i wish that i could just once get an email from buddy james that didn't make me smile, laugh and hate him for his unending wit and charm. hate the buddy james.

just in case anyone hasn't yet heard about this guy at the Calgary hockey game who stripped naked and jumped on the ice, slipped and knocked himself out, i thought i'd share the following photo from the event.

it is possibly one of the best shots of this ilk i've seen in some time, capturing the mood of a moment. the range of expressions from the people looking on is astounding. and how the supports for the glass obstruct the guys package is also perfect.

i've also included an account from someone who was supposedly sitting next to the guy.

thanks for the forward bomber.

we keep our microwave in the basement. have for years. and the years before that, we didn't have one. when company is over and they want to heat up their coffee or warm a plate of food, we take their morsel, disappear into the basement and return with a piping hot rendition of said item. you might think we would have to explain this a lot, but most of the people we hang out with surpass this paltry idiosyncrasy tenfold and don't think anything of it: "oh the nuke-box is in the basement, sure, where else would it be?"

allow me to proffer the following as evidence. some couple friends of ours tv lives on one of those black, wheeled audio visual carts in the garage ... a disconnected garage in at a home located in the country. as a rule they don't watch tv. as a helper to this rule, that can't keep the tube in the house, lest they may break this mandate. but when company stays with them, in comes the cart with the shiny picture box. here is where you get to envision my grown and portly friend pushing an a.v. cart across a grassy and bumpy backyard into the home so said visitors don't think them foolish or a tad on the eccentric side.

a situational side-effect of this routine comes from the effort required to return the cart to it's spiderwebby home all the way on the other side of the lawn. in getting it in, there is incentive, company and all. in getting it out all there is effort, and work and a hundred pound pain in the ass on wheels. given this, sometimes the tv cart out-endures the company. this is bad. this is very bad. because as you can imagine, there's a good reason the cart lives next to the family automobile.

i received the following email in regard to a sign left by my friend's wife, taped to the tv during its latest tour in their home: given my friends unwillingness to even check the actual writing on the sign for the above email, i'm thinking they will be watching the next super bowl wherever the tv now rests.

the best voice-mail, conversation or correspondence whatsoever to come out of the cleveland boondoggle (06.07) was easily this email, received from Movie-Girl: back to the drawing board, or perhaps ciphering board in this case.

dearmitt.com's most eligible bachelor, the dr of diss, stevie williams himself, is no longer eligible and will shortly no longer be a bachelor, simply leaving the 'most' descriptor to describe him which i think he will retain with little issue. stephen and his bride-almost-to-be floated through town for dinner and stories after visiting his family in walnut grove a few months back. after leaving, and i never told steve this, marty and i compared notes and each voiced that we thought rachel was a bit of blend of marty and i thus allowing her to stroll about as an astoundingly bright and witty and wholly attractive and quintessentially pleasant young lady.

and this engagement holds special import for me because i occasionally feared the worst for stevie ever finding that one right lady given a horrible event which occurred in college. during a night of drunken tomfoolery in the dorms, steve found himself sleeping on an elevator, naked and adorning black permanent marker art on his rear quarters which included several inordinately large daisy's, a farm house in the distance and words defining who was here, and there, and basically just about anywhere an arrow could be drawn. and did i mention that he visited every floor of the tower in this comfortable state before regaining enough wit to return to his own.

at a later point in time i thought steve was drawn to medicine to divine a method of permanently removing the faint remnants of those indelible glyphs from his person. i gather he succeeded in that i don't know anyone would necessarily pursue a relationship with someone who's body logged a preverbal who's who of hudson hall in the 90-91 academic term.

good work steive-poo (and that by the way is what i wrote in elongated cursive on his inner thigh ... although it was two full years after the naked elevator incident).

i've not wanted something to be true this much since i heard that the don johnson music video collection was coming out in DVD. please, please, please let it be true! thanks pegster.

would you believe this one never got published? shocking.

i'm headed to portland for a little work and a whole lot of boondoggling. you can be certain that you will be hearing and seeing the humor before long. more than anything, i just wanted to forewarn you that updates will be a little spotty at best for the next several days. had i planned better i would have turned the update duties over to one of my esteemed readers. ok, so we all know that i absolutely would have turned over the reigns had i two esteemed readers to rub together. will you look at that, another potential entry is born.

and for any wondering if i've packed yet, know that i've packed my recently delivered issue of Large and in Charge and i'm quite honestly thinking anything else i may remember to bring would be gravy.

