Rent a billboard.

How many times have you seen lame billboards that only increase your already heightened level of road rage? I mean for Todd's sake, you're on a major highway and only one bar of reception? ONE BAR?! And that anus in the Subaru came within inches of taking a chunk out of your headlight, apparently because he didn't have a "stop being a prick" app on his iPhone. And on top of all this, you've got to sit there and take a shitty billboard telling you to watch the new season of Gossip Girl?

Fuck that. It's time to take action. Save several paychecks for the good of your fellow drivers. Sure, you hate every last one of them, but maybe you'd hate them less if you gave them something good to read on their commute, putting them in a better mood, thus making them more polite on the open road. It's all about karma. You need to buy some time on a billboard.

But what to put on a billboard? Well my answer, of course, will come in visual form. Here's what I've got.

Ah yes, the super creepy individualized billboard.


This works in two manners. First, it lightens the mood of average drivers who glance haphazardly, then a split-second later confirm: yes, that billboard seems to be geared entirely toward one person, and is just fucking creepy on top of that. The second way it works is by scaring the bejesus out of someone who happens to be named, in this instance, Sarah Keaton. I personally don't know any Sarah Keatons, but if you do, feel free to pass along my blog to her. I'll happily dedicate this post to her.

That idea, however, is small potatoes compared to my true-baller, mastermind idea: the billboard series! You'll be a legend of the billboard world, although you're going to need a lot of cash for this. But just imagine how awesome this would be. Picture yourself driving down a long boring road, maybe an hour in between towns, and a bunch of nothing. You won't be arriving at your destination for several more hours and you'd kill for something to peak your interest. Then you see this billboard:

Um..ok. I mean don't get me wrong, that's absolutely adorable, but...well who needs to advertise kittens? Who living amongst us has not been notified as to the availability of the product known as "kittens" before? Still, I'm curious...


Ohhh, it's one of those two-part billboard campaigns! Now I get it. Well, actually, I still don't get it. Again, very cute animals, but why in the world would someone pay money for them to be on a...


Now wait a minute, this is just getting ridiculous. That billboard is just a teaser for another billboard? And why does each billboard have the exact same trees behind it? (ANSWER: because I didn't feel like finding new stock photos for billboards to work with in Photoshop...shut your face)



You've got to be fuckin kidding me, baby ducks?! This is too damn adorable for its own good. I don't even care if I miss my exit, I've got to see what this is all about!



Heaven? Is this an advertisement for Heaven? It's starting to sound a lot like Heaven. I halfway expect there to be a gummi bear factory where you can make your own flavors.



FUCK ME, THEY DO! But they don't...



They fucking DOOOO let you make your own flavors of gummi bears! Holy shit-on-a-stick, they let you make your own gummi bear flavors! I simply can not believe this.



Well no, no you did NOT mention polar bear cubs, but at this point you're just showing off. My entire existence will be meaningless if I do not find this magical place.












I think I'm going to drive off this cliff now.

I hope you too can do wonderful things with billboards. Good luck!

Earn a nickname.

It's hard (pun intended) to make a blog entry on nicknames without bringing up (pun intended) "Boner" from TV's Growing Pains (no pun intended).
You watch your favorite TV shows and movies, and sure enough, at least one character has a nickname that everyone calls him/her instead of his/her legal name. Coincidentally, you've grown bored with your name. DING! It clicks in your head that YOU should have a nickname too!

But what should it be? And more importantly, how can you convince people to refer to you as such? Sure you could just tell your friends, "Hey, can you start calling me 'White Lightning' from now on?" I've got news for you: they're not going to start calling you "White Lightning." And for good reason. Not only is that a ridiculous nickname, but it's one you gave yourself. That's just bad business. Nicknames need to originate from the mouth of someone other than yourself. Nicknames need to be EARNED.

So how do you earn a nickname? Well, more often than not, it comes from a behavioral pattern or sustained trait. Are you always short? Wear a lot of blue clothing? Don't look now, but you're at risk of earning "Smurf" or "Smurfette" as a nickname. Do you have pointy head? You might be called "Conehead" or "Coney" for short. Maybe you drink out of the toilet a lot? Then I shall call you John.

Here are some examples of nicknames you may desire, and ways to earn them.

1. Chief: Start wearing THIS JACKET everywhere you go, and I can almost guarantee you'll earn Chief within the first 30 days.

