The Christmas Break

This was the year we had to level with the younger one as to truth about Santa. Seeing that she's about to enter middle school, we figured we were running the risk of having her get beat up if we sent her to school much longer not knowing the whole deal. Plus, running any sort of scam this long takes a toll and frankly, the Idiots are tired.
Mrs. Village Idiot sat the child down and had the talk and, all things considered, they both survived the ordeal quite well. The younger one's best friend had been trying to clue her in, so it didn't come out of the clear blue sky, and Mrs. Idiot has been preparing for (and dreading) a Santa-free house for at least a couple of years.

From "the talk", we learned that our Easter Bunny was never really believable. I believe that this is probably less a testament to our deception skills than a defense mechanism by our children; they were both terrified by Chuck E. Cheese and still get nervous whenever they're approached by the giant furry team mascots at sporting events, so the idea of a humungous rabbit breaking and entering with baskets of eggs was probably too terrifying for them and they immediately dismissed it as more weird jibberish from the parental channel. On a brighter front, she had totally bought the Tooth Fairy, and we actually thought we'd have to provide evidence to prove it.
"Yeah, right Mom," said the girl sarcastically, "What happened to all our baby teeth? You got 'em in a drawer upstairs?" This was said with all the sneering certainty that only little kids can get away with.
(big pause while child thinks)
Child thinks, family sees lightbulb come on over child's head, child cracks enormous grin.
Child says "You have our baby teeth in some drawer upstairs, don't you."
Parents realize they have yet another precious story with which to embarrass child.

When it was all over, they split a pint of Ben and Jerry's Phish Food and the world was good again.

So, that got me thinking. The thing I miss most about the Christmasses of my youth isn't Santa, it's vacation. Remember how in school you always got at least a week and a half off? I spent many many days in my youth looking forward to vacation. Counting down the days, dragging through that last week until we were free! Free! FREE!! Then, even better, college gave us a month off! Why can't we do that in the business world too?

Here's a new plank for my campaign for king platform- a two week holiday break in December for everyone. I know we'll need emergency people and store employees and lots of help desk people to answer phones when the new holiday gadgets don't work, but really, I think the world will be a better place if we all take a little more time off. Double Pay for the people that have to work during the break, and give everyone else the last two weeks of December off. We have plenty of plastic pipe, lawn ornaments, and GMC trucks - close those factories! God knows we get enough lawyering and business smoozing done, close the firms and lock the doors, everyone has to go home and chill out.

So that you see I'm a fellow who practices what he preaches, I'm starting my break plan right now. I'm taking the rest of December off. No working, no blogging- just pure sloth.
That's right, you heard me, I'm shutting down Kicked Puppies for the rest of the month and sending the staff home to their families. They've worked hard bringing the news to the people, now they can finally relax.

Fear not, I'll be back in the New Year with a fresh new start and the same old idiocy. Until then, take a break; tell your boss that the Village Idiot says you need time off for Festivus. (If that doesn't work, just start crying uncontrollably about the fact that someone stole your strawberries, that's how I got the time off).

2005 has been fun, and a lot of that fun for us here in the Idiot Household has been as a result of our meager attempts to make y'all laugh. We've enjoyed the creation, production and constant evolution of this blog, but we've especially enjoyed your feedback. (There's nothing better than getting a call from an old friend telling me I made them shoot Coca-Cola out their nose with a fart joke). Thank you all for the kind words, they really do mean a lot. It's been fun, and I look forward to more of it next year.

Happy Holidays all, may they be fun, safe, restful and a little wacky. May your 2006 be your best year yet, and may you come back and read my jibberish when I fire the typewriter up again on Jan. 1.

For now, though, skedaddle, there's nothing more to see here. Go read an old post, or better yet, hug someone you care about.

HNT- Showin' off my Tupac

Here's the latest in my parade of tattoos. I got this one as an homage to the late Tupac Shakur, because I figured that that would impress my homegirl Pink, who really turned out to be Lil Kim, who has nothing to to with Inked, which is nothing like Punk'd. So, in a nutshell, I'm an idiot and have a cool new Thug Life tat. If you want the whole story behind my tattooing, click here.






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What's next? The Annoying Porcupine?

The news story about the penguin missing from a zoo in the U.K. is certainly sad, but on the bright side it introduced me to my new favorite species:

Ladies and Gents, allow me to introduce Spheniscus demersus, more commonly known as the Jackass Penguin. I know, I know, you think I'm making up the name, but no. Go here and learn. It's as if a previous incarnation of the Village Idiot had thunk up the name.

As an homage to my new favorite bird, I offer up the following joke, one of the world's greatest dumb jokes, and one of the few good jokes about penguins. To make it even better, I offer it to you as told by talking chimps. Really, how much better could this blog be? Click here for the Penguin Joke, and have your speakers on.

