Wednesday, April 21st, 2004

One Liner: i have a dream Time of Death: 4:22 am.

I'm always thinking about the little things that we take for granted on a daily basis. Of course we know that every day new technology changes our lives, but nowadays the developments are coming so fast that it's easy to forget about the way life used to be. Not even going back that far, I think about things like television and motorized vehicles. How could people have lived without them. It seems so different, because my generation has grown up trained in the fact that these are parts of our lives. Let's go back a few more years and think about life before indoor plumbing. It seems beyond comprehension, so animalistic to have to relieve oneself outside, not just drunk and pissing on somebody's face who's passed out in the bushes, but all the time. In the dead of winter, plodding out to a little shack to sit in the cold, the only light coming from the moon beams seeping through the stereotypical crescent moon cut-out in the door of the outhouse. How could people have put up with it, it seems barbaric. But it was part of people's lives, it had been a way of life for ages. But it was all they knew, they didn't have any other frame of reference. This always gets the wheels turning, and I think, what parts of our daily everyday life, will future generations someday look back on and say, "How could they have lived like that?" It seems like all the good things have been invented, that it would just be easier to continually make things that already exist better. But there are still huge ideas to be had, that will make some of out current activities obsolete. I think about this because I'm interested, but more because I'd like to be the one who invents this ground-breaking life-changing device. Well let's not stray too far from the chosen topic, I can easily see a future descendent of mine looking back and thinking, how vile it is that their ancestors actually had to come into contact in any form with their own fecal matter. I've never really been real big on bathroom humor, or talking about the disgusting details of human waste, so I apologize that I'm even bringing this up. It is silly that I have such an embarassed aversion to matters of the bowels because it is a part of everyone's lives, but that only fuels the thoughts "What if it didn't have to be?" This is probably not a new idea, not unique in it's creation, but it's something I've thought of since I was a little kid. When will the day come when we can just press a button and be cleared of colon. No more sitting with a newspaper, no more toilet paper, no more toilets. Something so clean, easy, effective, painless, instantaneous and neccessary. Full separation from the animals. The Jetsons never really got into this particular area of discussion but they did have robots performing the rest of their grooming and hygiene needs on that moving airport converyor belt, so I can only assume, since we never saw George in the toilet, that they had since moved on from using such primative means of human bi-product disposal. Of course I have no answers, and perhaps there are engineers and scientists tucked away in a secret government compound perfecting such a machine as I sit here and type. There is of course a movie coming out on a similar topic starring Jack Black and Ben Stiller called, Envy, where dog poo is sprayed with a substance and it magically disapears. Now that doesn't have all that mcuh to do with my vision, but it is good that people are thinking. So, I'll keep thinking and you keep thinking and maybe someday, instead of using the John, or the Crapper, our grandkids will use the Danwho to get clean and emptied. Kids, you better hit the danwho button before we leave, it's going to be a long ride before we get to another emptying station.

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Tuesday, April 20th, 2004

One Liner: underappreciated Time of Death: 9:08 pm.