2. Dingo: This one's challenging. Short of having a pet dingo, it could be tough. My suggestion would be to order "the dingo" whenever you're at a bar (or make your own, see video) and be sure to announce to everyone, "Hey look at me, I'm having me a dingo again! Gotta love that dingo!!!" Slide the word "dingo" into conversation subliminally, like whenever you would normally say "Bingo" or "where did Dean go?" If all else fails, just get the pet dingo...I looked them up, and while they're not completely domesticated, they apparently can be rather good pets if properly trained from puppyhood.

3. Pow: I honestly doubt you'd want this nickname, but if you did, I'd suggest saying "POW" a lot in everyday conversation. I really just wanted an excuse to play this video:

Learn-A-Skill Friday!

Friday is the day that most of the world celebrates two days of upcoming vacation from the money-grubbing prisons that hold them hostage for the other 5 days a week. It's also the day when office workers notoriously work the least, especially toward the end of the day. Why not put your time to good use and learn a skill? Or at least watch some videos that will give you the inspiration needed to learn a skill on your own time.

Or NEVER EVER EVER try to learn these particular skills on your own after watching these. Sometimes I like to inspire you not to break your collarbone. You're welcome.

1. Don't learn a back-flip. And when you try and try and still haven't mastered it, don't get cocky and push aside the protective mat that separates your fragile bones from the unforgiving floor. Also, you're not Jackie Chan and you can't run up a wall and do a back-flip off that either. Don't try to learn that skill today.


2. Don't show off at a bowling alley. There are plenty of ways to knock down ten pins. You probably don't need to tear a bunch of your tendons with a giant backswing. And what the heck, you also probably don't need to pretend you're holding a demolition ball and take a chunk out of the ceiling. But hey, maybe that's a hit with the ladies.


3. DON'T SHOW OFF AT A FUCKING BOWLING ALLEY! I just friggin told you that. Don't learn how to juggle in the first place, but if you're going to, don't do it at a with objects that could end the life of a small child. Get ready to gasp.


4. Ok I think we're good with the...FUCK, will you cut it off with the goddamn bowling alley?! But this montage features the absolute best high-five mishap I've ever seen, so that makes me feel a tad bit better.


5. If you're going to play golf, don't get a mental block against hitting a golf ball. Especially if you're one of the world's more recognizable athletes. Poor Chuck.


6. Actually, don't play miniature golf either. And don't ride bikes.


Damn it, just don't learn any skills this weekend.

Reminisce with the shitty music you listened to in your youth.

This whole blog started as a rather ridiculous "things to do when you're bored" blog, and I'll be honest - I've led you all astray many times. Today, however, I'm going to lead by example with a rather practical use of your time. It's a memory exercise regarding all the music that led you into the person you are today. Seriously, be honest with yourself. It might sting a bit. I can guide you on some key steps in my personal musical journey, and hopefully I'll embarrass myself enough that you'll feel comfortable doing it to yourself.

1. Neil Diamond

I'm actually quite proud that my first memory of music, circa age 3 or 4, is of Neil Diamond's Hot August Night album. Specifically, I recall banging on a Fisher Price drum to "Cherry, Cherry." Listen and tell me that's not at least slightly cooler than growing up to a fucking purple dinosaur.
Click Here to listen to the whole damn album on Myspace, surprisingly enough.


1b. Teddy Ruxpin - I listened to a shitload of Teddy Ruxpin cassettes. Fine, I'm no better than the purple dinosaur reference. Guilty.


2. Restless Heart

I grew up in a country music household, and I rebelled by getting albums from Restless Heart around age 6. These dudes are fairly cheesy "country" pop. Twenty-one years later, I'm seeing the music video for one of their songs for the very first time. Awesomely cornball.


3. Debbie Gibson

What the fuck? I listened to Debbie Gibson! I had completely blocked this one out of my mind until randomly flipping through Vh1 last weekend and seeing Debbie talking about some other 80s artist. It all came rushing back to me, and I remembered that I had one (AND ONLY ONE) Debbie Gibson song...on a cassette SINGLE. It was this song...fucking embarrassing. But slightly better with comedians making fun of it.