1. team sports
2. any and all bruce willis films, and yes including die hard
3. the fraternity lifestyle
4. the french fry you just ate
5. the employee handbook
6. signs that read "please leave underwear on when trying on swimwear"
7. chest hair removal systems

e-love on the complexities of his sexuality

george carlin on things he has learned

i was going to get one of these for marty this christmas until i read this help desk posting. freaky as that is, it's not as bad as the tickle me elmo doll i had that would grope and diddle himself whenever he got dropped.

saint louis has this thing where you can't get candy until you tell a joke or do some pantomime (trick). Saint louis translates the phrase trick or treat very seriously. I initially hated this, mostly because i know i would have loathed this added pressure and time hit as a child, but i have since grown to enjoy the tradition. Here are some of the more noteworthy offerings this year:

best joke of the night
Q: when isn't a door a door
R: i don't know
A: when it is ajar

most overused joke
Q: why didn't the skeleton cross the road
R: i don't know
A: because he didn't have any guts

worst joke of the night (actually a riddle)
Q: you're in a room with no doors or windows and only a table and mirror in it. How do you get out?
R: i don't know
A: neither do i

Walt and I went on our first dinner and show combination since Bella arrived seven months ago. The dinner was reminiscent of an earlier time in our life. And, I learned that I'm not yet very astute in my new mission to eat healthier. We went to this sloppy burger place, Blueberry Hill, that is known for it's sloppy burgers. I ordered blackened red snapper, a new item on their menu and am confident that it will be a newly removed item before long. Marty advised me that ordering gourmet food from sloppy burger place is ill-advised. Point and indigestion taken.

For the entertainment portion of the evening we strolled down the way to the Pageant to see Margaret Cho, of All-American Girl fame. It would seem that Cho has fallen off my radar for too long, or that I was pretty thick when I first discovered her many years back. I was not aware that she is now more publicly championing the gay rights cause. This translates to Marty's observation at the concert that we may be the only straight couple in the house. I contemplated the impact this may have on her material but soon felt that she crafted the show especially for me. Her first bit dealt with colon hydra-therapy which she reports to be all the rage in california. I've always said you can't go wrong with rectum or rectum related humor given its universal applicability. She next launched into a 15 minute routine dealing with menstruation, specifically the implications that could be assumed if men experienced the monthly visitor. As I said, a show specially catered for me.

In the end, I don't know that I would send many people to this show. She definitely pulled some guffaws from Walt and I, particularly from her various personas, but there is a toll. For one, the opening act was this huge black cross-dresser who's whole bit revolved around some guy he yanked from the audience, garnished his feet with cherries, syrup and whip cream and then licked it from between the poor lads toes. Then he ... walked off the stage ... meaning, that was it. One might say he is the antithesis of carlin, miller, seinfeld and most other humans.

So Cho at your own risk but it was nice to meet my wife again.

did you hear about the hooters employee who won a company contest for selling the most beer? she was under the impression, from the company, that the grand prize was a Toyota car but when she was presented with her spoils it turned out to be a "toy Yoda," the original star wars munchkin. And, lo and behold hooters finds themselves embroiled in yet another lawsuit.

now what i ask is what makes a company think they can deceive and fool their employee and customer base in so many ways? well, if you've ever been to a hooters i reckon you know the answer.

Man Who Screams Like Woman was telling me about this friend of a friend who has this bevy of great pickup lines. I get the impression that he is a pretty fit fellow and likes to draw attention to his physique whenever able. It was explained that in the delivery of the below lines, before answering each question, the meatback flexes his arm muscles and strikes a Ferrigno/Schwarzenegger like pose while finishing the line. Granted, this story is much better when Man Who Screams Like Woman is in front of you imitating how the lines would be delivered, but you'll get the gist.

Do you have a sewing machine? (strike pose and say ...) cuz I'm pretty sure I'm ripped.

Do you have a dictionary? (strike pose and say ...) cuz i need to look up this definition.

Do you smell smoke? (strike pose and say ...) Oh I'm sorry, it must be these guns.

Man, do I love people.

I had every intention on posting updates to my sight while away last week, but one thing stood between me and my site, all sites for that matter, the ever-advertised and always talked about JUNO. Until attempting to use their service via my parents' pc, I had never contemplated the meaning of their moniker. But after spending 20 minutes trying to get connected on three separate occasions and getting the warning from my mother that you can only connect after 11pm did I realize that juno stood for "JUNO nothing about the internet if you use this service." The sixty minutes I invested in trying to get connected to the net took five years off of my life, easy.

