MERRY CHRISTMAS AND PLEASE DO MY LAUNDRY

LAST MINUTE GIFT IDEAS

Yeah right! You should be done by now. Why should I help you? The whole point of a gift is to thoughtfully acknowledge one's existence by providing them with a material item or experience relevant to their interests, hopes or dreams. I shouldn't have even had to explain that clearly you idiot. Since you've once again neglected to come up with ideas yourself I'm instead going to help the people who have to deal with your bullshit year in and year out. When faced with an asshole looking for tips, retort with one of more of the following:

"Who doesn't love nutrients?"

"Give them the gift of life"

"Last year's calendar had some really cute Wednesdays"

"Feel free to grind up parts of my Christmas tree. It will sort of look like weed, man"

"Does she like lingerie? It's easy to make your own out of J-Cloths"

"A can of soup can easily double as fake vomit"

"A single cigarette may start a love affair that will last a lifetime"

"Two words -- onions"

"Give her a new name. I thought of a good one -- Bist"

"I always go with something authentic from planet Earth"

"Sticks and stones may break my bones but gravel is all over the place and is free"

"Make some ice and pretend it's a beautiful crystal. Then get the hell out of there"

Above all, Christmas is about roast birds and shiny balls hanging from a fat, sappy tree so don't sweat the gifts too much. HA. Not true. Christmas is 90% gifts, 10% visits.

If you're currently hiding in your closet to avoid Uncle Stewart's famous penis noogies, enjoy this collection of past holiday writings courtesy of this website and the Internet Movie Database.

MEGA BIRD FIGHTS LITTLE LION

Marvell Comics Presents:

SUPERHERO PROFILE

As part of a partnership with Marvell Comics, WIDAHIA brings you the first in a series of Superhero profiles meant to increase awareness of a new roster of superheroes engineered for the fresh millennium. 

MR. ELEVATOR

Real Name - Chad Dunk
Height - 6 foot 4 and nothing more
Weight - Not bad
Hometown - The fictional town of Toilet, Manitoba
Hair Colour - Caucasian Brown
Eye Colour - Dreamboat Brown
Superhero Team - The Dunce Craps (Captain Everything wants to change it but The Improviser still thinks it's funny)
Super Power - He can fly straight up or straight down. Obviously he can't go straight down if he's standing on the ground but he did teach himself to crouch lower than most people. He also tries to have all his showdowns take place on quicksand or over a large body of water, which is why he looks like this while on duty:

 

For Christmas he wants a KitchenAid stand mixer.

Can you even imagine?

I had a villain in mind but I forgot. Let's see if we can search the memory bank and figure it out:

MEMORY BANK ACCESS

111000100010010010111001001001001110100000101010101010

....access granted

Mr. Elevator's Villlain

- Elevator goes up and down so his nemesis has to be able to combat it
- Maybe a guy who goes side to side? Dr. Horizontal? Boring?
- What's the opposite of an elevator? Escalator? No, they're cousins.People mover!

The People Mover

Not only can he fly from side to side, but he also love inspiration poetry and has a reggae band also called People Mover. Their first album? People Mover.

♫ Move my People, People I Move
Island Sound, Zion Groove
Fly left, fly right, only get high widda spliff at night ♫

Mr. Elevator tries to arrange all their battles at the airport to even the playing ground and it works fairly often. All Elevator has to do is spend a bit of cash and make People Mover believe he's won a free vacation. People Mover isn't that dumb though but he doesn't mind because the ceilings in airports are pretty low so most, if not all of their fights go like this:

- The People Mover wants to take over the world because he wants everyone to live in the tropics.
- Mr. Elevator gets wise and tricks The People Mover into arriving at the airport.
- Heading to the gate, The People Mover flaunts his mutant power by gliding alongside the actual people mover.
- He gets ambushed by Mr. Elevator and they wrestle for awhile, flying up, down, left and right.
- They declare a stalemate and decide to go on vacation together.
- They go somewhere with lots of quicksand. Another trick!
- Mr. Elevator saves the day again while beating The People Mover senseless while fighting on quicksand.

"Give me an open sky and some water or quicksand underneath my feet and I will save your planet. My planet, sorry, I'm from here too. I've never really felt at home though."
- Mr. Elevator

SHARPEN YOUR PENCILS CHILDREN, IT'S TIME TO RE-WRITE THE BIBLE

MAD, MAN

A Critical Look Into Modern Advertising

Today on Mad, Man I take issue with the latest trend in spokespeople, a trend I call the "Hyper Masculine Über-Confident Silly Magic Man".

It all started with the Old Spice guy who by using magic and nonsense, showed us that Old Spice deoderant will make girls want to rub you because you smell like "Volcano Gush". The campaign was a viral hit spawning a toy line, a cookbook as well as a half-hour children's cartoon called "Old Spicey", featuring an eponymously named storyteller telling tales of ancient noses.

"I smell like I murdered 39 Olympians for these medals, dude"

Realizing that Old Spice was eating into their profits, the Dos Equis beer company made up their own guy called "The Most Interesting Man in the World" who was a mix between the Old Spice super dude, Indiana Jones and Chuck Norris jokes from 2001. He doesn't always drink beer, but when he does he makes sure you know is puuuuure hetero. 

Since then the trend has exploded. A recent stroke-inducing incarnation is this Dairy Queen guy who just kind uses his magic to show that DQ is tasty or something. I honestly don't even know. The formula for these ads seems to be: 1) Find a guy 2) Have him perform magic 3) Say nonsense. Canadian Club whisky has this new guy called "The Chairman" who acts like Dos Equis man combined with TV's Ron Swanson and Kraft Dinner now has a Robin Hood type who makes cracks about his "orange noodle". I made the last one up because advertising is all lies.

Whatever your opinion of this trend is, you have to admit it's working a lot better than Uncle Ben's "Uncle Ben is Gay" campaign.

The Back Pages

The Human's History

I wonder if cavemen made the food - poo connection. Who were the first humans to figure it out? Poo is so different from food that I bet it took awhile. Egyptians I bet. 

Food for Thought

A "dick fart" is piss steam. 

IN THE NAME OF THE PRINCE PLEASE STOP QUACKING

Yesterday was 12/12/12, a date that apparently puts into motion some sort of apocalypse that will happen 21st. Who told us this? Those lizard-kissing chocolate masters, the Mayans. I don't believe that anything out of the ordinary will happen that day because like most civilizations that existed thousands of years ago, the Mayans were stupid compared to us. Sure, they built some great temples, invented an impressive written language complete with swears and several different words for "right on!", but that's about it. Ask a Mayan what the sun is, videotape it, and BANG you've won the grand prize on the season finale of AFV. Tom Bergeron whispers in your ear, "Don't spend all the dough on gum, save some for more permanent chewables". Then you're whisked away backstage where you're greeted by a Mr. Christie's snack tray featuring a prototype cookie called The Boogie Woogie Chew Chew Chocolate Chunk Champion - They got rice in 'em.

I happened to catch an episode of Ancient Aliens on the subject of the Mayan apocalypse and one alien discussed the significance of the location of the prophecies. I'm paraphrasing but he said something like, “Why would they write a date on a brick, put it in a cave and turn it backwards?”.

Because they were idiots. Think of how you spend the day -- you wake up, you read the news, you get on a streetcar, you buy pears, you go to work, you use a computer, you rank babies in order of potential for becoming a dentist etc. etc. Your neighbour probably does something entirely different because maybe he's a brick layer and you're just the captain of a hot air balloon team. The point is a Mayan's life was far simpler. The only things to do were cook, fight, shit, get bitten by something, stick your dick in something, write on bricks and play drums.

