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Archives: Feb 2007

Celebrity gossip helps our nation

There was a time when celebrity gossip wasn’t the center of our universe. Granted, none of the cavemen or cavewomen from that era are still alive, but it existed. Or at least I hope it did. It’s hard to be sure without any living witnesses.

Even before Anna Nicole Smith decomposed and Britney Spears shaved her head for non-cancer related reasons, there was always gossip. The act of talking crap about others is hard-wired into our brains. Before we had outrageous blogs and tabloids, TV provided the latest celebrity news. Before television, we had front stoops where people gathered to talk trash about their neighbors. Before talking was invented, we just threw rocks at people we thought were scandalous.

Gossip was always big. It was the area of coverage that was small.

That’s not the case anymore. Many mornings I wake up and find myself asking questions like, “Who is this Bai Ling woman from China, and why are her nipples slipping?” or “Why is James Cameron in Jerusalem diggin’ for Jesus, and how long does he have before someone assassinates him? All John Lennon did was write a song about a world without heaven. I’d hate to think what they’ll do to someone who claims to actually find Jesus’ non-resurrected corpse.”

Tax tips for liars, scoundrels, and people who don’t like to work

February is that special time of year when lovers exchange gifts to show how much they care about each other. Since I’m a bit of an expert on Valentine’s Day, I’m going to give you a few tips that . . .

What? The fourteenth? Who the hell changed it to the fourteenth?

February is that special time of year when citizens and their government start deciding how much cash they owe each other. Since I’m a bit of an expert on the tax season, I’m going to give you a few tips that will help when the government punches you in the face and takes that hard-earned cash you were using to put food on the table for your starving children for Christ’s sake.

Here’s my tip: Run. Stop reading this column and just run. It’s only February. Taxes aren’t due until the middle of April. If you start running now, by the time they realize you’re a deadbeat, you’ll be so deep in the jungles of the Congo that they’ll never find you. By April 15th, you can amass a large enough army of Pygmy villagers to protect you from everyone except God.

My downstairs neighbor is a douche

My downstairs neighbor doesn’t like me very much. You’d think we’d have a few things in common since we’re the same age, but she seems to hate everything I enjoy. For instance, I love pounding nails into the wall late at night. Her? Not so much.

I also love playing basketball on my Nerf hoop. Sometimes I have friends over and we all play at once, slam dunking and elbowing each other into the walls. Even though it’s only a foam ball, it’s still pretty entertaining to watch. However, my neighbor hasn’t taken me up on my offer to come to our games. She just says “Blah blah blah very loud blah blah sounds like the hardwood floors are collapsing blah blah I’m frightened for my life blah blah.” Hey lady, it’s not my fault you don’t like sports.

Sometimes I have friends over, not to party, but just to hang out and talk. My neighbor isn’t much for talking. Or rather, she’s not much for other people talking. This is ironic, because she calls me up to talk all the time, though I guess she’s technically yelling, not talking. Maybe I should invite my friends over to shout instead. We could spend all night screaming normal conversations, like “COULD YOU PASS ME THE POTATO CHIPS THAT TASTE LIKE CHILI?” or “GEE, EDDIE MURPHY SURE IS LOUSY AT PICKING MOVIES TO ACT IN”. I bet she’d enjoy that.

I’ve been given a tour of the gay community

I’m a straight man, but I have a few gay friends. It’s always interesting when we hang out, because a straight man’s night out is very different from a night of gay clubbing. For instance, the women who hang out with gay men are very attractive, while the women who hang out with me look hideous from years of meth abuse.

Wayne, a member of the comedy troupe I’m in, recently had a birthday party. He’s gay, but he invited a considerable amount of straight friends out on the town with him for his birthday. What was intended as a fun night for him turned into a gay tour of sorts, with poor Wayne having to put up with all our ignorant questions.