I'm actually quite glad that I wasn't able to sleep last night. I was watching Comedy Central and happened across three episodes of Strangers with Candy and then one of Upright Citizens Brigade. I used to love both of these oddball shows. Both shows have this strange, love it or hate it type of dry witty take on the most ridiculous situations. I just recently bought my brother the Strangers with Candy first season DVD and watched most of it during spring break. The show is a hilarious satire of after school specials and "very special episodes" of teen dramas that stars Amy Sedaris, Paul Dinello, Greg Holliman and Stephen Colbert (Daily Show). I liked the show, I loved Colbert on the show but my favorite character was the father who was always in some sort of frozen state as if he were dead and been worked over by a taxidermist. I know some people are turned off by the rubber-face of Amy Sedaris's character Jerri Blank...which is funny because she is actually quite pretty but has an uncanny ability to mold her face on cue. I hadn't realized that the show had a cult following, but it was well recieved by people in the industry and boasted a list of guest stars including: Winona Ryder, Janeanne Garofalo, Paul Rudd, Will Ferrell, Tim Meadows, Andy Richter, Bebe Neuwirth, Mark McKinney, Cheri Oteri and David Cross. And I am excited that the there is a feature length film in pre-production, including the original cast and Matthew Broderick and Sarah Jessica Parker. I hadn't seen UCB since they got cancelled about 5 years ago. The Upright Citizens Brigade is a comedy/improv troupe, the four main members which are Amy Poehler (SNL, Wet Hot American Summer) Matt Walsh (Daily Show, Old School) Matt Besser and Ian Roberts. Tonight's episode was the Little Donny Disease, one that focuses on raising awareness in order to find a cure. Little Donny Disease is of course called magnimus- obliviophallocytis in medical circles and concerns little boys who have penises the size of a horse, but are oblivious to their condition. I really can't believe this show aired in primetime in the late nineties, i mean it is cable, but can they really get away with smacking another unwilling man in the face with a humongous penis and screaming that a little borderline retarded boy is a pussy? I'm sure if this was the actual straw that broke the camel's back and led to cancellation, but I know that near the end of the series, as part of their Little Donny bit, the UCB got into the crowd in front of the large floor level window during the live broadcast of the Today Show. I'm sure that the cameras that pan the crowd have since been put onto a delay, but at that time it was all done live. And Matt Besser equipped with his enormous strap on dildo hanging limply from his tiny shorts started jumping around for the cameras. I think I heard that story on Opie and Anthony, the best radio show ever cancelled more than once, hell the best radio show I've ever heard, the only radio show I would've quit my job if I couldn't listen to in the afternoons at least twice a week, hell again, the only radio show I've ever made any effort to listen to more than once. Opie and Anthony was running a gag that if any woman was able to flash her breasts on live television during the Today Show crowd pan, they'd give her like a grand of something. This of course is unthinkable after the SuperBowl but if O&A hadn't gotten the FCC axe years ago they would have gotten the axe way before Howard Stern's nuts even smelled the chopping Block. Getting people to have sex in St. Patrick's cathedral live on the air as part of a contest where people have sex in public places of differing degrees of security for points is apparantly not cool with the fascists at the FCC. Kevin Baker visited JMU monday on his way back from VaTech. So hi kevin. I added an icerocket search button on the side there, look over, yeah you see it? Good, it'll be there when you need it, so use it. It's not just another search engine. This one is not sponsor driven and is run by Ryan Perry and guys like him, so for that alone, do it now, search it up. But in the future, like when you're reading my site and you want to fact check me, so you can rub it in my face, go ahead, search it up. And when I neglect to leave u satisfied, only giving you the facts that make me happy, and you are laying there wanting more, then search it up. And say you were at my site and wanted to waste some time, you could type danwho in the box and you guessed it, search it up...voila back to my site, bet that killed a good 15 seconds. Yeah I figured that the box on the side was too far to go all the way over to. So for this post, I'll let u search from the convenience of the update, but from now on, you're going to have to use the one on the sidebar. :For just $10, the price of a Holland Tunnel hand-job, you can help little boys like Donny and their gigantic penises.

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Sunday, April 18th, 2004

One Liner: girls, don't get me wrong, I had fun, I always do Time Of Death: 10:58 am.

