text in the box to the left where it says "enter text."

4) Select Audrey (UK) from the voice choices on the right.

5) Press "Say It!" Wait a few seconds and then turn your speakers way up.

http://snipurl.com/bfly

COPY the faded text BELOW - Don't read it, just paste it.

I like that. Yeah! Fuck me hard daddy. All the way! Fuck me deep! Yes yessss yesss. Oh I'm gonna pop! Don't stop. I need your beefy man-cream down deep in my wet, hot, pussy. I want you to pound me, raw. Raw and hard! oh. Oh! OH!!! I can feel your man juice filling me up. So good. You fuck harder than my sister with a strap on. Ram that shit in. Ram it in Baby! Yessss! You're bruising my liver and I love it. Fuck me until my ears bleed. Aahhh. Oh God, yes! Okay, I'm done. Let's order some chinese food. I'll put a chop stick up your arse for dessert!

Miss Plastic Surgery!

China's economy has started to boom in the urban areas. Income has increased so naturally once you have this increased wealth you're going to want to run right out and have your face and body surgically altered. Personally I don't even think that there's any urgent need for little girls to rush out and get their ears pierced. I see people who have little babies with earrings. Was that the babies idea? Probably not. This news story made me a bit angry and a bit ill. You know the world is spinning off it's axis when even the Communists are getting selfish and vain. Whatever happened to the glory of equality and harmonious communism?

China crowns Miss Plastic Surgery!

I imagine there are some other great pageants that we could put together. I'm sure it won't be long before we see The Miss Chicks with Dicks Pageant.

Wwhat if it were to become more fashionable or more aesthetically pleasing to have only one eye. I'm sure that there will be some "doctor" with laser scalpel in hand who'd be delighted to remove that pesky second eye and relocate the remaining eye into the middle of your forehead for that new and sexy Cyclops look. I thought things were out of hand here in L.A. but Christ on Crispy Fried Rice, China has got us beat by a mile. The real fun will start when these surgically "improved" people start having children who aren't as beautiful as they are. I hope little Kay-Yung-Soo doesn't miss too much kindergarten while she's recovering from her nose job surgery.

I'm feeling queasy and I'm now going to search ebay to see if anybody has put their conjoined twin up for auction.

Random and Wrong

I want just about everything that they sell at Wellcoolstuff.com



Finally the cinematic reunion we've all been waiting for! Talk about star power!



What in the name of knitting is that?! It's either a winter weight Mexican wrestler mask or Gimp Gear for kids. Where are the yarn handcuffs and needlepoint ball gag?

God is a Sports Fan!

Just once I want to see a sports star lose a big game and when the reporters come over to ask him what went wrong he'd say, "It's fuckin' God's fault, we had a solid lead going into the second half and he just shit on us. We were moving the ball really well and then through no fault of our own God decided to smite us or some shit like that. If this screws up my sneaker endorsement deal I'm going after his ass!"

Word Junkie Gets His Fix

I am a word junkie. I love when somebody uses just the right word at just the right moment that perfectly describes the nearly indescribable. If words had a band and traveled around playing music I would be in my Volkswagen Bus following them around the country, and constantly trying to get backstage to try and rip off a piece of their sweaty clothes. There are some words that I have used and supported over the years who have never been fully appreciated. Take a gander at word # 10 on Webster on-line most searched list.

Based on your online lookups, the #1 Word of the Year for 2004 was

Blog noun [short for Weblog] (1999) : a Web site that contains an online personal journal with reflections, comments, and often hyperlinks provided by the writerClick on each of the other words in the Top Ten List for their definitions in the Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary:

2. incumbent 3. electoral 4. insurgent 5. hurricane 6. cicada 7. peloton : noun (1951) : the main body of riders in a bicycle race 8. partisan 9. sovereignty 10. defenestration

I am so oddly delighted that defenestration made the list. I feel like a proud dad who has just seen his son kick the game-winning goal. Look out all you jizzwiches 'cause 2005 is gonna be the year of the fustigation. Fustigation is gonna fustigate all you sorry-ass muther-fuckers words.

Do you have a favorite word that you'd like to share with the Khronicle readers? Yeah, that's what I figured. If not then just vote for your favorite Lesbian make-out photo.

Scientific Study or Shameless Blog Ratings Ploy?

Girls #1

Much like an inkblot test you can learn a great deal about a person from the type of pictures they respond to most strongly.

Take a look at each picture. How does it make you feel. Which one did you find yourself most fascinated by?



Girls #2

Girls #3








Girls #4








Girls #5

Girls #6

Girls #7

Girls #8

Girls #9

Girls #10

Girls #11

Girls # 12

Girls # 13

And... Girls #14

Remember, this is all in the name of Science. So, cast your vote now. Otherwise I've wasted both my time and yours with these frivolous pictures. Kindly comment on which is your favorite picture and why.