On an interesting side note, I first saw the video above at work. A colleague gave me a disc full of company pictures for a project I was working on, but in fact, it only said it was a disc of company pictures. Instead were videos entitled Farting Preacher 3, BarMonkey, and HardJeopardy. He'd burned the disc to take home and accidently passed it on to me. There's a lesson there somewhere I'm sure, but for now, enjoy a good laugh. I sure did, for a couple of different reasons, when he gave me that disc.

To Dream the Griswoldian Dream

I was kind of sad to hear that the congress busted George Bush's attempts to use our super-cool spy network on our own people, because I'm pretty sure that if the program had gone on long enough, we would finally learn the secret location of the Keebler Elves, and thus learn how they make those E.L. Fudge cookies so friggin' good.

Well, I guess that's a dream that will go unrealized, but in the meantime, I've been out spying on Christmas lights
You've probably already seen this since it's been making the rounds in email. If not, you're in for a treat. Here are a couple of examples of the most incredible Christmas lights you'll ever seen on a home, and it's set to music, so be sure to have the speakers on.

Lights Display #1

Lights Display #2

Clark Griswold would be proud.

Christmas at Burger King

The Burger King Christmas Carol

You'll want speakers for this.

A Million Beers- #23-36

Here we go further on my quest to drink a million different beers.

First, the beers for which there is no photographic evidence:

#23. Homebrew Porter- a porter brewed by a friend that he dubbed Father James, since the process of brewing it was so complicated he had to send up many prayers and invoke the names of quite a number of saints. The prayers worked as it was an awesome batch of beer.

#24. Bud Light (in a can)- My nephew invited me to watch the then #1 ranked UNH Wildcat football team play the University of Northern Iowa in the playoffs. At the pregame tailgate I had a couple of cans of Bud Light. Keep in mind that with the wind chill it was like three degrees above zero outside, and the game started at 11:00am. Nothing will make you feel old like standing around with college kids who are actually excited to drink cans of Bud Light before noon in the frigid temps. UNH lost in an upset, and I got chapped lips, but it was all good fun.

#25- Budweiser- Ah, the King of Beers. I took that same nephew to see Dave Matthews last week, and I let the lad buy me a beer in return. I ordered a "Bud" which he referred to as a "Diesel." I don't know why.

#26- Budweiser Select- This was also at the DMB show, though this was the show in Boston. The lounge had aluminum bottles of the stuff, which I had never seen before and was pretty impressed with. As W pointed out, the aluminum bottle should really help in cutting back the injuries sustained in bar fights.

#27- Harpoon IPA- This was a draft beer from the Boston show. Yes, in fact, I did drink a lot that night. (We won't even mention the Jagermeister). In general I'm not a fan of Pale Ales, but Harpoon makes a good one that I'll happily drink.

#28- Sierra Nevada Pale Ale- One of my all-time favorite beers that appeared as if by magic as we were chatting after both the shows. Smooth and crisp and just the right amount of tart. Mmmm.

#29- Guinness- I haven't decided yet whether I'm going to count beers that are poured from a tap as separate from those that come in a bottle. For example, Sam Adams Boston Lager on tap would be "one", and Sam Adams Boston Lager from a bottle would be "two". True beer geeks would probably be ok with that, and it's really the only way I'll get anywhere near a million, but since that kind of major policy decision requires much thought, for now, I'm only going to count Guinness from a tap as a separate beer since it's truly the only way to drink Guinness. I had several jars of the stuff at bars 14-16.

#30- Guinness Draught- (in a bottle). Before the discovery of whatever that little plastic thing in the bottle does, there was no way to enjoy good Guinness except at the pub that serves it. (The draught cans were ok, these bottles are better). They truly are brilliant, because this is the best beer in the world, by far. If only the bottles were a bit bigger. (I think they only hold like 10 oz. of beer and they're pretty pricey).




#31 Sam Adams Winter Lager- a darkish beer with some spices, maybe cinamon or something. Very nice for cold weather. I'll definitely be taking this to tailgating next year instead of mooching Bud Lights.







#32-Samichlaus Bier- This is the heaviest lager in the world, and one of the heaviest beers. It's brewed one day a year (Dec. 6, St. Nick's Day (Samichlaus means Santa Claus in Swiss-German) and then "lagers" or ferments for a whole year before they bottle it. This particular bottle was bottled in 1996, which, yes, means it was brewed in December of 1995. It has been in my refrigerator even since.(I know, I know, I need to clean the fridge more often). I finally popped it open and drank a good portion of it (from a shot glass) before I lost interest in it. It's extremely thick and very high in alcohol, more like a port wine or liquor than a beer, but not as sweet.

#33- Samichlaus Bier- This one was brewed in 1996 and bottled in 1997. This one wasn't refrigerated all that time like the other one was, and seemed a little less smooth than its friend. It might have been my imagination, as I was pretty nervous as to what I would find in bottles of beer that have been sitting around for ten years.





#34 Sam Adams Holiday Porter- (yes, I bought one of their winter sampler packs, can you tell?). I'm a big fan of porters and this is a good one. It's very malty but still reasonably light. To the credit of my friend's porter mentioned above, I actually liked the Father James better than the Sam Adams.