Friday night Scully, Courtney, Asian Lyndsey, Maureen, Joy, well all the girls (I don't know who had creative control) threw a toga party in Foxhills. I took one of my soft as a kitten black sheets and prepared to dance to my hearts content. This update is coming straight at you for three reasons, none of which is that I am in the mood to write or that I have much to say. Reason 1 is that I wanted to show the picture that Abigail so graciously took and put on her webshots. Reason 2 is Joey Stylez and I spent a good deal of time talking about toga parties as a genre and I wanted to put up some of his ideas. And Reason 3 is that I'm not doing anything particularly interesting right now. Now I noticed as did some of the others present that Joey Stylez was not in a toga, Mike assumed it was because there wasnt a posh velvet type toga that would be excuse the pun, stylish enough. But Joseph actually was acting on moralistic reasons. Well actually morals have nothing to do with it, but he was still making a stand of some sort. We talked in depth about the toga party and he came up with some interesting points. Perhaps back when in 1978 when Animal House came out, a toga party was a wild idea, but as far as he was concerned times have changed. "Changed?" I said, you mean "Carter isn't in the white house anymore?" Then he slapped me for being fresh. The point he was making is that at a wild Animal House toga party it was a break from the norm of furry brown sweater turtlenecks, and there was sure to be some flashes of skin and wildness. Now not that all that has disapeared from today's toga parties, and I still had a great time dancing and scrapping it up, but the idea is not quite as risque as it once might have been. Todays college landscape is awash with girls wearing very little just as soon as that first nice day hits in the season. That outfit that has been in their closet for the past few months just stares at them and says "I dare you to squeeze into me, bitch." And it's not just the girlies going crazy, when that first ray of sunshine shines down on a gorgeous day, just about everyone loses their minds like they've been in Alaska and the dark season just ended. "what's this brightness in my eyes? How come my skin is getting warm? I must have a fever and be delirious again with another winter cold...oh snap, it's sunshine, i had forgotten. Time to run through the streets and yell from the open windows of my passing car at anything that moves." What I'm saying is on any normal day, walking around on campus, girls are whoring it up, wearing next to nothing, tight little shorts, the backs of which look like a two year old drawing flying seagulls, swoop-swoop...halter-tops...see through shirts...thongs and wet t-shirt contests right in class...its anarchy, and I'm not complaining. Back to Joe's position, you can't walk five feet without hitting a dress-to-screw party, fredericks of hollywood party, no-pants party and now he's trying to get excited about people wearing sheets, many of them over regular clothes. He just had a hard time getting behind a premise where one throws on a sheet tightly around the collar and down to their ankles. And the idea is that togas are like dresses, which is a step backwards from what he's used to. That girl was wearing tight jeans and top, not incredibly revealing but tight, drape some sheets over her and we're into Islamic fundamentalist territory. While I agree with some of his ideas that were well presented and good points, the biggest flaw in this line of logic is that a toga party is a fun theme party, where people get silly and it isn't always about the sex. And it was greek weak so it wasn't out of place. Hey but maybe it's just me, as much as I like looking at slutiness, I can see it anywhere, so I might prefer a good creative costume party 8 times out of 10. 80's parties, and other theme parties are fun becuase of the theme, the creativity that goes into the costumes, not the sexiness involved. Christ If i was trying to get laid I wouldn't have dressed like a druggie punk circa 1980, Groucho Marx, or Boy George. Personally, as soon as I got into my boxers and draped a sheet over my shoulder I just felt like dancing, I wanted to dance the night away. And isn't that the appeal, that if just one person really feels it, then its all worth it. :The time has come for someone to put his foot down. And that foot is me. (Animal House).

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Friday, April 16th, 2004

One Liner: dave osorio feel free to tune out Time of Death: 1:29 am.