4. Garth Brooks

Hopping right back into the "bad boys" of country music phase, I became a huge fan of the man who sang the least number of songs about pickup trucks, yet the highest number of songs referencing rodeos. Go figure. But for its time, when this song came out it certainly was a far cry from the rest of the country music genre I had to choose from. In fact, I'll actually blame Garth for the pop-music industry that "country" is today. By the way, I think my favorite part of this video is where Garth and his poor band is playing out in the middle of a thunderstorm (mics and amps LOVE rain water, in case you were wondering), and then magically at the end of the video, presumably in the same thunderstorm he just was playing music in, Garth shows up with a fresh change of clothes and a different cowboy hat. Shazaam!

garth brooks "the thunder rolls" @ Yahoo! Video


5. Counting Crows

"Mr. Jones" and "Rain King" altered my musical path greatly when I first heard them in 5th grade.


6. Boyz II Men

Why on Earth did they spell their name like that? Why did the dude with the deep voice always have to talk during songs? Who fucking cares? They gave us "End of the Road" and "I'll Make Love To You" and "Water Runs Dry" and...every other song you slow danced to for the better part of the decade. Unfortunately, the bastards at Universal disabled embedding their videos, so you're on your own to look them up.

...AND then I got into middle school and high school and all hell broke loose. I jacked friends' CDs and recorded them onto cassettes. Then I stumbled upon the internet. End of story.

Get addicted to drugs.

Just kidding, don't get addicted to drugs. It's just a bad road, man. But don't take my word for it. Check out these cats. Seriously, fucking check out these cats!



INSANE! The way those kitties are affected just by the smell of the damn plants makes me think maybe there is something to the whole aromatic aphrodisiac idea. Is there going to be catnip in my pocket on my next date? Maybe...

Having watched the video twice now, and seen many-a-feline reminiscent to the several my family had back in my early years, I decided to create a fictitious conversation between the cats, giving them the names of some of my aforementioned house/yard pets. You might want to open the video in a new window and read along with the sound turned off.

Scamper: "This camera intrigues me...no, wait... now I'm bored with it. Let me just mosey on over to those weird broken fountains and where the fuck did all these other cats come from!"

All: "HEYYYY Scamper, what's going on!"

Scamper: "Uh...nothing...why are you all here?"

(Jaguar-looking cat named Bo walks in stealthily)
Bo: "Sup dipshits...why am I subconsciously drawn to this area even though all you losers are already here?"

Oscar: (sniffs flowers) "This is gonna be a good trip, mannnn!"

Sam: (walks down pillar) "Wait...why did I walk down here again?"

Katzy: (on top of ledge) "I'm FREAKING OUT!!!"

Charlie: "I loooooove this camera...but I am le tired."

Blue: "I don't see what everyone is getting out of this flower...woah, it's kicking in now...YUCK YUCK YUCKIE."

Fluffy: "I wish this plant could rub me in my special place."

Unkempt, homeless cat: "I am sooooo fucked up right now."

All: "When does the orgy start?"

Samantha: "I'm definitely not high enough for an orgy with these ugly dudes."

My (yes, I had a cat named My): (bitch-slaps Sam) "What did I tell you about touching my stash?"

Various cats: "Oh it's on now...I'm gonna slap this cat" and "Now I'm gonna jump after this cat" and "WHEEEEEE!!!!"

Baby: "Nobody puts me in the corner! But my mouth is inexplicably foaming. I should probably stay over here in the corner for a while longer. I think I'm going to be sick. Yep. I'm sick. Where's the goddamn Tylenol?"

Sam: "I got ants in my pants and I need to dance!!!"

Various cats: "My fur feels funny" and "I'm floating" and "I see Jesus and he looks like one of the Thundercats!"


Thankfully, the video shut off before the orgy scene, which resulted in Bob Barker having a nervous breakdown due to all the unwanted cat pregnancies. But don't worry, Bob recovered to a life of pumping young men. BONUS VIDEO FUN!!! Enjoy.

Find a Disney-character-named person.

No, no...I said has a Disney-character NAME. Not just a dude who looks like an idiot.
Objective: In a public place, find someone with the same name as a Disney afternoon cartoon character.