Another expert explained how the Mayans must have got all this information from aliens. He said "Their tablets speak of things in the sky." I know what those were -- birds, stars, the sun, the moon, dust, flower petals -- but they sure didn't.

On top of that, think of how often Mayans were poisoned either from plant life or from a jungle creature. There's still tons of scary things out there today, but imagine how many more there were back then before we started ripping apart rain forests to build smoke factories? They get poisoned so often that they probably hallucinated like crazy all the time. If Timothy Leary was on LSD and prophesied the end of the world back in the sixties, I don't think anyone would've taken him seriously and he definitely knew what the moon was.



In conclusion, the Mayan apocolypse prophecy was the result of a guy getting bit by a toad. He started hallucinating, found a brick, wrote some numbers down, saw a few birds, hid the brick, went to bed and did it all again the next day. There. End of argument. Now it's time to get excited for the release of THE HOBBIT. Here's a Tolkien-esque song in celebration:

Fantasy Party

The wind blows hard and the leafs grow green
And the Elves play songs with their tambourines

The night is cold and the stars glow white
Whoa, a dwarf and a man just got in a fight

The man is taller but the dwarf is sturdy
These books are long, the geography wordy

The dwarf gets knocked on his little bum
The man barfs bread out of his regular tum

Everyone laughs, a hobbit arrives late
A wizard piles turnips on a magic plate

What were turnips before are now something better
They are still turnips but now they're coverered in cheddar...

...cheese, sauce, across the room there's Bilbo, motherfuckers been acting like a chick without a dildo.
smoke that shire shit, wash it down with ale, Gollum's on your fuckin trail, he wants his shit back and he will attack even though he's frail and pale he's the king of bling, once a lord of the ring, gus fring, breaking bad, Walter white world's worst dad, 2012 Hobbit, Peter Jackson New Zealand STAND UP keep your guns shiny and your hoes tiny

RIGHT THERE! SEE? THE BABY HAS A FANG

My beautiful city of Toronto has faced its fair share of thumb downers over the last little while:


- All of our sports teams are bad
- Our mayor is/was a dumper
- Traffic!
- Hockey is cancelled
- We have no Premier
- There's still like, no Wendy's restaurants downtown

All this has a guy feeling like there isn't much worth goin' outside for.

But like most government approved waterslides, city life has its ups and downs and sometimes it gets peed on. Thankfully, over the past few weeks things seem to be getting slightly better. FINALLY. I can only enjoy the dinosaurs at the ROM so much before I give them little names and treat them as my cousins. In August I bought a stegosaurus a box of Pot of Gold chocolates.

If you don't live in Toronto and don't care, please proceed to Section 91 for alternative material that's geared toward a more global audience. 

Details

First, our beloved Blue Jays managed to obtain some top notch talent meaning the Rogers Centre may finally become a place we don't associate with boredom and crud. The optimist in me envisions full crowds, first places and championships while the pessimist that lives somewhere near my butt is yelling in its raspy, gassy voice, "They're all going to get hurt!". In any case, my friends and I rolled the dice and bought season tickets. I hope that means you can live in your seat because I just sold all my stuff to buy a stale-beer powered George Foreman grill, a nice sleeping bag and that thing in Waterworld that turns you pee into water-flavoured pee.

THEN the Toronto Argonauts won the 100th Grey Cup. In celebration I drank of cup of Earl Grey and cooked a football stuffed with trout for dinner. The football is to represent football and the trout is something an actual Argonaut might like to eat on his birthday.

THEN our mayor got removed from office.The big guy messed up and everyone I know is happy. What's next for the man Toronto Life described as "Mayor Marshmallow Man"? Oh probably a nice bath, a Hardy Boys adventure and a chocolate cigar.

THEN a monkey in a coat was spotted in a local IKEA, giving us some much needed Internet cred, while cementing our reputation as a multicultural mecca.

What's next a Costco in the Portlands?

SECTION 91

What's up with winter? I mean, I have headphones but I want to wear earmuffs. Are headphones earmuffs? And scarfs? More like big handkerchiefs. You're going to give a guy the snot neck from Christmas' sake. And Christmas? What a great time to be rich, you know! Remember that John Lennon song, "It's Tough Bein' Poor on Christmas"? No, you don't because Prince Charles banned it. Truth is the currency of the world and unfortunately most truth is stuffed in the oversized wallets of the elite. If you live in a region where winter is that time of year when you harvest pineapple, proceed to Section Y.


SECTION Y

Blog Photoshop School Special

Welcome to Photoshop school where I teach you the art of using a computer to complete tasks that were once limited to stuck-up, talented, hands-on artists.Your first project is to re-create one of the most classic Photoshop gags of all time -- putting your own ugly face on the cover of People's "Sexiest Man Alive" issue. Just do this:

DUCK DUCK WOOOOF

I was perusing my blog stats today and I noticed that the number of posts per year have declined significantly since my heyday back in 2009. There are several reasons for this but the biggest is probably the fact that  this millionaire threatened to fill my house with snakes if I didn't satisfy his cravings for top notch Internet entertainment. In 2010 he was killed by a janitor who was being forced by the millionaire to spray paint pro-steak graffiti all over Chicago. Remember that? It started a brief war between tofu lobbyists and the Beef Brigade that culminated in a historic peace meal at Wrigley Field. If you subscribe to National Geographic you'll know all the details, but basically there was a hot table set up at each base and an umpire brandishing a 2x4 to make sure everyone got along.

Anyway, I noticed that last year I wrote a total of 50 posts. Not bad. That works out to around 25 posts a month, per day. This year I'm sitting at a lean 44 with but 20 moons left. My goal is to beat that total just in case a potential employer comes around and notices that my style  is to peak early then steadily decline. Guess I'd guess I'd have no problem getting hired at Hewlett-Packard!

I could just stop here and allow the above to count as post 45 but that would be cheating and people who cheat end up in embarrassing themselves at belching contests because who would cheat at a belching contest? Ahaha, joking, I did. You know how? No, beans are legal. I wore a big coat and filled it with beavers.

glennslist.org


Alligator Shoes?

Date: 2012-12-11, 12:10PM EST

I'm seeking footage of a man or woman wearing regular-sized alligators as shoes. Picture this - one gator on each foot and some sort of rein system. I bet you a hundred dollies that Julius Caesar tried this at least once.

Was it James Bond or Indiana Jones who rides an alligator down a snowy hill like it were a common sled?

• Location: Toronto
• it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
• it IS ok to contact this poster with grocery store recommendations especially any new dairy type shit

How do u throw out soup?

Date: 2012-12-11, 12:00PM EST

I was home alone this past weekend and I found myself hungry for soup. I had one of those large cans of Habitant on hand and even though it would be too much for one man to eat, I made it anyway. Obviously I didn't finish the whole thing but when it came time to dispose of it I didn't know what to do.

Do you just throw the whole thing out in the garbage? I don't like this option because I like my garbage to remain dry. Moisture and garbage go together like water and mogwais, know what I mean?

Do you throw the whole thing down the drain? A minestrone is a hearty soup filled with beans and pasta. I don't like the idea of a sink clog due to soup.

Do you first strain the liquid into the sink then throw out the chunks? I think this is the correct answer, but if it is then how come you never see them do it in movies?

• Location: Toronto
• it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
• it IS ok to contact this poster with invitations to parties where the only stipulation is guests bring sleeping bags.