Well baseball is in full swing, I'm lucky that the Yanks are such a draw that they get on ESPN as much as anybody, but since I'm in the VA area, there are an over abundance of Orioles games on television that have to satisfy my craving for the national past-time. During the Orioles home opener a week or so ago, Cal Ripken Jr. spent some time in the announcers booth to promote his new book, called 'Play Baseball the Ripken Way: The Complete Illustrated Guide to the Fundamentals.' He's officially on the book tour now, so get to your local Barnes and Nobles and visit the Iron Man if you get a chance. The book most likely embodies everything noble about the game, and will serve as a worthy guide to young potential ballplayers in training. Not to be undone, or ignore a chance at some fat cash, former baseball slugger, and all around eyesore, Albert Belle is working on a new book as well. It's still in development, but I was able to get my hands on a sample treatment that was leaked by some sloppy photocopy intern. -Chase the big money. Team loyalty doesn't pay for Hummers with hottubs in the back. -Take the day off. Bench yourself when you're not in the mood. -Throw some weight around. If the manager tells you that he's moved your spot in the lineup, make a scene and throw a chair, storm out of the clubhouse and go straight to the media. They can be your biggest ally when you need to cause some problems, but don't you dare trust them. -Don't tolerate other people doing their jobs. The media is like a buzzing bee always hovering around you, if they aren't helping your situation at the time being, sometimes a good profanity laced tirade will shut them up. -Get indignant about every call that isn't in your favor. I mean really get into the ump's face, each and every time, make him see the capacity for murder in your eyes, maybe you'll get the next call out of fear. -Feel free to retire on a whim. Don't let "obligations," "responsibilities" or "legal contracts" make you think twice about taking the money and running. -Jog, don't sprint for fly balls. Then maybe they'll let you play DH. Remember once you've signed that fat contract, and your agent made sure there was no stipulation that you have to play both offense and defense, why not get paid the same for half the effort? -Swing for the fences everytime. Ignore the signs from the dugout to sacrifice bunt or hit and run. -Patience is not a virtue. I don't know who started that rumor. Don't stay up at the plate all day getting into full counts and fouling off all kinds of pitches, if you can just hit one out of the park or miss three real quick and be back on the comfortable bench in no time. -Let the other guys call for the ball when fielding. They probably want it more to make themselves look better, cuz damn they can't hit like you. -There is a 'me' in team. You can either care about teamwork or care about inflating your individual stats. And teamwork doesn't increase your value in the free-agent market. -The basepaths are for two things: home run trots and take out slides. Sending the fielder of the opposite team to the disabled list is a bonus. -Winning baseball games isn't all that important. If you're getting paid and getting laid, who's the winner anyway? -When the going gets tough, the tough demand trades. -Pete Rose bet on baseball and he was great. You want to be great too. Am I saying betting on baseball makes you better? We'll I'm still experimenting with it. -RBI's equal cash. Only really try your hardest when there's runners on. Why break your back when no one's in scoring position. -Refuse to play in All-Star games. But if you don't get selected, blame your manager, blame the fans, blame the players, blame Jesus. Never let them see you taking responsiblity for failure. Accountability is weakness and weakness does not make money. -Baseball players are not responsible for being role models. -Suspensions are like vacations. Don't be afraid to collect your share. -The season is too long, learn how to milk injuries for as many games as possible. Only bother really playing hard for roughly 80 games, just long enough to get the stats up. -The Contract year is the only thing that matters. :He's a two-year-old. He changes his mind every five minutes. (John Maroon, The Sporting News...July 4, 1994 on Albert Belle)