#35- Sam Adams Cranberry Lambic- I'm a big fan of lambic style beers and this is a pretty good one. It's tart but not as tart as some of the Belgian lambics. It's a bit on the wild side for an American beer, but not so wild that Americans wouldn't want to drink it. The Boston Beer Company is good at knowing their audience.





#36 -Sam Adams Old Fezziwig- Very heavily spiced, heavy beer. Great for cold nights and its sweetness is like a christmas cookie or something. Great beer for the holidays and a great beer for winter hot tubbing.

The Sweet Science

A few weeks ago I expressed my displeasure at the scientific community for spending time analyzing the physics of cow tipping instead of making my life more like George Jetson's. I see that they've chosen to thumb their noses at me.

Cure for cow flatulence cooked up by scientists

Thu Dec 16, 7:52 AM ET
LONDON (Reuters) - Cows belching and breaking wind cause methane pollution but scientists say they have developed a diet to make pastures smell like roses -- almost. "In some experiments we get a 70 percent decrease (in methane emissions), which is quite staggering," biochemist John Wallace told Reuters in a telephone interview.
Wallace, leader of the microbial biochemistry group at the Rowett Research Institute in Aberdeen, said the secret to sweeter-smelling cows is a food additive based on fumaric acid, a naturally occurring chemical essential to respiration of animal and vegetable tissues.
A 12-month commercial and scientific evaluation of the additive has just begun, but he said if it proves successful it could be a boon to cutting down on greehouse gas emissions.
"In total around 14 percent of global methane comes from the guts of farm animals. It is worth doing something about," Wallace said. Other big sources of methane are landfills, coalmines, rice paddies and bogs.
Scientists in Australia and New Zealand have also been working to develop similar products amid growing concern about greenhouse gas emissions from cattle and sheep.
In New Zealand the government in 2003 proposed a flatulence tax, with methane emitted by farm animals responsible for more than half the country's greenhouse gases. The plan was ultimately withdrawn after widespread protests.
"We've had more success than they (scientists in Australia and New Zealand) have. Everyone has been trying different methods. We just got lucky," Wallace said.

I Need a Name

Earth is an awesome place for people who like to laugh. Maybe we should start sending that out into deep space and attract aliens looking for a chuckle. And yes, I expect they'll be laughing at us, not with us.

Here's yet another fine example:

India's high-tech hub Bangalore to be renamed 'town of boiled beans'
BANGALORE, India (AFP) - India's high-tech capital Bangalore, known worldwide as an outsourcing hub, will change name to reflect the local language and become "the town of boiled beans", the state chief minister said.
Bangalore, according to state historians, got its name from Bendakalooru (the town of boiled beans) after a king strayed into the area during a hunting trip in the late 14th century.
A woman offered him a meal of boiled beans which the king enjoyed so much that he named the town after the dish. Bengaluru is a transliteration of the original spelling, according to state historians.

And another:
Town votes to rename itself Secretsanta.com
SALMON, Idaho (Reuters) - Officials in the northern Idaho town of Santa, Idaho, on Monday voted to rename the 115-person hamlet Secretsanta.com to hype an online gift exchange management service. Last-minute legal wrangling left unclear whether the water board for Santa, the town's only official body, had the authority to approve a new moniker. Even so, the board voted in favor of becoming Secretsanta.com in exchange for an undisclosed sum from a planned documentary on the name change.

Now, all that name changing got me thinking. I've already mentioned on these pages that Native American words that were adopted by settlers as place names have amused me greatly. As examples, I offer up Winnacunnet High School, the town of Mooselookmeguntic, and the Nonesuch River.
Now, without further ado, the staff here at Kicked Puppies will give you the top ten list of the best place names in the world.

10. Boiled Beans, India
9. George, Washington
8. Oh, Canada
7. PlacewhereItookthathugedump, Oklahoma
6. Secret Santa.com, Idaho
5. Secret Satan.org, Idaho
4. Armpittsfield, Massachusetts
3. Loserville, Kentucky
2. PlacewhereJoetookthathugedump, Colorado
1. ToriSpelling, California

Don't It Make You Wanna Stay?

Last night I attended the last show of the Dave Matthews Band's mini winter tour in Boston. Mrs. Idiot again opted to sit this one out so the relative previously known on this blog as W was kind enough to accompany me.

I say "kind enough" because it was, as are all Idiot adventures, a night that had some bumps along the way. After the show, we hung around in the lounge and then hung around backstage so I could chat with my chum. Eventually, we started out toward the parking garage, but found that we'd been hanging around so long that most of the exit doors were locked. For what seemed like a very long time we wandered around the empty TD Banknorth Garden trying to find our way out. I was ready to hunker down, build a small cooking fire for warmth, and wait until morning when someone would surely rescue us, but eventually W found our way to the car and made our way north, but it was very late by the time we rolled back into New Hampshire. (Hopefully W was able to take advantage of today's snow storm and not go to work).