Check it out M*ther F***ers

This, my friends is a Fucking A+ Music VIDEO

Can I get a "HELL YES!"?

If you don't like it you can suck on my Blzog yo!

Christmas is a Big Shiny Turd!

Is there a priest who can perform an exorcism to remove the Christmas spirit from my television? All these audio/visual commercial assaults on my delicate senses about shopping, and spending and Christmas time Capitalism are starting to seriously irritate me. They are quickly eroding my traditional good cheer and holiday spirit. I usually like Gift-giving day. So what gives? Well, for one thing, apparently, if I don't buy my wife a diamond pendant or a Lexus sedan or some other high-end luxury item for Christmas I'm a big loser. At least that's what the television has been not so shyly telling me for the past three weeks. I long for a country house away from everything but a nice clean lake with nothing to do but sit by the fire drink spirits, read good books and play with my dogs. Somewhere far away from the traffic grime and Thermo-nuclear blitzkrieg of "BUY THIS or you will never be happy/you don't own one of these, you loser?!" adverts.

Where did things go astray? Television and I used to be such good friends, I just don't know what happened. There was a time not so long ago when the two of us would spend long hours gazing lovingly into one another's flickering eyes. It was special, it was intimate. It was just me and the TV. It was our time. I was in my own private little bubble of bliss, away from the realities of reality. Sweet, sweet, Television, the only-child-who-doesn't-yet-have-a-dog's best friend.

Did I ever share the fact that my Father was in a commune back when we lived in San Francisco and he attempted to kidnap me when I was was 2 years old? True. It's on days like this that I kind of wish he'd succeeded. Perhaps I'd be skipping barefoot across a meadow or mending a barrel or killed by lack of proper medical care.

Chin up. Don't fret for me. Fear not by fellow Greedy capitalist Pig-dogs. I'm quite sure that this feeling will soon pass and I will once again become a good little consumer by the time Christ's Birthday rolls around. Nobody can resist the power and lure of shiny things, gadgets, expensive clothes and the joyous temporary bandage they provide for one's self-esteem. The only other option is to be a genuine person of character and integrity and that just sounds like a lot of hard work and effort.

I'd like to be able to slap a siren onto the roof of my car, and become authorized to find one of these people driving their uber-expensive, overpriced, "my-cock-is-as-huge-as my bank account style SUV" with their personalized narcisistic L.A.rific license plates. I'd pull their shallow morally bankrupt ass out of the vehicle and cuff their arms to their legs. I would then promptly and professionally inform them that their values are all fucked up and so "I'm afraid I'm going to have to take you down to the station and administer a thick and robust beating to your face and torso." A police baton would feel very nice in my hands today. So that's what you can stuff up my stocking. A nice police baton. Or maybe some shiny throwing stars like I always wanted when I was a kid. See that! Look I do want something! Hooray! The magic of Christmas Greed has already begun to reposses my mind and body. Next I'll be strolling the streets singing Christmas carols, slinging rock and sucking dick just to buy that nifty item on my wish list that I simply can not live without. Christmas is just Heroin disguised as a Fat bearded man in a Red Suit. Sure you could try and kick the habit it, but does that really feel like the right choice? Wouldn't you rather have something high-tech or sparkly? And Merry Christmas to you, too, Tiny Tim! I just know in my heart that Santa will bring you a brand new leg this year.

Somebody Down There Likes Me :)

Oh. My. God! I am so happy that I just accidentally spelled God with a capital "G". My Platonic Life Partner and the Sherrif have sent me such good goodies. It makes me feel as happy as the panties in this picture! I had to cover some of the postcard because it was a bit too HARD CORE even for the Krankiboy Khronicles. I am now going to TRY and sleep as it is almost time to get up.

There's no such place as Australia!

Along with not believing in Santa I was also pretty sure that kangaroos were probably made up too. Who could trust what an adult told you after being lied to with all that Santa Claus bullshit. Fuck them, they got me once with the North Pole Crap so I wasn't about to buy into this Land Down Under Australia nonsense. And for several years I had serious doubts about Australia with its funny talking people and weird-ass Koala Bears and Dingos? The hell is a dingo? Go sell your story to some other sucker kid. I simply wasn't buying it.

Well, if I had any lingering notions that Australia was only as real as Atlantis or the Easter Bunny all doubt has been removed. I received not 1 but 2 packages from Australia this week. So to all of you kids who are reading this blog (scary thought) Australia is REAL and THAT kiddies is where the Christmas Elves live. The Elves sent me a lovely gift package. Sure, I could tell you what was in the package, but let's just suffice it to say you couldn't walk in and buy what was in my package at any store in the US of A. It is some good shit! Thank you Elves!