Monthly Archives: December 2004


I saw an ad on TV this morning for BOD body spray, and it got me thinking about how I’ve seen this product for a long time now, and they’ve got to be selling it because they’re shelling out money for real ads on real television stations, which means that there are thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions of people who are picking up those plastic bottles with the spritzer gun nozzle and thinking “Hmmm, this smells GOOOOD! I should wear this this weekend. I’m going to smell GOOOOOD!” Well, I wish those losers just as much of a Merry Christmas as I’m wishing everyone else. I hope they got lots of bottles of BOD in their stockings.

Speaking of body sprays, have you seen the new commercial for AXE? It’s actually pretty funny. It shows all these girls grinding up against various shiny metal objects (caressing a toaster, rubbing a frying pan over their bodies, pushing up against a sheet metal wall at a construction site). Then they show this guy putting on AXE but the can runs out so he throws the empty can in the recycling bin. Get it? There’s AXE juice all over all the metal that gets used in other stuff. It gets really gross when you think about it for too long, though, because it means that the recycling process doesn’t include any kind of cleaning or sterilization, and so those women are getting turned on by the AXE and rubbing themselves with appliances and whatever, but they’re also rubbing up against old peanut butter and tomato sauce and bacon grease and the oil from a can of tuna and stuff like that.

This is a post that says basically that Worker #3116 has a deep-chested, wet cough, and a red, chapped nose, but otherwise he’s back.

Morgan Freeman, Take Me Now!

When I got to work this morning, clutching my little Pharmacy Store bag of Cold Remedies (bag includes Fisherman Friend, Echinasha, honey, tea, and nose sprayz) in one hand, and pulling my collar tight with the other, I found that someone had put the MTV ULTIMATE MASHUPS PRESENTS JAY-Z VS. LINKIN PARK on my desk. This is no fever dream. Who would do this? WHO HAS DONE THIS?!

I’m in no mood to be fucked with. Last night I woke up over a million thousand times with the coughing, sneezing, wheezing, so I can’t sleep no medicine. Why won’t anyone take care of me? I’m literally dying here. You think I’m joking? In my hazy state of near-death last night I watched Bruce Almighty starring Jimminy Fucking Carrey and thought it “wasn’t so bad”. I saw Morgan Freeman playing GOD and declared it acceptable.

One more day of this and I quit it.

No Comment (Freestyle Remix)

Eminem: Slim Shady World Uncut (2001)

This animated series gives rapper Eminem yet another outlet for his genius, this time as his alter ego, Slim Shady. His cartoon identity is even more fearless than he is, saying what he truly thinks and doing what he truly wants and setting the world ablaze. Watch him slap down some rhymes and riff on everything from unruly celebrities to living life under the blazing limelight. Extras include a lost episode, a making-of featurette and more.

Sick Day 2

I’m so sorry, babies.

Well, I’ve got bad news and I’ve got bad news. The bad news is that I’m sick, and I hate being sick, and if I hate something you better believe it’s only a matter of time before YOU hate something, if only for the fact of having to hear about it all the time. The bad news is that Brother Russia is in town for the first time in two years and I’m sick. When Brother Russia is in town you want to offer up your a-game, but an a-game can’t just be pulled out of thin air, especially when the thin air has a sore throat and is coughing up gobs of phlegm.

Anyhow, there are a few things that I would like to make veiled reference to in regards to the past few days so that they do not disappear into the abyss of lost time. I’m not going to spend a lot of time on these things, they are more for my benefit than yours, so feel free to skip them.

CroxxOverz was a great success. L’Hill and I made 6.50 each in tips, about a dollar and fifty of which came from that pituitary-case asshole who kept talking about Norwegian death metal, but who, when Moses asked him about some actual band, proved to have no idea what he was talking about. Nevertheless, a relatively successful night, despite the fact that I was feeling a little under the weather, and almost dropped that weird, angular bottle of VOX a couple times while trying out my new Cocktail-style bottle flipping.

Garfield: The Movie is a terrible movie, and Roger Ebert was seriously not on his meds the day that he said the casting of the movie was “inspired”. That word would be better used in the context of “Garfield: The Movie will inspire you to violence.” Mental Note in the form of a Diary Note for the future: Must find another pop-culture icon who hates Mondays and loves lasagna, because the basic premise of the “I Hate Mondays” party was good. Also, try not to be sick next time, it makes you no fun.

What Matters

Well, the “cat” is out of the “bag” where here “cat” is “internet diary” and “bag” is “now Clown Coffee knows about my internet diary.” It is going to be very hard to write things about him but I have overcome greater obstacles including, but not limited to, disease.

But now for something about people who really matter, celebrities:


THE catfight between Hilary Duff and Lindsay Lohan is back on. The teen queens declared their undying hatred for each other after they simultaneously dated Aaron Carter, but at last Friday’s Z100 Jingle Ball, Duff took the feud up a notch when she got her boyfriend to make Lohan’s little brother cry. Lohan, at the concert to introduce Destiny’s Child, was with her brother Cody, 8, Cody’s pal (also 8), her sister Ali, 10, and her mother, Dina. “Cody and his friend love Good Charlotte, who were playing, and they really wanted an autograph from the band,” our source reports. But when the boys and a Universal publicist knocked on the dressing room door, there was Duff sitting on the lap of Good Charlotte band member Joel Madden, whom she’s dating. Told that one boy was Lohan’s brother, Duff whispered to Madden, who snapped: “Get me your mother!” When Dina got to the dressing room, Madden told her: “Until your daughter publicly apologizes to [Hilary], you’re not getting any autographs!” According to our spy, “Cody started crying, he was so upset. Dina was just appalled.” A rep for Lohan declined comment. A rep for Duff said, “Hilary was not even near Joel’s dressing room all night.”
(New York Post)

This simply proves that the only thing suckier than Good Charlotte’s music is their personality. Come on, Good Charlotte, he is 8 years old. You are 9. Be a “man”. When the relationship sours, though, and Good Charlotte thinks that Hilary Duff is a slut and a jerk, he’s going to start sending everyone in Lohan’s family all kinds of autographs. That will show Duff. She will be so shown.


When someone in an office wants to ask you something, you can hear it coming a “mile” away. So when a woman’s going up and down the halls asking everyone if they want a tangelo, you can just barely wonder whether you have time to look up tangelo in the dictionary because what the fuck is a tangelo? before she gets to you. But you don’t have time and then she gets to your cubicle and is like “tangelo?” which you totally knew she was going to ask but you’re unprepared, and then you’re like “um, what the f is a tangelo?” And she’s like, “You know, a tangerine-orange thing. They’re good.” You take one, and then she tells someone about how as she was leaving the house this morning her mother pointed at a bag of tangelos and said “get those out of here,” and now she’s just glad to be free of the tangelos, but something about this story gives you pause, because the woman is in her mid-thirties, and she should not see her mother in the morning, and her mother should no longer tell her what to do. When someone comes in late, she goes over to them and tells them that she had some tangelos, but the late person missed out. Now if some tangelo whatever the fuck from some woman who lives with her mom and her uncle offered at nine in the morning isn’t incentive enough to get to work on time…

Last night in the locker room at the gym I saw a doo-rag on the floor. Poor doo-rag. I wanted to take it to the doo-rag “lost and found” but I knew that I’d never be able to see the door. It is invisible to whites.

Meanwhile, today is all about Christmas spirit. I have so much of it. You should see me! You should see my sweater! Fly Donner! Fly Blixen! Fly Juden!