The show was a good one with some awesome gems like Dancing Nancies and Seek Up mixed in with some new stuff. It was also cool to hear the new song Old Dirt Hill. I look forward to seeing how that song will evolve in concerts down the road. For the encore of Ants Marching, Dave wore a Santa hat and a pair of giant goofy sunglasses that people had thrown up on stage.

As always, thanks to my bud for the tickets and the passes, and thanks to W for the driving and the company, and thanks to Mother Nature for the snowstorm, so I didn't have to drag my old, tired and headachy self into work this morning.

Thursday Dec 15 2005
TD Banknorth Garden

Pantala Naga Pampa
Rapunzel *
Hunger For The Great Light *
Crash Into Me
Recently *
Everybody Wake Up *
Grey Street *
Seek Up
Pig
American Baby Intro *
Dancing Nancies *
Old Dirt Hill *
Louisiana Bayou *
Stand Up *
Where Are You Going
Stay *
__________________

Christmas Song
Ants Marching


* featuring Rashawn Ross on trumpet

HNT- Half Nekkid Kissinger

Here's a second tattoo in my tattoo parade. This one is of course former Secretary of State Henry Kissinger.
"Why?" you ask.
"Why Not!" says I.
Besides, I figured that having a foreign relations and intellectual whiz like Hank K. on my shoulder would boost my street credAND my campaign for king of the world.

















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Snow Pants Detente

After the silliness of the "omygodwasthatjohnnydepp?" story in The Portsmouth Herald, I turned to a slightly less provincial paper, The Boston Globe.

I was pleased to read that the United States has finally resolved its dispute with China about the number of Snow Pants we can import.












Now I can finally get a good night's sleep.

Small Town News?

Ok, that's it.

Yesterday I read this article in The Portsmouth Herald, one of our local papers:
Can you read that? It's a story about whether or not actor Johnny Depp had been visiting Portsmouth,NH.
But wait, it gets better:
The story was on the FRONT PAGE!

The writer had no evidence except that she saw someone who looks like Depp come out of a shop. She then went nuts and used all her journalistic skills to get to the bottom of this major frickin' story. Then, somehow, this madness made it to the front page of the paper.

But wait, it gets better:
They got part of their story wrong!

Here's the correction they printed on their website. Seems that the author, Andrea Bulfinch (abulfinch@seacoastonline.com), was too busy chasing around people who look like Johnny Depp to actually research the story or something.

My favorite part of the article was a quote from a realtor responding to a "query" that the reporter had made while following up a rumor that this poor man was looking to buy a home here. Said this realtor, "Perhaps you should stop writing about these ‘sightings’ and let the man enjoy the coast the same way we do ... peacefully." Indeed, Andrea, I think we all agree that you should leave the poor man alone and get a real job.

But wait, it gets better;
They never actually found out if it was him! It's basically a story that says "Yesterday I saw someone who looks like Johnny Depp. I spent the day trying to find out if it was him. No one could say for sure. Here's some quotes by people about how hot Johnny Depp is and some more about what losers the guys in Portsmouth are. The end." Go see for yourself here.

I can't wait until tomorrow's paper comes out, maybe someone saw Mel Gibson! Maybe a bird flew into a window! Maybe they'll do another blistering expose on the fact that every year the leaves fall off the trees!

Have you ever seen Funny Farm? It's an old Chevy Chase movie in which he and his wife move to an idyllic town in the country and soon learn that all of the people in the town are pretty much crazy.

Yeah, it's like that.

Stand Up!

See, I told you I was gonna run a little wild and maybe even go see some of that rock and roll music.

Last night I went to see The Dave Matthews Band in Manchester. It was an awesome show, and especially fitting that it was an awesome show since it was the first time that the DMB has ever played in New Hamsphire. It was also the largest crowd (11,400) in the short history of the Verizon Wireless Arena. I haven't been to an indoor DMB concert in several years, and I was especially impressed with the crowd's energy. There was a LOT of singing, dancing and general carrying on.

Mrs. Idiot, who has been my trusty concert sidekick lo these many years, decided to sit this one out so I took one of my plethora of nephews, a college kid who had not seen Dave Matthews before. I think he was suitably impressed.

The night started a bit strangely, because it was the first concert to which I've brought an Italian Sandwich. A buddy of mine works with Dave Matthews and since it was an extra special treat to have him come to New Hampshire, I had to hook him up with a Super Original from Moe's Italian Sandwiches. I explained to the security at the door that I was smuggling in food for a guy in the crew and that it would be going straight backstage and then onto the bus, so it's not really a violation of the "no food in the arena" rule.
"An Italian?" the security woman said skeptically.
"Yep," I nodded. She started to shake her head and say no.
"It's from Moe's!" I said, and she let us in with it.
Once in, it took a while to hook up with my chum, so we had to sit in our very nice seats with our Italian, which of course smelled strongly like an Italian sandwich. I was glad when we were finally able to pass it on, I was pretty sure that some of those people would have mugged us when the munchies hit them.