DUST FOR PRINTS BUT SAVE THE DUST WE HAVE A HAUNTED HOUSE TO DRESS

MOVIE REVIEW -- JAMES BOND'S SKYFALL

James Bond Part 23 was a really fun movie with everything you like about the popular British sex machine. He shoots guns, drives vehicles really well, never seems to eat and bonks every attractive female he comes across. The villain was also great, this time portrayed by Javier Bardem, one of Hollywood's scariest Spaniards. There's this one part where he takes out his fake teeth because his real teeth are all messed up and it was very gross! You don't want your villains to be pretty, trust me. Just ask James Cameron if he regrets casting Billy Zane as the evil boatman in Titanic. He'd tell you, "Yes, I wish I had've hired this waiter at Denny's that I know of. Never have a seen a wartier neck."

This time around our main man Bond has to stop Bardem from killing his boss, M, played by Judi Dench who is so old she remembers a time when humans could eat rocks no problem. Kidding, she looks great for 160. Kidding, for real, kidding. There isn't that much more to say other than that. Sam Mendes did a great job telling everyone where to stand and how to walk and Adele wrote a cool song called "Skyfall", which is the perfect title for a movie called "Skyfall". 

Let's just cut the chase here -- James Bond's penis. There's one scene in Skyfall where our hero sneaks into a babe's shower and instantly bangs her even though they'd only had one conversation prior. Here's what I want to know -- did he give himself a boner well before he stepped into the shower or did he wait until the last second, inflating the balloon just before the ordeal was officially deemed "sex". He knows what women want and I don't so I can't say for sure. I'm willing to bet he waited. But he is a famous killing machine so there's a good "shot" he went "in" to the shower "fully loaded". 

With this latest incarnation of James Bond played by Daniel Craig, they've played around with all the classic James Bond characters and gadgets and stuff, but they still haven't addressed his penis. Here's how the next movie should go:

- We open as James Bond chases a man on a camel up the walls of the Great Pyramind of Giza. 

- As Bond reaches the apex of the pyramid, he looks down the other side and the culprit has disappared.

- He slides down the pyramid but when he reaches the bottom he falls through a secret passage. 

- A big snake bites off part of his dick but he still manages to shoot the man and retrieve the big crown  he was chasin'.

- Back at MI6 M tells Bond he needs a vacation. They both decide that Utah would be nice. 

- When he gets to Utah he goes to grab a burger and immediately wants to bang the cashier.

- He meets her in the bathroom, they start kissing but Bond remembers he only has half a dick.

- He rides his motorcycle into the desert.

- After eating cacti and snorting snake venom for a week straight, Bond is found passed out by a hippie who drags him into his igloo made of mud. 

- He helps Bond get over his addictions and Bond finally opens up and discusses his lost dick. 

- The hippie says he has lots of old dicks he's collected over the years and that Bond can have one. 

- He picks one that used to belong to a drag racer named Piston. 

- Bond begins his training again and re-learns how to use his dick like a pro -- Boner control, odd tricks, puppetry, and regular peeing.

- Bond heads back to England, bangs 200 girls in 48 hours then heads to a match between Chelsea and Tottenham. 

- A villain interupts the game and says he'll blow up the whole city unless someone willingly gives up their own dick. 

- Bond gives up his new dick because he can just go back to Utah and get a new one. 

JAMES BOND 007 in White Eclipse

STUCK IN THE MIDDLE OF A FIGHT BETWEEN A CANDLE MAKER AND A HACKER

If we were to take the world's money and re-distribute it, would we all make a decent wage? Imagine we hit the reset button and it turned out everyone ends up making like six figures a year and Bobby McFerrin becomes the new Haile Selassie? I bet someone knows the exact math and how well it would work out but they're too scared to reveal it. That's a good movie idea. Guy figures this out but a coalition of millionaires chase him across the world and try to kill him before he posts it on the Internet. Every time he stops at an Internet cafe to update his popular blog it mysteriously doesn't work then he looks out the window where there's an elite team wearing black gear and sunglasses moving to take him down. He then has to run through the back of the store which is always where an Asian family is having a quiet lunch. That's the movie!
Believe it or not, that's the easy step. The hard part is going to be deciding what everyone is going to do for work afterward. I think we need to simplify. An interview will determine whether or not you'll be a(n):

- Interviewer
- Farmer
- Chef
- Store Person
- Builder
- Entertainer
- Water Expert (fishing, pleasure cruise, transport)
- Air Expert (pilot, bird man, air defence, space guard)
- Accountant
- Teacher
- Police
- Scientist

Hey that wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. Everyone will get paid the same amount of money, which is the devil's nephew (socialism) but we've tried all this other stuff and too many people live amongst garbage. Some people still think you get AIDS from being gay while others look AIDS in the face every day. That couplet will be in the first verse of our new worldwide anthem, produced by Mutt Lange and Kanye West and featuring Buckethead on lead guitar.

I picture everyone being outside a lot more too so there will be an effort to move people toward the tropics. No more living in deserts, frozen tundra or Russia. Don't get me wrong, I'm very impressed with how we've adapted to these stupid places, but I bet if you showed the Michael Jordan of the Arctic a white sand beach and a fresh pina colada he'd forget all about how to turn snow into breakfast.

You'll have a very flexible work schedule and most days you'll spend outside BBQing with your friends and family, playing simple games using rubber balls and sidewalk chalk. Speaking of friends, you know how it stinks when they live far away? Not on my Planet Cool Dude. All of your neighbours will be friends and family and that's how everyone will arrange themselves, sort of like Facebook without computers. You know how popular Facebook is? I bet so many aliens have human Facebook but there's so many of us on we don't even know they're aliens.

You can spend your money on travel if you want but you really have to commit to it. You'll declare "hobo status" and be free to roam but you have to be a good story teller and know how to work with beads.

PARADISE

TEN TO LIFE JUST FOR SWALLOWING GUM AND NOT TELLING

THE IMPLICATIONS OF THE U.S.A. ELECTION ON THIS WEBSITE

My phone has been buzzing in my pants non-stop since Barack Obama re-took the Eagle Bone Throne in Washington, D.C., A.D. And no, the calls haven't all been well-wishers, it's been mostly media and political analysts trying to get the scoop on how Obama's re-election will effect this funny website and myself personally. Instead of paying for studio time and an able-bodied crew to put together an hour long prime time special hosted by my girl Holly Robinson-Peete (she owes me a favour after I babysat her bat), I think I'll just address everything here.

And yes, I do know that I'm Canadian and that my sarge is Steve Harper, but most of my favourite shows and some of my all-time favourite snacks are from America, which if you know anything about NAFTA is basically a passport. Plus, I live about 90 minutes from Buffalo, commonly known as America's Best Kept Secret because they seriously don't want anyone to know it's there. 

I hope that Obama makes some strong moves on environmental policy that will hopefully influence some of our more conservative regulations. Two years ago I bought a nice slab of land to turn into an orchard that would allow me to start making baby food that isn't just Cheerios ground into oatmeal and Fruit Roll-Ups (we went belly up after three hours but that night's goodbye party where we took care of our existing stock was both crunchy AND chewy). Everything orchard-wise was ready to go until a Federal inspector audited the property and determined that my trees wouldn't be allowed to re-produce until 2017. Apparently the Government decided our country's trees had an international reputation for being too slutty after a group of Japanese diplomats were horrified to see a field of Douglas Firs absolutely covered in acorns, whirlibirds and sap while they toured the Canadian Tires of North Bay. So I was forced to throw what is known as a "Non-Penis Tree Sized Ultra Slim Sheath" over some of my most virile fruit trees meaning my second baby food business was again finished before it started. Instead I took what little fruit I had and sold fresh juices to the boys at the neighbouring FedEx hub and managed to gain great insight into modern logistics and how to send a dog to Brighton for less than thirty quid.

Hopefully this issue will come up when Obama and Harper meet up in February for Book Club (this year's book -- Novelization of 'No Holds Barred' by Nitro Gravenfire). I know I'll be in the vicinity with my sign that will read "Don't be Cruel, Don't Be Lazy, Let our trees fuck like crazy".