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Wednesday, April 14th, 2004

One Liner: lock out Time of Death: 7:29 am.

This is marty, get a good look ladies...men? He called me tonight junkied off his rocker...junkied is a word for being drunk that marty created sometime in highschool when a few of us were drunk laying on my front lawn looking at the stars smoking marlboro reds, yes we were cool kids...I wasn't being sarcastic, so don't you be mocking either...you can click the picture for a gallery of some of my favorite marty shots, many of which were taken by Ryan Gilligan, who's birthday was yesterday, give credit where due. The point is I love marty, he's a great kid, he takes a great picture, and I really do enjoy hearing from him, so i was pleased when he IMed me and among the amalgamation of letters that probably looked like words to him, i comprehended the basic idea that he was gonna call me. I knew the conversation would get loud and laughter would abound, so being considerate of others and knowing that hush, hush, keep it down now, voices carry, I put on some clothes and prepared to go outside. When the Baseball Tonight theme song that has been my ring tone for the past year or so started to play and loudly, I hurriedly went outside. It was about 3:30 at this time and I had already tried to sleep unsuccessfully since 1:30 and had gotten up to waste time online, as is my latenight, can't-sleep, all-too-often ritual....So I was happy to have something to do and the conversation with Marty was hysterical as always...I had hoped to remember some of his hilarious drunk comments to maybe put into an away message or write about, but I've since forgotten most of it and explaining the stream on conscious type ramble of the conversation's context would take up too much of your precious time. The real reason I started writing this was that because of my hurry to get outside before waking up the neighborhood, i neglected to bring anything with me except the phone. When my conversation with my buddy ended, I was therefore left outside in the misty darkness without means to get back inside my damnable dorm building. I didn't have my JACard to swipe into the building, I didn't have my car keys to get into my car, and I didn't have any money to walk anywhere of worthwhileness. I tried all the doors, of course none of them were currently broken, and it was 4:30 on a wednesday morning so there wass no foot traffic to piggyback on. None of the lights in the windows were on so I figured I was spending the night, cold and damp outside. I could've called someone and woken them up, but Karthik's phone is always on vibrate at night and he never answers it if he's asleep. The only other two phone numbers I have of people in my building is my suitemate KB, who was also fast asleep and Chad, but he just shipped out for Iraq...good luck buddy. But speaking of our troops, about and hour and a half into my pacing, sitting, standing, shivering I was rescued by the military. God Save the Military. I spotted two beacons of American pride walking out of my dorm in full camoflage fatigues, right on time at 5am for PT. Hooray for their rigorous schedule of regimented early morning exercise. The military science and ROTC programs at JMU have done their part for danwho once again. I took the military science leadership lab class freshman year and got a B for playing paintball and repelling off an 8 story building, we dressed in full fatigues and the coolest boots ever. When the class was over we were allowed to keep the undershirt which is my favorite shirt that I own. So there's that. I'm floundering...I'm done. housecleaning: Narcissism If you are half as infatuated with me as I am, theres a new photo section for your viewing enjoyment. Smithappens.com Turkey Sub escapes daily, check out smithappens LastStory.com TomJonesPants dotcom was reviewed and favorably, by Last Story, sex bomb city A promise is a promise...