The one sour note of the evening was that during the song Stand Up, someone in our section cut the cheese. I'm talking this was an inhuman smell. Let me assure my readers that this was no garden variety squeaker; this thing probably would have killed someone had the owner loosed it in a small enclosed space. As it was, set free among the 11,400 people of the Verizon Wireless Arena, it literally staggered several people in my row and then hung around a while. Once we recovered, everyone around us laughed, eyes still watering, except for two very rotund men directly in front of me. We're pretty sure that they were ground zero, and they may have worked together on it.

"Other than that, the show was spectacular!" said Mrs. Lincoln.
Here's the setlist.

Don’t Drink the Water
Hunger For The Great Light
Grey Street
Dream Girl
One Sweet World
Granny
Louisiana Bayou
Don’t Burn The Pig
Bartender
Crash
Everybody Wake Up
Stand Up
Jimi Thing *
#36/Everyday
Ants Marching

Christmas Song
Tripping Billies

* For Jimi Thing, opening act Mike Doughty came out and did a fun little scat/rap thing with Dave.

Extra special thanks to my chum for the tickets and the passes. You know who you are and you totally rock. Hope you liked the sandwich!

Livin' On the Edge- Bars #14-16

Regular reader Coastal Cutie suggested the other day that I need to get a life besides this blog. I know she was only joking, but I decided that she was right.
Right after I read her words, I took the pocket protector out of my pocket and spent the rest of the day livin' on the edge with my pens in my shirt pocket without a pocket protector! It was so thrilling!
Invigorated, I even went to three bars in my quest to reach 100.

14. JD's Tavern, Manchester, NH- Nice bar in a hotel. I had a Guinness

15. Strange Brew Tavern, Manchester, NH- Very cool little bar with a live band, good food and an antique Harley in the corner. (There's even a sign outside that says bikers are welcome but that they shouldn't wear their colors). I had several Guinnesses. My friends decided that they've heard enough live music lately so we left when the band started. I was ok with that, since the thrill of spending all that time with no pocket protector had pretty much caught up with me by then.

16. JW Hill's Sports Bar and Grille, Manchester, NH- Nice bar that was almost empty by the time we got there. I had a couple more Guinnesses and tried to watch football, poker, and the Celtics all at the same time, as they have mutiple side by side tv's. I was pretty sure it would cause my head to explode, and was reassured when my friend said that if that happened he'd call Mrs. Idiot to come claim the body as soon as he got home, if he remembered.

So there you have it. Idiot running wild and on the loose. Who knows what kind of madness will follow! I purposely chose an extremely ugly tie today to show what a rebel I am. Maybe tonight I'll get a tattoo or go see a rock and roll concert.

Rock On,
Idiot Without a Cause

We Got Some Snow

The television news said that yesterday's snow fall was 15 inches here in Idiotville. I'm going to use that as the official count because I suspect it's more scientific than my method, which is to measure it with a beer:

As you can see, the snow last night was several inches taller than a Sam Adams. Of course, the snow was still falling at that point and I was using the snow on top of the hot tub as my gauge. I think there may be some problems with my method. No wonder the news people never call me back when I offer to be a Junior Weatherman.


So, here in Idiotville, we're enjoying a winter wonderland. Actually, no, we're not ALL enjoying it. Fluffy X, as he is now known, held another press conference to declare that if this winter thing continues, he will have to kill us all. (To read about Fluffy X's first press conference, the one in which he cast off his slave name, go here).

Personally, I think he's bluffing.

I Got Tagged with Seven Things!

I got tagged with the Seven Things Virus, I mean meme by The_Mrs. Here goes:

Seven things that attract me to my wife:
1. Unlike the others, she called it "dating," not "stalking."
2. Unlike the others, she thought that getting a restraining order was going too far.
3. She always has Doritos® Brand Tortilla Chips hidden somewhere in the house.
4. Her penchant for public nudity.*
5. I think her invisible friend Adrianne is REALLY hot.
6. Our common love of the early work of Doug E. Doug.
7. She puts up with my crap.

*I totally made this one up because her dad sometimes reads this idiocy.

Seven Things to Do Before I Die:
1. Grasp my chest and go "Arggggh!"
2. Look around to see who fired the fatal shot.
3. Glance scornfully down at my dog and say "Et Tu, Buttercup?"
4. Set phaser to "liquify" and blaze away at the villains.
5. Collapse gracefully like a flower wilting in the cruel August heat
6. Set my Tivo® so I don't miss the finale of Survivor
7. Say "Rosebud" and then watch the screen fade to images of my childhood sled.


Et Tu, Buttercup?