If you're like me, you grew up with Disney cartoons after school. If you're a little older, your line-up may have included Gummi Bears, DuckTales, Chip 'n Dale Rescue Rangers, and TaleSpin. If you're slightly younger, your afternoon might have held Darkwing Duck, Goof Troop, and some weird little fucker named Bonkers. Or maybe you flipped the station and watched Tiny Toon Adventures and Animaniacs instead, but we're just sticking to the Disney lineup for this post, so shut up with your Pinky & the Brain references. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to go to a large store and find someone who has the same name as one of these characters.

Now you may be wondering what the best method for doing this would be. While anything you think up is perfectly acceptable, my idea consists of dressing up like you're running some sort of promotional contest, whether that be in Disney shirt and hat or some third-party company. Make an announcement that the first person who can prove that their name is Launchpad McQuack wins a prize. Now obviously, you'll have to be standing there for quite a while before someone stops by with the legal name of Launchpad McQuack. So I've devised a list of character names within the following categories (best guess of animal type in parentheses) that you can use depending on which difficulty level you desire:

Quite common, boring names that aren't anything to call home about:
Chip (chipmunk), Dale (squirrel), Rebecca (bear), Molly (bear), Louie (duck), Max (Goofy's son...some type of dog maybe?)

Some more challenging names:
Dewey (duck), Huey (duck), Drake (duck, specifically a mallard)

The names that will be more fun to scream out inside of a store:
Baloo (bear), Gusto (bear, gummi), Bonkers (bobcat), Monterey Jack (Australian mouse) Fat Cat (a fat cat), Honker Muddlefoot (duck). Yes, Wikipedia aided me greatly for this blog entry.

So what happens when you actually find someone with one of these names? Well in my plan, you're doing this inside of Wal-Mart, so you give them a prize. Maybe just hand them a bag of peanuts or something off one of the shelves. I'm not exactly sure who gets credit for shoplifting if they eat the bag of peanuts thinking they were already paid for. If I've got any lawyers reading the blog, please leave the answer to this in the comments section so we all can benefit from your ridiculously-expensive-hourly-waged knowledge.

Now take a nostalgia break with some theme songs, which is really the basis for why I decided to write this blog anyway. I had the gosh darn DuckTales song stuck in my head.

Heavily promote something.

When you're a celebrity, you get paid money just to use a product. You get the product for FREE, then you get extra money to use it. I'm no celebrity, but I'd like to be included in this deal, please. I've thought long and hard about this, and the one thing in life that I may never get tired of...the ONE single thing that I'd want to promote for as long as I live if it scored me free product is...drumroll please...

Jamba Juice! No, I need to use all caps for that. JAMBA JUICE! M-F-ing JAMBA JUICE (bolded and italicized for emphasis). Kind folks at Jamba Juice, please hook me up with free smoothies. What more do I need to do to prove my love for you? How about this referral? Attention readers of my blog: If you happen to live in North Austin, stop by the Arboretum Jamba location and ask for the Chuck Norris Roundhouse Kick. Yes, that's right, I love Jamba so much that I've got my own flavor (note: I didn't actually name it, I just got tired of giving the ingredient instructions so one night a dude there suggested the name, and I approved...it's written in a little spiral notebook behind the counter). The Chuck Norris consists of strawberries, blueberries, peaches, pomegranate juice, orange juice and lemon juice. It tastes like you're getting kicked in the mouth with a foot made out of SweetTarts. It's been known to cure the common cold. I currently don't have cancer, so I'm fairly certain it has prevented that as well.

Upper management of Jamba Juice, I beg of you: please let me know what I, your humble servant, can do to help promote your stores and your delicious, delicious smoothies, and in return receive a lifetime supply of free delicious (did I mention delicious?) smoothies. Want me to wear a Jamba tshirt? Maybe an embroidered beanie? Drop me a line and I'll be happy to make arrangements to be a walking billboard. I've already taken it upon myself to produce these images in honor of your company.

I'm sorry, dear. My heart is already committed to my one true love. I'm not sure how gravity isn't spilling orange smoothie all over my face right now. Also of note, you wearing white is laughable.


Chasing Jamba off a cliff and into the mouth of a hungry shark...maybe a bit much. But I bet if that dude shares his Jamba with the shark, his life will be spared. Why? Cause sharks think Jamba is tastier than HUMAN FLESH!!!! I concur.


Hey there, adorable little kitten! Look at you, jumping up in the air like a person would. You're just tooooooo cute. So very cute. But listen up...stay the fuck away from my Jamba.