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;nbspSaturday, April 10th, 2004

One Liner: I lufff her [or him (the mouse, calm down)] Time of Death: 6:07 am.

listen, i say listen alot to start off, but this is something to listent to, I was pleased as say punch to present that last little update with the toasters, i really must love myself to an unhealthy degree to be that sickly obsessed with myself, but hey I got a laugh, and remember this, I do this for ME, i don't evn know u buddy. yeah u guessed it, this is a drunkpdate and in the words of Piyum Khatibi, who might as well be me, "I'm hammered and I'm going home for the night" see thats funny, cuz i left my phone at smit, james, piyum and steves and then smitty called me and piyum who had gone home picked up and pretended to be me and said that sentence, but i was at the same party as smit but just on the balcony...open ur eyes, smattdog. hey this not about me being drunk or being in love with you, and I AM, listen you know it's true, don't fight it, just kiss the screen and I'll feel it....this is about a mmouse. this mouse, to my knowledge has never ridden a motorcycle, but is still the coolest mouse I've ever met. EVER. and I'm a mouse connnousoiuree? The story begins, well I wish I knew the origin. But hey I don;t, deal with it. But enter me and smith-appppenssssss walking from one apartment party back to the homebase for some playing cards and some of my yeungling and amberbocks...enter a mouse, white as can be, white as virgin snow, white as powder, not like a pale granular substance, but more like the albino character from the movie of the same name. this mouse is scared, probably from some trying ordeal that we can not even fathom with our feeble human minds, he's trrembling and not moveing much, nibbling on grass blades. Me and smitt stare at the mouse like its a beacon from heaven for a good minute. The mouse makes nary a move. Smitty runs home to get some sort of container, my job is to track the mouse's progress. The mouse, realizing that it was now ONE on ONE, and that his foe is the less than fleet-footed D.Who, takes off into the parking lot, I run and put my foot in front of its path several times to get it out of the line of fire, I'm yelling commands at the silly monster to stay away from the possible travels of motor vehicles, but to no avail. this mouse it a moron... or is it? Jump to conclusions much? The mousey babey is smart, as Smitty returns with an empty oatmeal box and solo cup, the little critter hides under some cars. I'm sprawled on the asphalt tracking the movements of the white devil under the cars, as he circles the tires of several cars knowing that we can't catch him so close under the treads of the black rubber road grabbers, u like that phrase? I do. Me and The Smatrick each take a side of the vehicle that he/she is currenlty quivering under, trying to force him to make a decision to bolt one direction or another. Eventually he goes towards the middle of the parking lot, where the cars pass through, the danger zone as kenny loggins would have said. Smitty, equipped with solo cup, traps the defenseless rodent in its tracks, saving it from possilbe death. Back to the abode we go, mouse in tow. I clean a large glass pickle jar with some water and thoroughly dry that sonofa-recycled-ragu-jar. We introduce the frightened mouse into the jar, humanitarianly bringing along a bit of cheese to feed that old stereotype. The mouse shit the solo cup several times as well as pissing its weight. I'm sorry mighty mouse, do not be afrightened, we love you. We agree to leave the large, I MEAN LARGE, pickle jar on the deck, without a cap, and to check on the mousey in a few hours. Out we go, and fastforward like 3 hours and we're back sucker. We've told the mouse story to everyone. James and Shaun come back with us and want to see the mouse. The mouse is not in the jar, the jar is upright, not like it got knocked over. What did Piyum do when he came back, earlier? This is crazy. And there in Smitty's ratty old shoe on the deck is Mr. Modest Mouse. You silly slut, how did you get out of a jar three times your size with vertical glass walls and a negative beveled lip of a top edge? You are one crazy character, One mouse worthy of partying with the big boys. So now we know the mouse's whereabouts, in the shoe, let catch the little bastard. I'm still bewaildered, we all are, how he got out of the jar...enough. it's on the loose. get it, catch the mouse, kill the pig, drink it's blood...I;ve got the conch.. sorry....the mouse in a frenzy of adrenaline decides that James is the devil, and that it can smell freedom. Using the great sense of smelll, jerry the mouse sniffs the air and decides that we are probably, most likely, only one story off the ground....that's right he went for it..but he was decieved by his nose it was three stories to the ground....a tenthousand times your height drop without a parachute is worth the risk if your only other option is being the pet of us stupid fucks. He jumped it...like dukes of hazard, time went SlowMo for the jump and it was a sight to see. The folks I was with spotted the landing area and I took off downstairs with a solo cup. This time the mousey had no more fight left, he was wore the hell out, probably still in shock from the sky dive and I just scooped him up right quick. He seemed healthy and was still moving in the cup I carried up to the apartment. I met a man on the way up, who's opinion may not be expert, but he said he once had a pet mouse that died of fright, and maybe we should let him go in the wild. We did some research online and it said that the biggest problem with lost baby mice is dehydration and that we must hydrate the mouse as its mother would by rubbing warm water in a cotton ball or on our fingers directly on the mouse's private parts. Now that's hilarious, but dead serious. We were not down for that however. Private parts still dry as the Gobi desert, he still got the four and half star treatment, in a huge bucket equipped luxuriously with his favorite, smit's shoe to sleep in, a dirty cum rag james demanded on contributing, some lettuce, some cheese, some oats and a dish of water...which the mouse greedily sucked down, hydrate sucker, hydrate. So let's hope the mouse lives through the night, and doesn't climb up the bucket sides and escapes, i bet to jesus he escapes, he's got like webfeet like spiderman suction, it was dumb not to cover his habitat...I mean how'd he get out of the pickle jar? [Editor's note (4/12/04): He did escape that bucket, but hid in the other one of Smitty's shoes, so he is alive and well and becoming more and more domesticated, well as far as mice go in the domestication process, I guess, stop hassling me....He's now got a nice new cage with a wheel, food and his favorite, a cardboard toilet paper tube...His name is Turkeysub, named primarily from the large little girl from School of Rock, but also lets say cuz I love sammiches and I love him and of course because it's funny to say. Turkeysub...Hahahah...goodnite, you're welcome on the update]. "I've said what I'd said and you know what I mean" (modest mouse).

