Every Friday before work I head over to the local rink for a drop-in game of hockey. This morning while getting ready in the locker room, I was chatting up a cameraman for Channel 9 News. Naturally, the discussion lead to attractive local weather personality Kathy Sabine and her recent engagement. The entire locker room erupted into chaos and a flurry of "That sucks!" and "The guy is probably a handjob!" and "I would make her yell the extended forecast in ecstasy while tagging her the way of the dog" (that last one was all projection on my part, but it should have been said). During my drive to work, I compiled a top five list of the hottest local female news* personalities:

1. Kathy Sabine
2. Libby Weaver
3. Molly Hughes
4. Whei Wong
5. Stacy Donaldson

* Being as all newscasts are biased, I have no loyalty to any particular network so I measure their "watchability" on how attractive the female personalities are. I watch Fox 31 9 O' Clock News for Libby Weaver and Whei Wong, Channel 4 News at 10 for Molly Hughes (flipping mid-broadcast to Channel 9 for weather with Kathy Sabine) and in the mornings I tune to Fox 31 (again) for Good Day Colorado and weather with Stacy Donaldson. My maleness amazes even me sometimes.

Labels: kathy sabine, libby weaver, molly hughes, news, stacy donaldson, whei wong, women of my news

In my hometown:

The Arvada Police Department reports that Bandidos and High Plains Drifters distribute significant quantities of methamphetamine in Arvada.

Good to know that outlaw bikers are in Arvada distributing some crank. Word on the street is that No Excuses (a strip mall bar in Arvada Plaza, located across the parking lot from the KFC) is slinging white crunch out the back.

Labels: a-town, drugs

Jake: I sent my brother-in-law the screaming dad mp3. His reply was: "Man, I miss New England. It has been a long time since someone's dad called me a cunt."
Me: I am incorporating that into my verbal arsenal when I have a son. I will call him Mary, Cinderella, ballerina and cunt. Every once and awhile I will call him son, just so he does not commit suicide.
Jake: I am going to stick with "Boy" mostly. "Hey boy, get me a beer" or "Hey boy, mix daddy a martini. And do not cock it up like you did last time."
Me: Good times.
Jake: Yes.

Labels: c-bomb, im convos, jake

• The bungee fuck swing.
• McSweeneys: Christmas Day with my new girlfriend's family as a circa-1982 text-based computer adventure game.
• Car loving taken to another level.

Labels: link goodness, sex, tomfoolery

• May 19, 1536. The first public execution of an English queen; Anne Boleyn.
• May 19, 1890. Ho Chi Minh is born in central Vietnam.
• May 19, 1928. Pol Pot is born in French Indochina.
• May 19, 1992. Amy Fisher, age 17, shoots Mary Jo Buttafuoco in the face.
• May 19, 1994. Jackie Onassis dies of lymphatic cancer in her 15 room Manhattan apartment.

Labels: history, politics, pop culture

The United Keetoowah Band of Cherokee Indians says that Ward Churchill's (Colorado Univeristy Ethics Studies professor who compared World Trade Center victims to Nazi bureaucrat Adolf Eichmann) tribal membership is fraudulent. Is it me or does he look like Andy Warhol and Lou Reed's love child?

Labels: 9/11, colorado, politics, pop culture

Yesterday, a squirrel ran underneath my moving car and committed suicide. I saw the little bastard out of the corner of my eye as I drove down the street and assumed he would not tempt fate by running into the street until I was past. As I came closer, the disturbed vermin darted out from the curb and I flattened his ass. The squirrel had some emotional issues and my Firestone radial happened to be a means to an end. He is survived by a family of ninety infested with the bubonic plague.

Labels: death, tomfoolery

Do not taunt the ice cream man. He has to deal with snotty, whining, fat little bastards like you all day long and is liable to have a short fuse. More than likely he will be a foreigner from a country where it is socially acceptable to punch a chubby kid in the face. When you are in line getting your bomb pop, just smile, pay the man his money, thank him for his convenient delicious cold treats and walk away.

Labels: open letter, rage

An interview with a former television weatherman sociopath convicted for pedophilia. My favorite excerpt:

When you were fat and ugly and they don't pick you for a sports team they beat you up. That's another reason for going up to help him. If anything, I would come up there and just give him a big hug. If he really was who he said he was and in need. I even told him I only had a few hours to spend. I asked him what he liked to eat. He said 'Steak or pizza.' I brought steak and pizza coupons with me. Do you think the federal government used that in their press conference?

Your courtesy on the steak and pizza coupons is duly noted, Bill. Now, keep your hands off the goddamn kids.