Seven Things I Cannot Do:
1. See clearly now, nor can I see all the obstacles in my way.
2. Say "Get that goddamn piece of crap piano off my frickin' foot" in Mandarin Chinese, but I expect that any day now I'll find the fortune cookie that knocks this off my list.
3. Talk on a cell phone without getting "shouty"*
4. Believe the dumbass trades the Red Sox are making.
5. Figure out how to use the staple remover at work.
6. For some reason I can't stop thinking about tomorrow. I keep thinking that it'll soon be here, better than before, yesterday's gone, yesterday's gone. On a lesser scale, I also can't stop believing ever since I saw Journey in concert, I just have to hold on to that feeling. (Streetlight people are also somehow tied into this). Also, I can't fight this feeling anymore.
7. Understand what the hell people see in Paris Hilton.

*this is according to Mrs. Idiot and a small sampling of our friends. I'm still not convinced.

Seven Things I Say Most Often:
1. I swear to God I didn't eat it.
2. I didn't know it would smell THAT bad!
3. Is this the sort of function where I have to wear pants?
4. That Oprah, she knows everything!
5. Dumbass
6. Whattaya mean I'm shouting? It's a bad connection!
7. Whoops!

Seven Books (or Book Series) I Love:
1. Blogging for Dummies
2. How to Rid Your House of Owls in 3 Easy Steps
3. That One with the Hobbits and Scary Bits
4. Does Sports Illustrated count?
5. Women are From Mars, Men Have a Penis
6. Anything by Oprah
7. Why Do Bassetts Smell Like that and other Big Questions

Seven Movies I Would Watch Over and Over Again:
1. Anything About Oprah
2. That one with the Hobbits and the Scary Bits
3. Caddyshack
4. Snow White and the Seven Samurai
5. Xanadu!
6. Naughty Housewives 9; Revenge of the Sith
7. Sixteen Candles

Seven People I Tag To Do Seven Sevens:
1. The Girl In Camouflage
2. Wiccachicky
3. SignGurl
4. Don't Miss
5. Blither
6. Coastal Cutie
7. (Insert Name here)*

I hate tagging people. Some people like it, some don't. If you wanted to be tagged, consider yourself tagged and do the dreaded Seven Sevens!

The Tattoo Tale

The story behind my recent tattoo binge is really quite simple. All my life I've wanted to be a pop singer. You know, like Leif Garrett.

So when I heard that Pink is dating a guy who owns a tattoo shop, and that they put people who were getting tattoos on television, I knew it was probably my last chance to attain the stardom I so desperately seek. (Other than cooking up a fascinating blog like Bob Gentry).

Now, this is where the idiot part kicks in. I apparently confused Punk'd with Pink's boyfriend's tattoo show, Inked. I was under the impression that Pink and her wacky tattooing chums went from tattoo parlor to tattoo parlor playing little practical candid camera jokes on us poor saps. I planned on using my fifteen minutes of fame to boost my career; you know, the usual mix of crooning, joke cracking, and charismatic behavior that marks us pop sensations. At the very least, I figured that I could charm the crap out of Pink and she'd let me hang around in her posse. Maybe I could volunteer to carry the boom box. So I went to dozens of tattoo parlors and got dozens of tattoos before Mrs. Idiot demanded the story. Then she straightened me out.


Corey Hart

Inked, as all of you smart people know, is nothing like Punk'd. It's set in Corey Hart's tattoo shop in Egypt. (I'm just guessing it's in Egypt. Mrs. Idiot said it was "in the Palms" so I figured it has to be in Egypt because of all the palm trees they have there).

Well, as Mrs. Idiot interrogated me, she dragged the whole story out of me, and clued me in to the fact that I had a couple of other things wrong. The extent of my knowledge of who the heck Pink is comes from my watching of that "Vooley-Voo Sushi Abbatoir, Cessna" video, you know, from the Olympic movie with the cows, Moolawn Luge. (I didn't see it because I figured it was just a rip-off of Babe and Cool Runnings, both of which I loved).


Embarrasingly, I thought that Pink was the black girl in that video, because I think she may have had on a pink wig at one point or something. As you can probably tell, I'm easily confused.

Turns out this isn't Pink

Then, to make matters worse, it turns out that my new almost- homegirl, Lil Kim, is not only not affiliated with Inked, she's not recruiting members fro her posse because she's like in jail or something. (Probably for impersonating Pink).

So there you have it. I'm no closer to realizing my dream of being the next American Idol, but I do have a lot of cool new tattoos to show off on Half Nekkid Thursday.

HNT- The Tattoo Parade

Tattoo #1; The Blackhawk


I have a whole long story about this. I've been getting tattoos all over my body over the past several months. Because y'all are just here for the pics, I'll spare the story till another time. Over the next few weeks I'll be posting pics of all my new tattoos, so come on back!

Crime May Not Pay, but Google Might!

Over the past week or two there have been a spate of stories about criminals who ran into some seriously bad luck.