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Thursday, April 8th, 2004

One Liner: I greased the lens and framed the shot using a friend, as my stand-in Time of Death: 10:00 pm.

Hello, hello. You know what commercial I see a lot? The one for Mercedes that features pictures of people posing with their mercedes. The end of the commercial says "Nobody ever poses with their toaster." Admittedly, I watch my fair share of television but during southpark, chappelle's show and the daily show yesterday the commercial aired over 8 times. And then again twice during the part of Letterman that I watched. So chances are you might come across it, or even the related microsite. well losers, I don't have a Mercedes, but I do like toast on occasion. So here is my answer to that ad spot. "...and it has a cancel button in case you don't want toast." [the video is best viewed in a medium sized window for clarity, like 100%, not 200% doofus] (right click, Save As) Toaster Mercedes Parody

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Sunday, April 4th, 2004

One Liner: allow me to reintroduce myself, my name is Who Time of Death: 6:26 am.

This afternoon mr Ryan Gray and I tipped back some High Lifes and watched the Final Four games at his place, then ended up stopping at Relay For Life and picking up Shaun and Ed to watch the second half of the Duke/Uconn game at Bdubs. Speaking of Final Four hoops... University of Connecticut star, Emeka Okafor is a transvestite, well no maybe not, but he's a pretty man. Slap a wig on him and a little lipstick and thats a nubian princess I'd be proud to take home to the rents. Even with those heavy eyebrows, I think he would still make a sexy momma and I respect a heavy eyebrow in a man. Speaking of eyebrows... maybe Emeka can lend some to his teamate Chuck Villanueva, the Uconn frosh from New Jersey's Blair Academy, the guy is the definition of mexican hairless. Ryan was calling him Dinosaur Jr. and compared him quite comically to Phil Hartman's SNL character, Caveman Lawyer. Ed also made the slip of referring to him loudly as a cancer patient while we were at the Relay for Life Cancer Benefit...which could have brought up bad memories for some. Speaking of Memories...watching final four action with Ryan Gray reminded us of last year, and if you've followed my career closely, you might know what I'm talking about: [drunk blur of a weekend featuring the Final Four and Wesley Willis during MacRock, etc.] Speaking of the Wesley Willis concert... I feel a flashback coming on, one of Mike and mine favorite drunk flashbacks, that i only vaguely remember but he reminds me about regularly. (scene: Dan at in concert crowd smoking a clove in the College Center Ballroom) -You can't smoke in here. (belligerently drunk) Who the fuck are you to tell me I can't smoke in here? -I'm security working here Oh, in that case... (puts it out on the rug). Speaking of potent Quotables... Kevin Branson not only made me laugh with this gem, but also took great pains in defending his position: "Janet jackson is humble, and as an actress she's top notch, she's nice, she's nice." Janet is hosting SNL next week so brace yourselves for some, by now past their prime, exposed breast jokes. Speaking of SNL... I got a chance to catch Donald Trump hosting Saturday Night Live and I laughed like little baby with a bottle of Nitrous Oxide and a Dave Chapelle stand-up DVD. I'll spare you the play by play because I am unable to recall what was so funny, but in summary, Trump isn't even close to being any sort actor but did ok in the fact that he was playing himself in nearly every skit. well I was laughing through the whole episode minus the last two skits, but maybe sober viewers thought it sucked. Speaking of uncontrollable laughter...The only thing I remember well enough to mention is a skit called Fathers and Sons, where Jimmy and Horatio were a loving father and son, and in typical fashion couldnt get through a line without laughing, which is awfully predictable and unprofessional but always makes me laugh. It seems that the point of the skit was for those two fruits to just laugh it up and sometimes turn their chuckling into crying... Speaking of fruits... Karthik spent near the entire episode peeling a grapefruit because it needed to be completely clean of something? ducts? canals? i don't know, but something more intricate than just removing the rind. Then he wanted to watch Swingers, which is of course a classic, but he fell asleep immediately. Speaking of Swingers... thats funny that Thikness wanted to watch it, because Matt Keown, you know him you love him, your favorite Matt Keown, called me several times tonight to tell me that he was calling 411 for LA and NYC trying to find listings for celebrities. He got a lot of dead ends, wrong numbers, mistaken identities and answering machines and he thinks he got Jon Favreau's answering machine and left a long drunken embarrassing message. :Randy Newman? -Yeah just sits there all night and day, singing about what he sees

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Thursday, April 1st, 2004

One Liner: The Jokes on Jimmy Madison Time of Death: 12:01 am.

For the few of you who actually clicked through my mini-joke mindlash home page and got here I applaud you. If you're reading this after April 1st and you completely missed it, you can see the faux-front-page here. To be honest, I know i put the joke up a day too early and i realized that I had a few hours after it was done and instead of taking it down, I decided that it could be part of the joke to be on the 31st and the 1st instead of just one day. Like any good holiday it should be celebrated up to a month ahead of time, but has to end the day after. So I should not be berated for starting the joke too early I figured that people would be more willing to believe i really wasn't paying my bill and be less skeptical of the joke if it came a day before fools day. And it may actually take two full days before more than a handful of people actually click on the details page and get the joke. I mean I am broke, but I'd sell semen before letting this baby die if I can help it. So it's actually April Fool's Day today...i love it and yet I rarely ever pull any real pranks, but I hope someone does, and i see it, cuz I like it and it makes me smile.

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Wednesday, April 1st, 2004

One Liner: You are all fools because it's April, and you think it's September Time of Death: 12:01 am.

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