Labels: crime, perversion

• A man opposed to the dumping of raw sewage into the Pacific Ocean protests dressed as a giant shit known as Mr. Floatie.
• The Miss Tiffany Universe pageant is like all other beauty pageants save one minor detail; the contestants are packing heat.
• An email exchange between a dwarf and a bloated movie critic.

Labels: link goodness, perversion, poop, pop culture

Children cannot hit slowly thrown balls because their brains are not wired to handle slow motion. From this day forth, whenever I play soft toss with a kid, I am throwing heat. I will even brush them off the plate so they know I am boss. "How does that chin music sound, Timmy? How does it sound?! You are in Daddy's world now, bitch!"

Labels: sports, tomfoolery

Biblical scholars have found ancient texts that claim the number of the beast is 616 instead of 666. Wikipedia has already made mention of this finding. They are all over new information like a priest on an altar boy.

Labels: religion

This link about Bob Saget reminds me of the greatest joke ever told:

One day a little boy accompanies his mother to the circus. This was a special occasion in the little boy's life as his mother, a hard-working single woman, was poor and could ill afford many luxuries for them. The boy and his mother watched as acrobats performed on trapezes high above the crowd, elephants stood on their back legs, a lion tamer stuck his head into the open mouth of a tiger and numerous men were fired out of cannons. As the circus drew to a close, a clown approached the center ring and the lights dimmed.

"Now is the time during our show when we bring a lucky person up here to drive the clown car," says the clown.

The spotlights start spinning wildly around the tent.

"Who will it be? Who will be the lucky person?" the clown boomed into the microphone.

A frenzy of screams and mayhem erupt from the audience. The lights whiz, spinning faster and faster until they suddenly stop, right on the little boy. The clown calls for the little boy to come to the center ring and immediately the little boy leaps from his seat and tears down the aisle, hurdling the metal barricade and jumping into the waiting arms of the clown. The clown, grin stretched across his made-up face, squats down and one knee and says to the little boy, "Now, before you can drive the clown car you must answer me one question."

"Okay," replies the little boy, bursting in anticipation.

"The question is this: Are you a horse's head?"

Confused the little boy looks up at the clown. He does not know how to respond. He looks to his mother in grandstands for guidance. She nods her head, encouraging the little boy to speak. Finally, the little boy mutters, "Well, no. I am not a horse's head."

"Then you must be a horse's ass!" says the clown.

The circus tent erupts in laughter. Parents and children point at the little boy and mock him for being so stupid. Embarrassed beyond belief, the little boy runs out of the tent and into the night. His mother eventually finds him behind the funnel cake stand, his eyes swollen with tears and his tender heart broken by the clown's cruel joke.

Years pass and the little boy grows into a man. The clown's joke affecting him deeply, the man turns to drugs, therapists and prostitutes to fill the great empty void the clown left in his life. All he wanted was to drive the clown car and be a happy little boy. He vowed to find the clown and teach him a lesson.

He calls various circuses and asks them if they have a clown who does jokes about horse's asses. After numerous unsuccessful attempts, the man finally finds the circus and the clown, which are touring on the other side of the country. He immediately books a plane ticket buys entry into the circus.

During the long flight the man grows more and more excited at the prospect of confronting the mean clown. He arrives at the circus and takes his seat close to the center ring. The circus seems to move in slow motion as the man sits transfixed in the crowd, waiting for his moment of vindication. Finally, his moment arrives. Like so many years before, the clown walks to the center ring and makes his announcement. The spotlights begin spinning wildly around the tent and the suddenly stop on the man. The clown calls for him to come down to the center ring and he complies, coolly walking down the aisle. He approaches the center ring and shakes the clown's hand.

"Before you drive the clown car, you must answer me one question," says the clown.

"Certainly," says the man, excited, for his moment of reckoning.

"Are you a horse's head?"

"No."

"Than you must be a horse's ass!" yells the clown.

The circus erupts in laughter as it did when the man was a little boy. The man rips the microphone out of the clown's hand and motions for silence from the crowd. Awestruck, the audience grows quiet. The man's moment has arrived. He brings the microphone to his mouth, ready to unleash the years of pain he suffered caused by the clown's cruel joke. He looks at the clown, points his finger and screams, "Hey! Fuck you, clown!"

Labels: pop culture, tomfoolery

• A funeral procession led by the Oscar Mayer Wienermobile.
• A car crashes into the second story of a house.
• Longtime reader and friend of the MB got a haircut over the weekend in preparation for the upcoming Trixter concert.

Labels: death, link goodness, music, pop culture