But everyone else...do NOT stay the fuck away from Jamba Juice. Find a location nearest you, and try one of their many delicious flavors, including Blackberry Bliss for a limited time only!

Can I have some free smoothies now?

Make some signs.

I've got some vacation time coming up, so although this is going to be my last blog entry for the week (somber news to maybe 3 people), I wanted to provide a motivational parting shot. So here goes. YOU CAN MAKE A DIFFERENCE! WITH SIGNS!

Or maybe you can't, what do I know? But go make some signs anyway, and prance around with them like these fine folks.

They were protesting against California Proposition 13, which was also known as the "People's Initiative to Limit Property Taxation." Unfortunately, most Hulk Hogan fans are partially illiterate, and these people thought Prop 13 had something to do with forcing Hulkamania to shave off his handlebars. Prop 13 took place in 1978, but this gentleman wanted to grow handlebars of his own and have them turn white before he voiced his concern.


Honestly really is the best policy, so rather than having to guess "Where's that cheese smell coming from...and is that dude wearing a shower curtain?", this Dead-head has decided to remove most of your curiosity via the oversized written word.


The real joke is that about 40 yards to the right of this picture, there is a cross-walk. And it's one of those really, really pedestrian-friendly cross-walks that let 4 cars go through and then a mob of people get to walk for about a full 2 minutes.


To complete the oddball trio, the old lady who took this picture was holding a sign that said, "Frosted Flakes are GRRRREAT!"


She couldn't bring herself to verbalize what everyone at the office was feeling, but she too knew she was doing a really shitty job at work.

Create your own Olympic sport.

I'm not sure when they take place, but I think I found the logo for the Bondage Olympics.The years of intense training. The hours of endless driving to and from practice. The lifetime of jumping on hotel beds. Because yes...that's become an Olympic sport. Trampoline jumping can get you a medal in the Olympics. It probably won't get you a hefty endorsement contract from Nike, but maybe you can melt down the gold medal and sell it, assuming it's made out of actual gold, which I'm not entirely sure of.

If some backyard junkies can get trampoline jumping added to the roster, it seems to me that you can probably work your way to making just about anything an Olympic sport if you get enough people participating in it. The Winter Olympics' Biathlon is simply a bunch of people skiing, then stopping every once in a while to shoot a rifle. If that sounds lame, it should. But it should also open up some doors for you. You can COMBINE sports to make a new sport!

As usual, I offer up my own ideas as inspiration for your own.

• 400-meter Texting. All athletes get into their starting blocks with their choice of text-enabled cell phone. They are all given the message that they need to type and send to the judges before they complete one lap. The first person who cross the finish line wins, provided they did not make any errors in the message. No penalties, however, will be given to particpants running out of their designated lanes, as this will likely occur, leading to collisions and downright hilarity. This can be the comic relief portion of the otherwise dramatic final week in the Summer Olympics.
• Downhill Sumo. Basically, this would simply be a bunch of 300+ lb dudes running down a hill, tripping, and rolling the rest of the way down the hill.
• 100-meter Leapfrog. This one's super-simple: 2 people playing leapfrog as quickly as possible, racing against other pairs. Honestly...how is this NOT already an Olympic sport? We have 2-person events like fucking synchronized DIVING, but we don't have leapfrog?
• Food drop and catch (I don't have a good name for this yet). You grab a cheeseball and throw it as high as possible into the air. The person who throws it the highest AND can still catch it in their mouth will be standing on the podium at the end of the day. Medics are on hand ready to perform the Heimlich maneuver. Stray dogs are on hand to eat anything that falls to the ground.

Right about here I was going to make a joke about how the hip-hop community has given new meaning to the current Olympic event "skeet shooting", but I think I'll take the high road and not discuss it any further. It would have been a load of fun though. Get it? Ok, seriously I'm done.

Name your own band, poorly.

"Matchbox 1 thru 19 is going to be PISSED."
"You there, with the relatively solid band. That sound you're playing...you know, it's got a little something to it. I'm actually alright with it. I'm still in the room listening to it, so that's a good sign. Usually I'd just leave, you know, I'd just stand up and leave. Maybe even give you the middle gun salute. But no...you're alright. What do you fellas call yourself?"

"Red Plus Blue Equals Me Plus You."