Now this seemingly doesn't have anything to do with this website but I find it very cathartic penning blog entries amidst blossoming trees. Last coupla years I've been doing most of my writing in the cellar instead and I've collected so many spider webs that I can donate them to the Cancer Society to make silk wigs for rich patients. While down there I also taught myself how to make a candle out of an empty can of Dr. Pepper and some gasoline.

The only other major issue I face is whether I should continue the moderately popular blog feature "CanadUSa -- Let's Chat". It was a mix of political cartoons and simple every day differences between two nations who should be husband and wife but are instead thought of as wig master and best boy. How about this -- one more cartoon for old times sake and then I'll retire the feature altogether and come up with something new for all you geography squares. Do you like Holland? Great! I love its infrastructure and willingness to put ANYTHING on toast. Compromise is what cyberspace was built on. Here we go, one last toon:

You probably won't understand it unless you read the Shnubb-Tasset Report on Economic Hegemony when viewed through the lens of Post-Colonial Pre-Authorized Stewardship which had some Dems laughing in the aisles of the House while calling up their spouses and telling them to get the camper ready for the move to Calgary. Anyway, that's a cactus in case you couldn't tell.

WELCOME TO... JURASSIC PARK

DIVE DOWN AS DEEP AS YOU WANT BUT I'M TELLING YOU THERE'S NO HONEY DOWN THERE

SAMPLER

Apples, cheese, nails, and wall paper -- the kind of stuff you'd find in a traditional modern sampler. Today, like a lot of days on my Internet, I'm going to provide with a sample of thoughts and squirts meant to encourage conversation about the world we live in today. I feel like I haven't been very communicative lately both in real life and in cyberspace so if the following feels disjointed and doesn't make much sense at all, please realize I'm just having a good long barf. 

First up,

ART WORLD

Here's a digital piece I made yesterday. If I were going to lie to you in a funny way I'd say something like "The Prince of Tourism sent me an email asking if I'd be interested in helping them out with a new campaign. A barrel of figs and an email money transfer later, I took to the Photoshop." But I do that a lot and no one believes me anyway. I was just dickin' around! I wondered what C-3PO would look like with beautiful eyes and the rest wrote itself. In retrospect I should've added a little birdie on the the bot's finger. Or if I was better at Photoshop I could've added another human reacting to the smell of the finger, the result of the classic gas joke.

Art World Op-Ed

There's this beautiful time-lapse video of Toronto going around and everyone's like "I forgot how pretty this place is" and, "we're lucky to live here". I'm weary of this. I'm weary of photos that look better than real life. It's not about capturing a moment anymore, it's about making a things look as if the original FX team for TRON added a touch of their signature spice. I walk around this town every day and I look up and sideways and I see the same stuff but unfortunately my eyeballs don't have a telephoto lens and my brain doesn't have Nikon's SteadyShot CrystalVision HD HighGloss InferREAD technology. There's too many cameras out there. No one is satisfied with just looking at things anymore. Pass me the gin I'm thirsty!

WHERE'S WALDO?

Waldo is in the sparkle of every child's eye when they visit the aquarium for the first time and there's a penguin who shares their name.

Good Living Tip (cc Chatelaine Magazine)

Count your spoons every night before you go to bed so that lost spoons is one less thing you have to worry about during the quiet retrospection before the morning bungee jump.

The Best Way To Communicate Today

Because I have a degree in Communication Studies I often get asked, "What's the best way to communicate these days?". The easy answer is shouting and wiggles, but when it comes to today's technocracy a mobile phone hard wired to an ultra-fast multi-bit grid is your best bet. If you don't have the tools to build one yourself then take a couple hours, get out of the lab and head to the mall where quality, pre-made units are readily available, albeit for an inflated price. Don't be perturbed as these manufacturers need to take into account labour and staff dinners at the crab shack to recoup costs and turn a profit ensuring the gladness of their lords.

Once purchased fill your new unit with definite and probable contacts using your personal phone page that ideally should be locked away in the vault. In any case, call your definite contacts and re-introduce yourself, letting them know that due to your new equipment, your voice may seem distant and ghostly. If two or more of your definite contacts do not believe you, arrange for a community roundtable where you can give a live demo and ease their trembles. For your probable contacts, come up with a question that when answered correctly will allow the contact to move to your definite list. If they answer incorrectly, either delete them entirely and take down their photo from "The Wall of Them", or have them remain as probable and ask them a new question the following quarter. Here's an example of a conversation I had recently with a former co-worker, Bill, whose number I wasn't sure I needed to keep:

Me: Hello, Bill?
Bill: Yes, who is this? (Bill did not recognize my new number or the digital projection of my voice)
Me: Bill. Tell me: When the jester smiles, the king cries blood and two princes dance with shame. The queen lurks behind the throne but no one knows her name. Who killed the king, Bill?
Bill: Sorry, I think you have the wrong number.
Me: Answer right, don't answer poor and I will assign you speed dial four.
*Bill Hangs Up*

I was now free to omit Bill from my new unit and move on to more potentially deserving candidates.

If this sounds like shit then just use flags.

Have a great weekend, no weak ends! It's getting cold outside so wrap your willy in a condom and do the wild thing, woooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo ya. Ladies, bra away as usual, keep those bongos blazin'!

SANG FOR THE BIRD, IT SANG BACK BUT I STILL DON'T WANT TO EAT IT

Welcome to "Hollywood Movie Pitch Minute" where we give screenwriters the chance to pitch their scripts to Hollywood executives. Thanks to the Internet, Hollywood executives will probably see this because this is on the Internet and they're all so rich that they all have the Internet. If not for Hollywood Movie Pitch Minute the public might have never seen Gerby Productions' underappreciated VHS tape Shovels for Jamie. Okay boys your minute starts now, pitch away!

 Adam & Eve Vs. Cavemen & Dinosaurs

Tagline -- In the battle for rocks and meat, there are no winners, only champions...


Dream Cast

Tom Hardy as Caveman Donf
Jennifer Lawrence as Cavewoman Barp
Andy Serkis as Dinosaur Bib Boib
Andrew Garfield as Adam
Elizabeth Olsen as Eve
Ted Danson as Christian God
William H. Macy as Caveman Lord
and Martin Short as the Story Teller

"They're dumb, but strong"
- Adam (Andrew Garfield) after first encounter Cavemen

The United States in America is currently a nation deeply divided. There are those religious traditionalists who believe the Earth was actually created by God with a snap of the fingers and wink of the eye. Then there are the so-called intellectuals who have synthesized years of human study to surmise the Earth began in space and that humans were created low and slow. But what if they were both right?

The screenwriting duo of Theo Spores and Fernando (Come Scream With Me, Ding Dong! It's You, @rmy W@rs) attempt to answer this question in their new script Adam & Eve Vs. Cavemen & Dinosaurs.

When Adam and Eve decide to take a vacation for a couple of weeks (pre-snake) leaving their paradise and nest made of old birds, they stumble upon a primitive society of neanderthals and their domestic dinos. Adam goes to take a shower under a waterfall leaving Eve alone to be hunted by the cavemen's greatest warrior and sexiest chef, Donf. It's a lot like Dances with Wolves for awhile over at caveman HQ. Meanwhile, Adam begins to enjoy the new single life and learns how to ride cheetahs. But then he falls off one and is taken in by the beautiful cavewoman Barp, who also happens to be Donf's fourth girlfriend!

With action you'd call "just right", humour that's pretty good and a love story instead of too much drama, Adam & Eve Vs. Cavemen & Dinosaurs is sure to garner critical praise and box office success. Please buy this script and let's have some fun, shall we?

