Skip to content

Archives: Mar 2011

Beardyness is not for the weak, part two

Previously on The Beardy Douche Chronicles (working title, copyright pending):

Paul awakens and sits up in bed, startled.

Generously Breasted Redheaded Supermodel: What is it, Paul?

Paul: My hobo senses are tingling. Someone nearby wants to hire a temp!

Generously Breasted Redheaded Supermodel: But we’ve only made love seven times this morning. Can’t you stick around a bit longer?

Paul: Damn it, woman! Someone needs a temp!

Generously Breasted Redheaded Supermodel: It’s just answering the phone. Can’t they hire pretty much anyone? Don’t temps just spend the whole work day checking Facebook?

Paul: Yes to all of those questions.

Beardyness is not for the weak, part one

My friends and I are shooting our own TV pilot next weekend. We spent months writing a script, casting actors, and scouting locations, and we’ll spend the next month filming it. Then we’ll try to pitch it to an agent. Once we sell the script, we’ll move into the upper middle class tax bracket, blow all our thousands of dollars on SUVs, Adderall prescriptions and Beanie Babies, and commit suicide by throwing ourselves in front of a street sweeper.

But first we have to film it. Our show is a comedy about a homeless man who comes into an inheritance and has to learn to adjust to normal life again. It’s kinda like that 1980s movie “Walk Like A Man,” except ours doesn’t star Howie Mandel, so it’ll actually be funny.

Since I’m playing the part of the homeless man, I have to grow a beard. There are many things in life I’m good at – drinking, being handsome, tricking ladies into thinking I had a vasectomy, Navajo blanket weaving – but growing a beard is not a part of this list. Half my facial hair is blond and the other half is brown, so when I grow a beard, it appears as though I’m dying of some horrible disease.

Hey guys, I wrote an article about that Japanese disaster

Editor’s Note: Paul Ryan told us he was “reporting from the scene of the huge disaster” and filed this report, along with a list of expenses. It probably would have been wiser for us to read the column before paying the expenses. Frankly, after this article, we’re considering firing him anyway.

Devastation has covered Japan like a blanket, twisting and tightening, building pressure to a massive breaking point. The earthquake destroyed thousands of homes and roads, the tsunami obliterated anything fortunate enough to be left standing, and now a nuclear power plant is suffering a meltdown, threatening to turn Fukushima into a radioactive wasteland.

I turned on my television Friday to find footage of wreckage and huddled masses filling every channel, the unsettling images repeated over and over. Every network was unified in offering sympathy for the people of this small but vibrant country. It was truly a unique event in history. Even the CW network was covering the news.

Things I’d rather do than discuss Charlie Sheen

– Remove my own eyeball with a plastic spoon.

– Take a poop in front of every girl I’ve ever had a crush on in my entire life.

– Personally bathe every protestor at the Wisconsin Capitol building.

– Join Wisconsin Governor Scott Walker for a “seven minutes in heaven” session in a legislative building janitor closet.

– Voluntarily eat at a Denny’s restaurant.

– Agree to perform in a three hour Agatha Christie play where I have to be onstage the entire time, and shart my pants in the first five minutes.

– Buy a house in Libya.