Unlucky Bank Robber Pleads Guilty

Washington- Bank Robber Michael Donahoe, 53, robbed a Washington D.C. bank, but was foiled in his getaway when a witness blocked in the taxi Donahoe was using as his getaway car. As he was angrily trying to persuade the witness to move, the dye pack that a teller had put in with the stolen money exploded, covering Donahoe in red ink. This attracted the attention of two FBI agents who just happened to be having lunch nearby. They marched the inky Donahoe into the bank where witnesses identified him as the bank robber.

Indeed, that guy was unlucky. I think this guy might be cursed, however:

Fugitive hides in church, finds police praying
ROME (Reuters) - Gilberto Antonio Carnoale, 48, a man on the run from his house arrest, gave the police who were pursuing him the slip. Unfortunately for Mr. Carnoale, he slipped into a church that was full of police officers attending mass. The officers recognized Carnoale and arrested him. They did honor his request to hear the mass before taking him away, however.

Finally, I'd say that this is a case of divine intervention, because this surely sounds like the "eye for an eye" philosophy we read about in various religious texts:

Police Hit Man in Genitals With Taser
FORT MYERS BEACH, Fla. - Police accidentally hit a naked man in the genitals with a Taser after he was caught breaking windows and asking women to touch him, authorities said. Jeremy J. Miljour, 26, tried to run away when sheriff's deputies approached so one of them shot their Taser, said Cpl. Matt Chitwood. But one of the gun's prongs accidentally hit Miljour's genitals and got stuck, Chitwood said. "The Taser is relatively accurate, but when someone is moving like that, it doesn't matter if you have a Taser, or a pistol. (Officers) can't aim," Chitwood said. Miljour was treated at a hospital before being taken to the Lee County jail. He was charged with indecent exposure, resisting an officer and criminal damage.

The sad thing about printing this story is that I kinda dread the weird search hits I'm going to get now that I have "taser" and "genitals" on the same page. If I could only think of a clever way to work in a "Pam Oliver" or a "Katie Couric Nude" into the sentence, I could probably put up some Google Ads and retire.

Bag Balm Anyone?

In honor of my chapped lips, I present you with this:

The old cowhand came riding into town on a hot, dry, dusty day.
The local sheriff watched from his chair in front of the saloon as the cowboy wearily dismounted and tied his horse to the rail a few feet in front of the sheriff.
"Howdy, stranger..."
"Howdy, Sheriff..."
The cowboy then moved slowly to the back of his horse, lifted its tail, and placed a big kiss right on the horse's ass. He dropped the horse's tail, stepped up on the walk, and aimed towards the swinging doors of the saloon. "Hold on, Mister..."
"Sheriff?"
"Did I just see what I think I just saw?"
"Reckon you did, Sheriff...I got me some powerful chapped lips..."
"And that cures them?"

"Nope, but it keeps me from lickin' em."

NFL Name of the Week

This week's great NFL name is Earthwind Moreland. He is no longer in the NFL, and I believe his position on the Patriots is now filled by Randy Gay. (I'm not making that name up either). Yes, he was named for his mother's favorite musical act, Earth, Wind and Fire

Given the injuries in the Patriots secondary this season, and the fact that we've allowed such great names as Ty Law and Lawyer Milloy to go to other teams, we may need to get Earthwind back from NFL Europe or wherever he's gone. I heard that this "Shining Star" needed to "Getaway" in "September" (Ok, I'm now totally out of Earth Wind and Fire songs).

Rock On, Earthwind!

slang most fly

I had so much fun learning all the weird things that brought people here that I've been checking more regularly. Here's the latest list.

I seem to be everyone's new expert on puppies:
delivering letter of puppies
stuffed puppies little hat
can puppies get constipated?
why do puppies fart so much?
picture of puppies helping baby stand
puppies hoo need a home
celebrity puppies
pictures of puppies coming out of the butt
pictures of puppies playing with a coke bottle
kicked puppies
allison krauss puppies dress
puppies gas
puppies gas smell

I also seem to be an expert on idiotry:
you are an idiot
village idiot pics
idiot boyfriend ringtone
idiot athlete
idiot likes my sandwich
idiot picture
village idiot
jim rome
jim rome is an idiot
jim rome and jim everett video
jim everett fight

I seem to have also tapped into a weird cult of people who like Pam Oliver:
pam oliver pics
pam oliver pics nude
pam oliver nude
pam oliver - big butt
pam oliver makes me happy

These kind of defy categorization:
slevin's bus hire
slang most fly
borat, ali g, ringtone
kicked in the groin pointy shoes
kicked
picture of man's butt crack
winnacunnet nude
man glued to toilet seat picture
debra lafave nude
ronnie van zant
inhuman fart
mailbox prank shoot
lofa tatupu at thanksgiving
ali g harvard commencement speech
big pecker
cow mating
jetsons nascar jacket
assbag
assmatter
katie couric hat thanksgiving pictures 2005
Katie Couric 2005 Thanksgiving Hat
katie couric nude
p diddle shoes

There you go. Search on!

Limbo- The Forbidden Dance

Have ya been reading that there's pressure on the new Pope to outlaw the limbo?