Here are some promotional images our friend whipped up:

TODDLER SEES GIANTS

It's too bad that drug addicts couldn't just stop for awhile so that those who make drugs will be forced to make better, non-addictive ones that don't make you sell your dad's best Birkenstocks just to get a sweet taste. Because in theory drugs are pretty great. They're supposed to make you feel good, which some people need because let's face it, humans haven't had any good news in a long time. Sure, we're done with fighting wars in disease-ridden mud but it's been far too long since we tried to fly to the moon or had a guy like Gandhi telling us to just relax and stop spitting on each other.  

Some people claim they know how to get high without using drugs. These are the type of people who skydive, rollerblade and keep tea in their ears, but you wouldn't boil a cat if you had a hankering for Peking duck, know what I mean? What I'm trying to say is that getting high is about sitting down and doing nothing while your brain tells you otherwise. Rich people don't need to do drugs because they have enough money to keep their minds happy with lavish hotel suites and equipment that make the ocean a great place, while poor people drown in the ocean and consider going to the mall and checking out the fountains a big time outing. Instead of vacations they use drugs, KFC and video games to get away, but like most shortcuts in life, this one usually leads to poison ivy. Due to a mixture of general happiness, fear and financial responsibility, I feel no need to get deep into the world of our most coveted illegal drugs, but still, every so often you need something a little stronger than a Kit Kat to catch a break. That's why I've devised a few ways to mimic some basic drug induced experiences that everyone, including children, can enjoy.

Chicken Soup for the Ways to Get High Without Getting High

1. Ontario Nightshade

When I have to get up in the middle of the night I try to stay as asleep as possible while doing so just so I can get back to sleep easier. There isn't much to it, I just try to keep everything shut down, including my thoughts and eyes.

Recently I had to get up for a regular toilet trip and this time around I kept one eye shut and one eye open in order to let as little light into my head as I could. Heading back to the bed, I opened the eye that had been closed, and because the eye that had been opened was already adjusted to the light and the other wasn't, my vision got all weird (psychedelic). I thought there was a bug in my eye (hallucination). It took me a few minutes to realize what had happened, at which point I thought of writing this article.The rest of the drugs probably won't be as good because I had to think about them.

2. Upper Downer

This is an old schoolyard trick that's just as mind-altering as it was back when your mom ordered your haircuts and sugar and fire crackers were about as illegal as things got. All you have to do is lie down on your back (throw on some Yes to heighten the experience), close your eyes then raise your arms straight up. Leave them there for as long as you can then lower them very slowly back down to the ground. If you've done it correctly it'll feel as if your arms are going through the floor before safely returning to the...floor. This was actually a light form of torture used by the British during the Boer War. They'd bring in a prisoner and set him or her in front of a guy dressed as Merlin. Merlin would then proceed with the Upper Downer, claiming he made the floor disappear. If the prisoner cooperated he or she was rewarded with an apple and two shillings, while if they didn't cooperate they were filled with sand and used to hold down catapults.

3. Dreamz  £▐■▐

If you've ever been asleep then you've probably taken a drug called "dreams". The big problem with dreams is that it's hard to get good ones, much like this one kind of cocaine that can add 4 feet to your highest jumps. I can't really tell you how to have a good, clear dream, but probably the easiest way is to stay up for two days watching a good mixture of pornography, horror movies and Ghostbusters while eating a lot of Chinese food. At the very least this will ensure a deep sleep meaning if you do get to a point where you're dreaming hard, you probably won't get woken up by anything.

5. Spinners

Find yourself a room with minimal amounts of Fabergé eggs and spin yourself around as fast as you can for as long as you can. When you're done you'll probably fall over and feel what's it's like to completely lose control.

6. Baked Ice Cream

You'll need two things for this drug -- winter and a hot tub. Sit in the hot tub and talk to your friends about whatever, baseball cards, chalk, it doesn't matter. When your body temperature has reached pre-lobster jump out of the tub and go play in the snow. You won't even feel cold (for a bit). Finish your night off with a bowl of soup and a good book and you're really livin'.

JESTER WEARING SWEAT PANTS

A new chapter has begun in my life, and no, it doesn't have anything to do with better, more viscous motor oil for my dirt bikes, it's all about being a HUSBAND. That's right, instead of the shopping and eating I would've normally done on Saturday September 15, 2012, I got married and ate. I'm now legally obligated to be a one-woman man, which is very easy because my one woman has everything, man. Sorry girls of the gworld, from now on I'll have to live by "look but don't touch" as opposed to the non-legal period of our relationship where Liv imposed "touch but don't look". Did you know that while blind, a nose feels like a perfectly toned little rear?

It was the best day of my life, easily beating out the day I puked at the circus. The whole wedding went according to plan, except the pandas I ordered wouldn't eat the bamboo cake covered in caramel, they just sort of fell asleep and got bothered by all the bees.

Seriously though, there were bees. Four people got stung at the rehersal including my Mrs. whom I ran away from as soon as I realized there were bees around. It's okay, she knows I'm a weakling which is why I asked all wedding attendees to give us grenades as gifts.

Getting married is a strange and wonderful thing. You spend months and months planning the thing, spending time with the male members of her family in a series of escalating battles culminating in a no holds barred, weapon of your choice, covered in margarine battle royale in a viper pit, and then in a matter of 8 hours it's all over. Then you kiss for awhile in paradise and then go back to work.

The Bride and Best Man re-materializing after their traditional trip to Pre-Historic times. He brought me back big tusks.

For our kissings, we spent time in Hawaii, which most people agree is probably the last place we'd want to hand over to the aliens when they get here. We were on the island of Oahu which is famous for being the home of Dog "The Man" the Bounty Hunter as well as being a place Japan simply couldn't stand in 1941. The locals love surfing so much that they basically don't have much time for anything else, including fashion and music. They all wear bathing suits and t-shirts with surfing on it, and the only music we heard was a form of reggae and/or something that sounds like Jack Johnson, who also only wears t-shirts and bathing suits.

But really, it was quite the place! During our time at the famous North Shore, where the worlds' best surfers come to talk recipes, we were lucky to see some huge, unseasonable waves which made for some memorable "oh yeahs!". I actually didn't try surfing because when we went snorkeling I got nauseous. The sea is definitely beautiful but it tastes like really bad fries and burns my eyes. You'd think after a lifetime of rain, the damn thing would be watered down by now. 

Took in a funeral!

David Letterman's Top 10 Signs You're Married

10. You have a ring on the finger between your inky pinky and the middle fucker
9. You have a baby and it's considered beautiful thing, not a travesty
8. Your taxes are different
7. There's this other family who knows you pretty well
6. You owe the tuxedo rental company some money
5. There's pictures of you with a woman and you're both eating a big cake
4. Christians shake your hand
3. Someone is taking money from your bank account but the cops say it's just fine
2. There's a pile of free stuff in your living room and it looks like Christmas for a middle-aged woman
1. You're miserable ahahahahahahahahahahahhahahaha

The future should be good provided I hit the big time and can afford to buy my baby all the tackle she desires. Until then we're going to be a regular, apple polishin' family unit. Stop by our pad some time to experience what true love smells like.

Love,
The Macaulays

RINSE YOUR MOUTH OUT WITH SOAP BUT PUT FLIES IN SO THEY CAN HAVE A BATH

After a summer of hot, dry weather, threatening the existence of the Ontario Grape Club while simultaneously increasing the viability of the Raisin Boosters, we finally got some water over the past week. No one is as happy as the grass and all the critters who haven't had a shower and a good clean drink in a while. The party is unfortunately over for teenage critters who have been free to slurp garbage juice all summer without their mams and pams screaming at them to drink something pure. It simply wasn't available most of the summer unless they were able to crawl done one of those chimneys that leads directly into a toilet. That's the only way Richard Branson will shit.