I am 99.9% certain if I did this I would do this. Hence, I have not done that.

if you lived in my world you would know that i just don't post enough geek humor on this site.

If Kathleen Madigan stops at a town near you, consider her a must see. I caught her show Saturday night and the woman who is often called the funniest 'female' comic in the country, may very well check in with the top 10 comics, gal or guy, in our illustrious and demanding nation sharing slots with the likes of carlin, miller, rock and seinfeld. Her unique delivery leaves you feeling as though you've just hung out with her at a party for an hour and she floored you with her valley drawl and self-deprecating tales.

The opening comic of the night, whose name evades me, actually painted the best image of the evening when he compared the water in a hot tub at a strip joint to the liquid aftermath of making a hot dog. If you've ever gazed into the murky swill left behind one of these phallic shaped burgers, you know exactly what he means.

One of my life mantras states that if it's memorable, it is your friend. Such was the case with an email I received last night in that it possessed one of my favorite sign-offs I've read in recent history.


Thanks for the added thought j-man and in the immortal words of one Sailor Ripley I reply, "Ahh, hell peanut."

A pal shared a story with me about a friend of their family who was a pilot for one of the major airlines. His route ran from St. Louis to New York and he regularly killed time in the big apple. One day while walking about town a young man bumped into him quite hard on the sidewalk of a crowded street. He briefly glared at the fellow but kept on. About ten paces later he instinctively patted his chest jacket for his wallet and found it to be gone. He whipped around and yelled at the kid who turned startled and when the very tall man, fully adorned in his pilot's outfit, began moving towards him, took off running. This stout and athletic bombardier soon caught up to the youth, pushed him against the wall and barked "The Wallet!!!" The kid immediately relinquished the item and the captain pocketed it and moved on impressed with his resolve to so readily correct the problem.

Later that day after returning to his hotel room, he began emptying his pockets and realized before dropping even the first item that he was staring down at his own worn and familiar wallet on the table which he apparently left behind. The story goes on that he later returned the victim's wallet, unaltered, in a manila envelope with no return address on it.

Now while the original conveyer of this tale seemed quite sincere, every time I tell it to someone, it greatly smacks of things that urban legends are made of. To date, I've never had anyone call me on it which typically happens with such tales, nor have I had someone else report hearing the scenario in regard to another friend of a distant relation. Regardless of its legitimacy, it stands as one of my favorite yarns.

I overheard a few teachers Marty works with reminiscing about some of the best pranks pulled in the school over the years. While many were fairly pedestrian, one stood out as the inspired work of a true craftsman. Several years back a rather anonymous student, who I will call Joe, informed one of his teachers, who I will call Mr. Kent, that his family was moving and the next day would be his last. For whatever reason, Mr. Kent devised a scheme and asked Joe and a fellow faculty member to participate.

On the following day in what would be Joe's last class (unbeknownst to all present), Mr. Kent entered the room with a principal in tow and advised the governing teacher that they needed to speak to Joe. Joe started frantically looking around and began pleading with his current teacher to not let them take him. The conspirators then went to Joe's seat and forcibly removed him while he white-knuckled the desk, not letting go. They ultimately tore him loose and carried him out of the room while he screamed and begged in protest. The door slammed shut as they exited and that was the last anyone ever saw of Joe.

As I said, the inspired work of a genius.

I started watching Party of Five in its second to last season. Soon after, I made the immense error in judgment of telling some guys that I had a romantic dream involving Claudia Salinger (Lacey Chabert). At the time I was watching the show, she was getting ready to go off for college. What I didn't realize was that for many true fans who have been with the show from the start, these guys included, Claud started as a precocious whelp of like 6 who used to sleep in a tent in the living room. They mentioned this to me amidst guffaws but the actual import of their mockery didn't hit until I caught a rerun where she was in this tent-phase. I immediately grasped the felonious appearance of my tale and immediately sought them out to retract and explain away my earlier confession hence putting the legend to rest. But being friends of mine and possessing a wicked sense of humor, years later I opened a wedding card to find the following memento inside.

Given my newfound pastime of dodging warm torrents of urine while trying to change a diaper, I thought the following Prolapsed article was rather fitting. Dr. Williams has enabled me to enter this secluded form of trench warfare with a light mind. You don?t know how appreciative I am Steven.