"Ffffffuck you're dumb. I'm outta here."

Band names are not just something you use for people to properly identify you. They're a brand name, a status symbol, and something that can make or break your musical success. I don't care how great your Christian rock band is, if you call yourself The Abortions, you're probably doomed. If your music isn't made for teens, don't name your band something 17 words long that references to an obscure Family Guy quote (although I can't dispute that "Daddy loves ya, but Daddy also loves Star Trek, and in all fairness, Star Trek was here first" wouldn't be a band name I'd root for).

So for today, I'd like anyone with or without a band to consider coming up with a band name. You never know when it's going to come in handy. If you need some pointers, here are forumlas I've devised for coming up with a band name.

1. Think of a place. And...you're done. There's your band name. Chicago, Boston, Kansas, Alabama, Asia, Europe, America all did this. But why stop at geographical locations? How about just wherever the heck you are at this very moment. Airport, Public Library, Best Buy Display Model PC, Dining Room, Wifi Hotspot, Amature Hot Dog Eating Championship. All solid band names, depending very much on how you definine "solid."
2. The _______. Fill in the blank. And...you're done. Seriously, any word(s). The Boobs. The Culinary Institute. The Target Clearance Rack. The Omega-3 Fatty Acids.
3. _____-ing ______(s). Fill in the blanks. And...you're done. Stopping Tamales. Burning Spandex. Lighting Crabcakes.
4. Anything that pops into head. Literally anything: Formula One A-Holes. Taco Strippers. Robot Armpits. The Beached Whale Sympohony. Billy Jean WAS My Lover. Straight Arms To Punch You. The Prickly Ticklefighters. Bombs-n-Sharks. Little Boy Blue Ate Glue. The Thieving Little Hooligans on 51st Street That Stole My Bicycle. Bollywollypollymolly. The $1.99 Chicken Fajitas. Benja Was A Good Dog. Jewel Case Shatterers. Dudeyousuck. Abolitionist Diaper Change. Boxcar STDs. Upsidedown Penguin. Barnyard Arrtard. Why Is My Toothbrush Brown? The Incredible Alex and His Fine Feathered Friends. Microphone Better Not Fuck Up Tonight. Linus' Blanket Surprise. Cheetah Outrunners. Stress-Related Party-Poopers. Nineteen Shades of Garbage Cans. Harry Loves Your Richard. Times Are Subject to KICK ASS. Lime Is Tired Of Losing To Lemon. The Beautiful Blue Bowties. Wunderbears In Germany.

Ok, I think my work is done here.

Immortalize your favorite celebrities, poorly.

I was unaware someone could make Bob Barker look even older than he is...but consider me aware now.So you're thinking about making a life-altering decision and jamming some inked-up needles into your body, eh? Well before you make that plunge, hop online and pick out some temporary tattoo paper for a standard ink-jet printer. You can get a taste for what the tattoo will look like when the real deal has bloodied up your now-toned but soon-to-be-flabby bicep. And since, by some crazy scheme to turn a profit, the paper comes in packages containing more than just one sheet of the stuff, you're going to have enough paper for several experimental tattoos, all of which can and should be used for very ridiculous purposes.

I figured I'd take a moment to scour the net for my favorite of the ridiculous, no-foresight-whatsoever tattoos: the celebrity headshot. Unless the celebrity is a blood relative of yours, there's a good chance he/she will embark on a terrible downward spiral in his/her career, likely inflicting shame on all of those who decided their lives wouldn't be complete unless they captured the iconic image of some complete stranger they worshiped for a couple years during college.

Here are my picks of the litter (and you can decide if I'm using the term "litter" as in a group of newborn puppies or garbage on the side of the road):

Once the boss, always the boss, although personally I would have gotten the picture of him sliding into home plate like in the opening credits.

Yes, that's Tay Zonday. Anybody? Anybody? The "Chocolate Rain" guy. Yeah. I know.


"Alex, I'll take 'Scott Baio as a black guy' for $400 please."


Oh, sure it SAYS 'Clay Aiken', but we all know it's just a hybrid image of Clay, Thom Yorke, Dana Carvey and that weird artsy kid on 'Wedding Crashers.'

I'm actually a little jealous of this one.


Interesting placement...I have a feeling that on any given night, Willy Wonka appears to be giving this dude a BJ.

Baconize everything.