If you gave an animal an addictive drug, there's no way it could Just Say 'No' because animals aren't privy to studies or After School Specials. I'm trying to think of a way that this could help human addicts, but all I can picture is a rehabilitation facility where you feed animals drugs and laugh all day. Maybe throw in some sort of video production element to get the furry tweakers onto YouTube then when the humans are safe and clean they're able to get a job in television.

It's been so hot and sunny this summer that the zucchini in my garden turned into cacti. No wait, someone just put needles in my zucchini. No wait, those are pickles and I still don't understand the needles.

It seems the post-apocalypse is here, meaning we didn't even notice the actual apocalypse, which according to this Farmer's Almanac that flew into my face while riding "The Bat", happened during this year's edition of Easter.

I'm going have a lot of trouble putting on a coat again. There's that feeling you get when you first put on a jacket when you haven't worn one for awhile and you're like "I'll never get used to this" then fifteen minutes later you feel naked in a t-shirt. Just once I'd like to feel the relief of a snake shedding its skin.

I often wonder if animals percieve that we wear clothes or that they just view our styles are different furs. Maybe they don't give a shit either way. I hope there's been an experiment where dogs are put front row at a fashion shows while researchers study their reactions. I'm not sure what we could learn from something like that, but maybe we'd end up with more efficient guards dogs, more obidient regular dogs, a new style of scarf and/or the abolishment of dog whisperers the world over. What I mean is that perhaps Cesar Millan is just a really good scientist who realized dogs respond very well to dudes wearing cotton basics and a winning smile. Maybe dogs bite mailmen beacuse of their uniforms and not because they can't stand correspondence. Maybe Cesar's just a highly evolved dog himself.

Dogs are at least smart enough to bark like crazy when we try to put a cute shirt on them. You wouldn't put a turtleneck over a winter jacket, would you?

When did humans lose their clothes? By that I mean hair, or as cavemen called it, "just another mystery". With all this talk lately of local, organic, homemade food and shit, you'd think there would arise a movement of people who are trying really hard to grow their fur back so they don't have to buy clothes and can live as the kitties do. The one thing that sci-fi authors have gotten right regarding aliens is that they're almost always nude. Clothes are the most prudish invention we've invented. Not only that, but without clothes we'd be a more enlightened, happier race. There would be way fewer of us and we'd all live in the tropics, which is where nature intended us to live, obviously. The cold parts of the world would be used as prisons or "experiences" where you ride up north in some sort of big van made of windows. Free hot chocolate.

"When did humans lose their clothes?" sounds like a children's book that could go either of two ways -- one is a Christian book about the dangers of nudes and how Jesus invented clothes just because he thought it might be a cool look, not because he wanted to start a revolution or anything. Or it could be a funny book for kids (and entertaining for adults!) about the joys of a natural lifestyle. There was something I wrote in my notebook along the same lines, but I can't really figure out what I meant. I think it might be the idea for that book. It just says:

Origin of Naked

- Dicks natural

- tight pants are weird but tits are fine

- dolphins wearing hats

I think that second bullet means that it's strange that women can wear tight shirts with cleavage but the minute a man wears tight trousers he's labeled anti-man. The last bullet is the final piece of the puzzle, which begs the question:

Will an animal ever evolve into clothes? We've tried it with cats and dogs and some of them seem to enjoy it but I don't think they'd actively seek a sweater. And it's not like we're going to get kittens and puppos who start licking socks not for the taste but as and indication that they want a hat. Cold blooded creatures would definitely dig clothes. Show a snake how a skirt works and it's hooked, guaranteed.

The last couple of posts here have been very nature-oriented, which maybe means I'm finally growing up. Until the next time I find a keyboard in the trash, have fun with all your activities and don't forget to write your website's URL on $20 bills.

MERE MORTALS CANNOT UNDERSTAND THE SIGNIFICANCE OF SOUR KEYS

I recently bought myself a little basil plant and I'm in love with it! That's not it pictured above, as I would never post a photo of a family member unless it's of one of them scoring a goal. I take such good care of the little guy. It sits under the biggest window in our place on its own TV tray. Sometimes I'll put it out on the window sill to get some real deal sun, but I can't leave it out there all the time because the raccoons will get at it. The first time I put it out there a bunch of flies descended on it in a matter of seconds. It was almost as if it were the most perfect piece of shit.

Taking care of a plant is like taking care of any other living thing except it shuts up all the time and loves you right back by providing leaves that go great with tomatoes and mozzarella.

Why aren't scientists making herbs bigger and better instead of wasting their time with Gatorade?

We give water plants, but what if we started planting water? Same things I guess. Can you feed water? Can we make water better? Imagine there was a scientist who figured out that water actually tastes like fruit punch, but some Roman Emperor changed it to what we know today because he was a pretty boring guy? Or maybe Jesus was pissed off when her realized all these guys were mad at him so he was like "Fine, I'm going to make water the most boring liquid. Instead of it being the most beautiful shade of belp (a beautiful colour Jesus later destroyed because he was so pissed. Rightfully so), it will be clear. Instead of it tasting like fruit punch (not like today's fruit punch. More peach flavour) it will taste like nothing. It will still help you live though, I'm not a monster, obviously." Lets grind up a blend of herbs, flowers and nice vines and feed it to water and see what happens. To me that seems like the most reasonable thing we can do right now.  

What do plants need to be smarter? They'd definitely need a brain and a central nervous system for starters, but it'd help if they had a cool attitude and a sense of humour. Are any plants on the cusp? Have we noticed any plants evolving? What if we aren't paying attention and corn is like "if you'd stop picking us for one damn summer we'd probably get noses". Seriously, what's a reasonable step for plants to make that would make them a bit smarter? Maybe they can make some noise?

Hey, do venus fly traps taste good? I feel like we're all scared of them and treat them with a little too much respect. I wonder how bees feel about them. Two of the most feared, both pretty amazing too. Are they the smartest plant? They must be because they pretty much have a face. Let's expose a couple to radiation and see what happens. Worst case scenario, we waste an afternoon. Who is the smartest plant? I guess trees probably. Forgot about them. Oh man, some trees look like they have faces, but who cares unless the face moves? I can draw a face on paper no problem, paper is trees, faces are faces, but no one gets goosebumps and starts to tear up when they see it. I wonder how other plants think of trees. I wouldn't be surprised if they were jealous because we care about them way more than thyme.Good thing trees don't taste good or else it'd be over for all of us. Would you throw up if you ate a tree?

Would a snake eat fresh herbs? I know the raccoon likes my basil, but a raccoon would eat a used condom if it had salt on it. If you gave a cow the option of eating hay or a basket full of basil, oregano, thyme and marjoram, would it always take the hay? If a cow and a pig is around shit and slop all day, does that mean they prefer those smells to the human classics?

Plants at the bottom of the ocean are such hogs. A documentary on ocean plants should be called "24 Hour Party People" instead of that Manchester movie. That one should have been called "Grey Skies, Wet Eyes". Next step in environmentally friendly cars -- cars that run on photosynthesis. Water your car, eat your car.

As I lie on my deathbed I'm going to eat a ton of seeds. Everything from tulips to brambles. Then, after I utter my last words, "it's been pretty good" I'll have my family bury me nude in some really good soil, maybe PEI or behind Buckingham Palace. Then all this shit will grow out of me and I'll sort of be alive. If that can't be arranged, I'd like a loved one to read a note from me that simply says, "I know this is hard to take, but unfortunately, it's sad but true", then Metallica's Sad But True plays, they light my body on fire, and the staff wheels out 200 beers, 100 pizzas and 50 party subs.