You know, I hate cheesey dances, so a few years ago I would have been all for it. But then we went to Aruba or someplace and saw a show where some old island guy was able to limbo under a stick that was held up only by two coke bottles. That's when I realized that the Limbo is an art form, rather than a dance.

I wonder if maybe they're confusing the Limbo and the Lambada. The Lambada is already "the forbidden dance," so I'm thinking that the Theologians, well known for hating dances (did you see Footloose?), got confuddled. I mean, both dances start with the letter L and all.

Also, though I'm in favor of a lot of legislation barring certain types of dancing, (Hey Macarena!) and I'm especially in favor or legislation that would ban cheesey wedding disc jockeys from breathing, I think that one performance by one of these island guys would sway even the most curmudgeonly theologian, just like Kevin Bacon did when he rode that tractor straight into the Danger Zone. (Ok, I never actually saw Footloose all the way through, and I think that that song might be from the wrong movie, but you get the idea).

Limbo Artiste in action. How could they ban this?

So there you have it, a semi cogent essay on why the Limbo should be protected. Go ahead, Pope, ban the Lambada! Please Pope, ban the Macarena and the cheesey wedding DJs, but leave us our limbo. I see no harm in it, so let it be!

Well, unless of course you get so caught up in limbo fever you forget you're not wearing underwear.

Putting On The Foil, Coach

When I was growing up the Celtics were awesome, the Patriots were stinky*, the Bruins were good and the Red Sox were anyone's guess. Now of course, the times have changed. The Patriots have been awesome, the Red Sox won a World Series, the Celtics have been stinky* and the Bruins? Well, Wednesday's trade of star Joe Thornton couldn't be good, thought I.


Yes, for those of you who are not addicted to New England professional sports, the Boston Bruins traded their franchise player and team captain, Joe Thornton, to the San Jose Sharks for three players in a trade that just flat out doesn't make sense for us. Then, to confound me further, the Bruins played last night using the three new players and managed to shut out the Ottawa Senators 3-0. The winning goal was of course scored by Marco Sturm, one of the three new guys.

Because it fits my brand of journalism, I'm going to ignore last night's game and focus on the negative, namely, that if we're going to trade a star, we went after the wrong three guys. We should have gone after the Hanson Brothers.

No, I don't mean the three Hanson Brothers that make up the Weenie Rocksters Hanson.


This is not a case of the Village Idiot wanting to Hear Mmm-Bop or whatever the heck* their hit was. No, this is the Village Idiot out to kick some fanny*


The Hansons I'm talking about are the goons from the 1977 Paul Newman movie Slap Shot**. I mean, if we Bruins fans have to watch a bad team, they should at least give us a team that's fun to watch. The Hanson Brothers would have provided us with entertainment as well as the satisfaction of knowing that our team would leave the ice only after they'd pounded the living daylights out of the other team. These guys liked to fight, and they liked to fight dirty.

The Hanson Brothers, ready for action

Now, I'm not telling you to go rent Slap Shot, or even to watch hockey, (Mrs. Idiot lists both of those activities only slightly higher than using an olive fork to remove her own spleen, for example). What I am saying is this; The Bruins made a bad trade, and I'm happy to use that as a reason to talk about the Hanson Brothers because they amuse me.


The Hanson Brothers, pre-game but post fight

Really, that's it. There's no moral here or punchline or anything, just the Hanson Brothers, forever putting on the foil, coach.

*I'm trying to clean up the language on my blog at the suggestion of one of my sisters. I'll be going back to bowdlerize previous posts as time permits. (Yes, I am that desperate for readers). I should also note that this was a separate conversation from the one I had with my Sainted Mother, who suggested I should extend the Outhouse Post and research whether or not the moon on an outhouse door has anything to do with mooning. Then, Mom suggested, I could post the story on Half Nekkid Thursday along with a picture of my fanny **** Yes, that's right, the sainted mother was encouraging me to moon y'all

**Slap Shot's tagline was "Slap Shot out slaps... out swears... out laughs..." It is rated R and contains strong language and adult situations. Do not undertake the watching of this film unless you are prepared for salty dialogue. Occasionally it's shown on cable, but there are so many bleeps, omitted words and overdubs that the movie sounds as if the sound technicians were very very drunk.

***I make no claims on Slap Shot II. I didn't see it. I did, however, see Caddyshack II and, based on that seemingly unrelated fact, advise against seeing Slap Shot II.

**** In Britain, they don't use the word "fanny" to mean "bum" or "bottom", instead, the fanny is the naughty bits in front. A friend of mine learned this the hard way when she gave a toast to her British friend's wedding, and humorously mentioned the lady's "nice fanny" which, instead of making everyone laugh as intended, made the room so quiet you could hear all those staid British jaws dropping.

Res Ipsa Loquitur, Have a Nice Weekend!

HNT-Full Frontal Cartoon

Well, I had to black out part of it, I mean we can't have totally nekkid cartoon Idiots on the interweb can we?

Happy HNT!