"Sorry Kevin...you look delicious, but we're still going to give the part to someone who can...well...act better than you."The most delicious of the salty meats in the world (if you feel like calling a slab of mostly fat "meat"), is hands down, shut-the-fudge-up-if-you-say-anything-else, no contest, BACON. And little to my knowledge, there is a term already in existence to describe the action of covering other foods in bacon to make them taste better. It is "baconize." You know how I learned this? I Googled the word "baconize," follishly thinking I was being original. Urban Dictionary already has it registered as:

1. baconize
   (v.) To add bacon to anything, such as a Snickers, therefore making it delicious.
   Sure, this is good pie, but lets BACONIZE it!
2. baconize
   (verb) any of many industrial methods for infusing a substance with bacon
   I baconized the mayonnaise for a rich, smoky flavor.
3. Baconize
   The act of owning someone or something using large amounts of heat, fire, grease, or all of the above.
   I fell onto the stove, got totally baconized.

I'm not sure about #3, which sounds more like the definition for "disfigurement" than "baconization", but it appears suggest that the next time one of my friends slaps their forehead down on a grill and severely burns part of their face off, I'll should be sure to exclaim "Woah dude, you totally got baconized!" That seems like the appropriate comment, what with all the heat, fire, grease and blood everywhere. Thanks for that one, Urban Dictionary.

Back to the true topic at hand, UD.com's #1 and #2 definitions hit the target much more precisely. Take an otherwise unedible item like a...Snickers (wtf?) and wrap that in bacon. Boomtown. You've got a delicious treat. Take long strips of bacon and wrap them over, around and through a Krispy Kreme Original. Sweet Georgia Brown! Now you're talking! Milkshake not cutting it? Throw some bacon in the blender, and you've got 2 parts cow, 1 part pig, and 14 parts of fanfuckingtastic! I call it the shake-n-bacon.

But why stop there? Having trouble with the ladies? Put some bacon in your briefs. Yes I'm happy to see you, and yes there is a stash of bacon located somewhere on me. I dare you to discover what I wrapped it around.

Are you going to a petting zoo? Make all the poor little kids jealous of you.

Sad 6-year-old: "Mommy, why won't the animals come to me? Why are they ALL sniffing around on that creepy guy with greasy hands?"

Irritated mother: "Well sweetie, that man appears to have mass quantities of bacon stuffed in every last one of his pockets, probably because his parents didn't raise him properly."

YOU COULD BE THAT IMPROPERLY RAISED CHILD! Just baconize everything.

Walk a rodent. Or don't.

I think he's picked up the scent...'bout to bust a big drug ring...oh, nevermind, he's eating poop.Yes, go ahead and walk a rodent. Or a pet raccoon. Maybe an aardvark? Any animal that isn't supposed to be walked, you should walk. So don't walk a dog. That's what they'd EXPECT you to walk. Oh what about a cat? Most people don't walk cats. Yeah, but most people don't lick themselves until they puke up their own hair. You know who does? Cats. Don't walk cats, don't walk dogs, don't walk iguanas. They'll lick your ankle, it will tickle, and you'll probably trip and fall, smushing your pet iguana to death. Sure it was his fault, but that's just a tragic way to go, and you don't want it on your conscience. Maybe a deer? Oh hells no! Don't walk a deer. Deer try to kill cute defenseless puppies. Seriously. Fuck deer.



Crazy video right? Poor little puppy, out exploring the world, almost gets hoof-scootin' boogied to death. So let's see...don't walk dogs, cats, iguanas, deer...actually don't walk rodents either because obviously that's been done, and judging by the picture above, that little guy was about to freak the fuck out after discovering he was no longer running on a wheel. Don't walk a bunny, cause by the time you get home that sex-crazed little monster will probably have 25 illegitimate children running around the neighborhood. You know what, fuck it. Just walk a dog. This dog:

Life really is simple when you have an armor-plated puppy in your life. Just walk him and enjoy yourself. Cheers, tiny warrior.

Text a fat guy.