I'm so worried my plant will die. The raccoons want it so bad. In order to make this work I have to really manage my Italian dishes or else I'll be the destroyer.

HANDKERCHIEF WITH BUILT IN CLOCK

The Olympics start this week and sure, I'm excited to watch a bunch of government-funded jocks play around, but at the same time, if you've seen one Olympics you've seen 'em all. The whole thing essentially boils down to people being fast and throwing things far while wearing suits designed by scientists who should've been spending their time trying to figure out how to make mice poo out grapes for the poor. And if all the events are the same year after year, who even cares where they take place? The pools in London aren't any different than the ones in Beijing (except British water has more milk in it for smoother teas). It's not like the Blue Jays build a new stadium every season. If organizers want to improve the Olympics, and as I've just demonstrated, they DEFINITELY need improving, the culture and heritage of the host country should inform the style of each games. This is such a good idea I can't even believe it. Let's explore!!

Summer Olympics 2012 in London, England

England's history is rife with tales of rude wizards and sexy dragons, and when visiting the island National Geographic called "The one with the worst pineapples" most people are attracted to the castles and darkness of the famed medieval age. Since the medieval age was full of tournaments and shit, it's a match made in gravy.

Charles and Diana (pregnant with Wills), 1981

Instead of fielding athletes, countries will have to send their best knights. Let's get serious, they don't have to be actual knights, they can be regular athletes, but yes, they must wear armour, and no, women aren't allowed. Don't worry ladies, the door is now open to pose as a man, win some event, then dramatically reveal that Sir Ulf The Blood Barfer, is actually fair lady Dana of Gothenburg, causing Lords of all shapes and sizes to spit out their ale in surprise and exclaim, "just what sort of sorcery is this?"

There will of course be classic events such as jousting and archery, as well as innovative, modern demonstration events like the one where everyone pees on an iPad until it turns off. The main draw will probably be the sword pull. We all know the classic tale of the Sword in the Stone, so no country will be dumb enough to send muscle men, giving wieners around the world the opportunity to compete. There won't be any magic involved of course, it will work more like a slot machine with the winner being chosen at random. Bonus points will be rewarded for creative grunts and colourful robes.

Speaking of magic, each country will also send their best magician to act as a sort of overseer/supporter. He or she or dolphin (Mauritius' top magician, a bottle nose named Haywire) will be allowed to use illusions or just straight up yelling in an attempt to throw off rival countries. They will also be flag bearers and must come up with way to bear the flag other than the time honoured tradition of carrying it on a stick. I once saw an Argentinean magician/flag bearer eat his flag then pull it out of a sprinter's behind.

"I control the nasty bits"

Speaking of the opening/closing ceremonies, there won't really be any. Instead, Wembley Stadium will be turned into the biggest, most raucous, most throwing big turkey bones to dirty old dogs, people having sex on hay-type banquet the world has ever seen. Not only is this a demonstration of hospitality and an opportunity for merriment, but it will also show which country can hold the most liquor, which is an event as well. No one will know this until the sun rises when the King has his servants hit play on the stadium's state-of-the-art sound system that will then blast Iron Maiden's "The Wicker Man" for all to wake to. First country to have its roster of knights, damsels and magicians wake up and finish a full English breakfast, bean juice and all, will win top prize.



There won't be medals of course, that would take the work of thousands of smiths working 'round the dial, but rather livestock bred on some of the most beautiful pastures this side of the Shire.

Pure Bread Shrewsbury Clydesdale = GOLD
Horny Bull = SILVER
Decent Sow = BRONZE
Pint of Scrumpy = All participants

I think we managed to mention barf, piss and poo in one post. That means we've completed the WIDAHIA Hat Trick!

YOU CAN TASTE THE RAIN THE COW DRANK IN THE WORLD'S BEST BEEF BURGER

TENNIS THIS YEAR

You may not know it to look at me, but I'm an athlete. At first glance I'm a regular beanpole with a blueberry head, and yet my career in sport is above average (sub-illustrious). My body doesn't seem to react to anything I put it through, which may mean I'm an alien. Perhaps the Zorb that programmed my human disguise was too busy playing Scrobboobleps on her Grimzax to properly code the growth matrix. If I were to lift weights I'd probably just get hairier. If I ate too much pizza I'd probably have more complex breath. The only time I got "jacked" was when I was a junk man for a couple of summers. I don't think it was all the lifting though, I think it was all the time I spent at some of the GTA's best dumps, aquiring nutrients and vitamins through osmosis thanks to the fragrant air. Seriously, anyone who's ever slept in the same room as me claims they don't need breakfast the next morning. On my rookie card it says "Glenn displays a high level of nutrient transference but sucks at bunting".

Tennis is a sport I've played for a long time, albeit extremely casually. This year I had the opportunity to get a new racquet that cost over 30 dollars thanks to one of those reward programs that buys merchandise by selling your information to Batman. All of a sudden I feel like Thor when he wraps his hands around his big knife. 

Due to some injuries and my fondness for playing skateboard video games, I've only been able to play once this year with co-comedian Chris Locke, whose racqet turned his hands orange because it was old and rich in beta carotene. Good thing we didn't pass by any gardens or he would've been pegged as a carrot rascal faster than a hare on a slip 'n slide.

If we continue to play regularly for the rest of the summer I think we can qualify for Wimbledon the next time the Queen blows into her platinum clarinet, summoning the world's top smackers to the storied lawns.

I bet if you work as a grass cutter at Wimbledon, you take so much grass home the first couple of weeks. There's two type of relationships in this world:

1. Husband gets job cutting grass at Wimbledon. Brings home tons of grass. Wife hates it but supports his career and also finds it kind of cute. After a month on the job, Husband can't think of anything to do with grass plus the job starts getting boring, so he sprinkles his collection on his own lawn, shrugs his shoulders then goes out and gets pissed.

2. Husband gets job cutting grass at Wimbledon. Wife won't shut up about bringing home grass clippings. He obeys. She shows her friends. Makes crafts for an afternoon, gives grass as presents, kind of forgets the whole grass thing and now won't shut up about a tennis membership. Husband says "I'll ask", never asks because it's stupid, but brings her toilet paper from women's toilets.

I'd be the first one I think.

ADD SOME MORE CRINKLE OF THE PLASTIC BAG TO THE CHORUS

FAN UPDATE

Every so often it's a good idea to keep your super fans and stalkers up to date with what's been going on in your life just so they can adjust their schedules accordingly. I don't want to ruin anything, but let's just say this update is going to totally confuse the part of your brain that controls orgasms.

A couple months back I made a major change in my morning routine and I haven't looked back. This was the kind of move that may end up sticking with me forever, a routine I'll pass along to my brood of super boys for them to take, then shape, into a personalized routine that works for them and their pets. I may be insistent that they always keep batteries in the freezer and use the memo field on cheques for wee little jokes, but as for morning routine, I can merely guide them down a path. As tempting as it is I'm not going to just throw them in a wheelbarrow and and push them around until we hit a rock and they fly into a patch of berries that when eaten cause knees to grow teeth.

I realized I needed a change when I found myself constantly rushing shower time. This is not healthy for a guy who sees the shower as a poor man's hot tub, a place where deep thinking meets deep relaxation meets nudity meets pretending the soap is a chocolate bar.

My routine consisted of a casual wake up, leaving me ample time to eat, watch all of SportsCentre (which I had got into the habit of PVRing), then shower, then teeth. I did it this way because I wanted to keep my bathroom activities in one, solid block, and since only idiots brush their teeth before breakfast, I left that portion to the end of the morning. This is partly because my bathroom is upstairs while my kitchen and TV are downstairs. Remember that part in Toys when LL Cool J explains how he doesn't like his food touching? I think it's sort of like that. Where's my bed? We sleep in a nest!

I put SportsCentre and breakfast ahead of bathroom time, which I didn't think was fixable because bathroom time would then be moved to the pole position violating my 'no brush 'til after the mush' rule. I  started fooling myself into believing that SportsCentre was more important than shower hour, even though I fast forward through most of it only to get to the part at the end when they compile at top ten list. My favourite top ten? Top ten athletes who should've played Morpheus.

I had to start thinking outside the box and the big revelation came when I decided to split up the brush and the wash. I'd prioritize the shower, make SportsCentre the middle man, and finish with a late game brushing. The best part? When I'm done my shower I don't even have to hang around in the bathroom, I can go straight to breakfast and and entertainment without rushing the brushing. Since my mouth gets clean at the last possible moment before I leave, freshness is my reward. I've been barking at so many morning babes these days.

In conclusion, I'd highly recommend examining your own routine and see if you can identify anything stupid.

"Change is like a fine wine -- no one knows where it comes from and rich people are so lucky"
- American proverb

THE FINAL EXAM WILL BE SUPERVISED BY THE COOL KID WHO FAILED ON PURPOSE

Food Trucks are the hottest new culinary trend since chocolate hoses. Chefs from all over the world are leaving the comforts of their restaurant kitchens for a life on the road, serving up tasty creations to adults of all sexes out in the hot suns of Planet Human.

Recently I searched the Internet and the graffiti in my Church's bathroom for a definitive how-to guide on how to get started on food trucking, but there wasn't anything good. I found a lot of pictures of tractor trailers made out of sausage and a lot of funny poems about Jesus' bum bum, but nothing a bright-eyed entrepreneur would be able to use. It's probably a simple matter of the trend being in its toddler phase, which is a great phase for a guy like me to swoop in and start documenting the whole phenomenon before pop culture grabs a hold. It's only a matter of time until:

NYPD Blueberries
Seinfeld's Bagels
Two Guys, a Girl and a Pizza Car
Lord of the Rings, the Burrito King

HOW TO START A FOOD TRUCK

If you think starting a successful food truck is hard, you're both wrong and beautiful. Food trucks are ten times easier than opening a restaurant and only marginally harder than getting a pair of boxer shorts on a raccoon. All it takes is five easy steps and some start up money. I don't want to tell you how to make the money, but I'll try to set you on the right path. Two words: Computer Wigs.

Step 1: Choose a Food

The first step in creating your business is to choose a food that you'll serve to some of North America's most migraine-inducing food fans, otherwise known as 'foodies'. I shouldn't be one to talk, as I'm part of a new movement of forward-thinking urbanites who enjoy breathing more than others. We use our income and free time toward enjoying new air and we've been tinkering with a way to use our genital holes in the respiratory process.

Most food trucks concentrate on one main item, like tacos or hot dogs or acorns. For the purposes of our example, let's choose Shish Kebabs, which are made by skewering chunks of meat and/or vegetables and then cocooning them in hair. They can then be grilled or baked.

Step 2: Find a Truck

I don't know where you can find a truck. I guess check the news maybe? Just make sure you don't accidentally buy a train.

Step 3: Choose a Name

Your food truck won't be popular unless you come up with a killer name/concept. This will inform your truck's attitude and will influence the quirky names you give to each of your dishes. Let's do some brainstorming and see what we can come up with for our new shish kebab truck before I gotta take a quick break to check on a batch of my homemade Skittles.

Swish Kebab -  A basketball theme. All workers dress in classic basketball camisoles.
Shit Kebab - brown truck, toilet trailer, slogan "All food turns to shit"
Fish Kebab - grilled fish, all workers wear goggles. Free water for customers
Shish K. Bob's - mascot is a business man
Fresh Kebab - boring

Step 3: Menu Plan

Looks like I'm going to have a really good batch of Skittles. You don't have to be an accomplished chef to build a great menu. All you need to do is pick a handful of ethnicities, apply them to your main food item then give them a quirky name.

Italian Shish Kebab -- The Shish Kebabambino -- it has cured meat and like, olives on it
Asian Shish Kebab -- The Shish Kebabibimbab -- Korean style
Mexican Shish Kebab -- The Sombrero -- it has a lot of cumin
Nebraska Shish Kebab - The Shish KeCob -- just corn
French Shish Kebab - The Shish de Sade -- duck, mini croissant, butter, cognac


Step 4: Mission Statement

Your truck won't be popular unless you claim to use fresh, local ingredients. You don't actually have to, as it's doubtful that some guy will be able to tell the difference between a carrot from Dubai and one from Guelph.

Step 5: Image

Your staff will have to be smiley, cute and quirky, and at least one person will need tattoos. You'll all need t-shirts with modern designs. If anyone asks why you do what you do just say "I want to give people fresh food made with lots of love". Go outside of this image and risk having a bunch of suburban philistines as your clientele.

MANY YEARS AGO, IN A TENT FAR, FAR FROM WHERE YOU LEFT YOUR BIKE

Everyone loves Shakespeare so much, and so many people think she's the best writer there ever was, right? Has there ever been a writer who fully admits to being influenced by Shakespeare and tries to write in the exact same style but it doesn't matter because they're all like "He's my greatest inspiration"? Here's how that might play out:

You 

What are you working on?

Friend 

Just trying to finish this new play. I'm on the second quarto.

You 

Uhh, Cool. I thought I heard you were writing a play, what's it all about?

Friend 

It's pretty much like, half Macbeth, half Merchant of Venice.

You 

Oh, sounds good, like loosely based?

Friend 

Of course, but Shakespeare is my biggest inspiration.

You 

That makes sense, that guy wrote some great stuff. Can you read me some?

Friend 

Sure! Here's a part where the farm girl, Nancy, is talking all sexy to Prince Barry: "Dost Twine upon a lovely boredom, for spring cannot and will not intend to justify the stars. Hark Barry! Me thought thine iPod twitch'd rarely in unseen majestics"

You 

Yeah man, that's uh, that's pretty funny.

Friend 

Um, no. She's talking about being depressed in the modern age. 

You 

Fuck you Troy. By the way, I know you've never seen Pulp Fiction even though you told me it was one of your favourites.

Friend 

Fuck you Lenny, I have seen it and my sister even owns it.

You 

Where does Christopher Walken hide the watch?

Friend 

A hollowed out book?

You 

I knew it!

Friend 

I haven't seen it since '95, I swear. I remember the part where John Travolta dances.

You 

Everyone knows that part. I'm leaving and I'm taking a Gatorade with me. 

Friend 

It's my last one, asshole, don't.

You 

There's like, four in here. 

Friend 

Okay, you can have one.  

Does that happen in the literary world? I'm just so full of questions today!


Why don't babies drink water?
Why don't ghosts ever go outside?
What was the last book Michael Jackson read?
Are all perverts who want to have sex with fish SCUBA divers?

The answer to the last one is 100% yes I bet.

Billiam Sharkspear (better name)


COOL CORNER

Turns out my air conditioner is just fine, which is damn good news considering today is so hot that ear wax is flowing onto the streets like chocolate milk out of the dick of a brown cow. 
 
To celebrate, here's a new cartoon featuring everyone's favourite scapegoat, the sun. I've been thinking a lot of about the sun and moon lately, and I think that if I were to worship anyone, it'd be those guys. The sun does everything God claims he can do (keep things alive, give you that nice tan you want) while the moon is so crazy it moves water and has something to do with menstruation which is crazy enough as it is. The sun is like Gandalf and the moon is like Saruman.
 

Click to bigger