Coldplay's motivation for their first big hit, "Yellow."
Today, having completed 4 full weeks of "things to do" blogs, I realize that I'm exhausting the topic to its extreme. I panicked, wondering what to talk about. Then I saw this picture. So many questions immediately flooded my thought-box. First of all, where the fuck are these people? Is this the social event of the season at a shitty country club, complete with fake grass and an enormous green trash bin at every table just in case the KFC and boxed wine don't go down so smoothly? Did the dress code portion of the invitation say "casual and/or yellow", with additional information including "please bring the oldest piece of luggage you can find?" I'd love to be the guy that doesn't resort to poking fun of a fat guy and his poorly performing pants, but I'm not that guy. Plus, I'm unable to believe that this fellow is unaware of his pants situation. If there is a breeze, he'll feel it. If there's anyone behind him (obviously there was someone with a camera), he'll hear them snickering. If his gut isn't blocking the view of his left leg 100%, he'll notice his pants ripping to their very limits. But above all of this, I think I'm most curious about the cell phone texting situation going on. I think there are several valid choices for conversations that could be occurring. Here's one of them.

Guy: Hey, Ma, it's me.
Mom: How is the party, Lenny?
Guy: Not so great. Remember how I thought spandex was a good idea? Well it's not. Apparently stretchy pants can only stretch so far.
Mom: Is your ass hanging out again?
Guy: Full moon.
Mom: How about the all-yellow suit, complete with matching baggy hat? Was it a big hit?
Guy: 3 people have already asked me if I drive a taxi.
Mom: Well that's no good. Has anyone tried to steal your briefcase this time?
Guy: No, I haven't left it for a second. But it's a lot more difficult to mingle at the party knowing that all my money is left on a table. I'm starting to re-think my plan of converting all my currency to bars of gold and never open a bank account.
Mom: It probably is time to open that account, Lenny. Did you at least remember to shave before you left?
Guy: I knew I was forgetting something! Now all those comments referring to me as lumberjack, fat ZZ Top, and Bill Walton make more sense!
Mom: LOL
Guy: Shut up, Mom!
Mom: Sorry. Try to have a good time, dear. And whatever you do, make sure that there isn't someone behind you with a camera. I'd hate to see your fat ass on the internet tomorrow.
Guy: Awww....FUCK!

Birthday free shit.

You know what, kid? It's your birthday. Go ahead and stare.
Do you have an email address? Do you have a birthday? Well guess what, bucko, you could be scoring free shit on your birthday! Not until recently did I realize how much free or semi-free stuff I could obtain on my birthday just for signing up my designated junk email address on company mailing lists. Baskin Robbins, Cold Stone Creamery and Dairy Queen are all hooking me up with ice cream. Red Robin and Ryan's are hooking me up with food (though seeing the documentary Food, Inc. has made me much less excited about these deals). Heck, even Smoothie King is offering me a free smoothie full of protein and pec-juicing 'roids or whatever they hell they use in their blenders. Everyone's been really nice and generous with their coupons. But somehow, I get the impression that Starbucks really doesn't give a shit about my birthday:

Have a happy birthday, fellow July 3rd-ians. And stay the fuck away from Starbucks.

Name your crayons.

What sort of unholy macaroni and/or cheese turns the color of a terror alert?
Yep, with your spare time, you can name your crayons. Read some of the craptacular names out there right now; then you can start making up your own in hopes that the ad wizards at Crayola might take favorably to your suggestions. Somewhat like I just did...

One-man dance revolution.

Watch this.


Ok seriously, did you watch it? Make sure you watched it up until at least the 1:15 mark, when all hell breaks loose. For the life of me, I can't comprehend how that snowballed. I mean, I know people are sheep and will follow what other people are doing blindly...but was the one man dancing giving out samples of whatever amazingly powerful dance-drug he was on? Is that what caused the bum-rush?

I think this is the most motivational non-Tony Robbins ("Banana Hands" from Shallow Hal) video ever made. It clearly shows the power of one. One man can climb a mountain. One man can blow up that mountain with the right explosives. One man can do a lot of good and bad shit with his time. I'd like to quickly point out that I'm not sexist, it's just easier to use the cliche "man" than be politically correct all of the time. In fact, ladies are even more powerful to be honest. It took over a full minute to get more than one person to dance with senor squirmy-pants in that video! If that was a scantily clad female, I'm calling 15 seconds max.

Regardless of gender, use your power of one, make a difference in the world, and dance your fucking dance all over the side of your metaphorical grassy hill until the whole place is jumping like House Party, or possibly House Party 2.

And see this movie: Food, Inc.