Last Brokeback Mountain Post For February
I feel like I have really held back. And if this thing wins an Oscar next week, all Hell will break loose on the humor front. But I am done for now.
However, in case you are just catching up, see all of the Brokeback Mountain parodies here.
Someone sent me a copy of this picture from the Gateway theater in Ft. Lauderdale. I guess the owners decided to get right to the heart of the matter and have an all gay movie night. So I went to the website and copied the actual showtime schedule and - presto - humor ensues. It's good when the job is this easy.
Why You Don't Want To Marry Eva Longoria
Because she is waiting to let herself go. Probably so is your chick. We know all women secretly think this, but to come right out and say it in public is reprehensible. You don't see me out in public talking about boning Angelina Jolie during the filming of Cyborg 2 or accidentally breaking up Scarlett Johannsen's relationship. Oh wait, yes you do. Well, that's different because my comments don't cut right to the heart of man-woman relationships; namely that your chick is just waiting to get fat.
Says Eva: "I think I’m putting on weight because I’m in love and I don’t need to try any more.". I mean, JESUS CHRIST, what kind of thing is that to say, even as a joke? Do I tell my little woman, "Hey I am in love so I will stop Nairing my forest of back hair - and you can just forget about me showering every third day now"? No, I do not say it. That's an implied expectation but have some friggin' courtesy. Couples lying to each other about trying to please each other forever is a time-honored tradition and some traditions just shouldn't disappear.
So Eva can pretend she will be 5'2" and 90 lbs. forever and I can pretend Halle Berry doesn't want to have my baby. At least for another 7 months.
The Endorsement: Ultimate Avengers
Every good movie these days comes from a comic book anyway so why not just go ahead and watch a comic book? Avengers #4 has to go down as one of the penultimate events in the Marvel Universe and Ultimate Avengers streamlines a sometimes convoluted comic book history into one terrific story by starting there and never letting up. You get Captain America kicking the snot out of Nazis in World War II, The Hulk turning against his friends, and Thor looking like ... well, me.
If you haven't acquired your copy yet, you are missing out. Should you need me, I will be the one awake all night watching it over and over and wondering how come I don't have a cool shield with a star in the middle.
Note to self: invent super serum, get cool shield, and pick up French Vanilla coffee creamer on the way home.
I Told You The New James Bond Was a Wuss
It was only Sienna Miller's career-enhancing vagina that got him the job anyway. After she dumped him, they couldn't even get a b-list actress to star alongside the guy, so they settled for some crazy French bag lady and then he broke his teeth trying to be a man.
Not enough proof he is a nancy-boy? Turns out he can't even drive an Aston-Martin. Because he doesn't know how to drive a stick-shift.
Sheesh. I turned down being The Shadow ( though we saw how that turned out for them ) and Matthew McConaughey beat me out for Dirk Pitt only because he provided weed. If they make a Travis McGee movie without me, I am going ape-shit.
Though what do you think about remaking My Name Is Nobody, only with me as Nobody and Tom Selleck as Jack Beauregard? I bet it could work.
Best Reason To Watch American Idol
No, it's not to see Simon Cowell and Paula Abdul have sex, though he seems willing. It's to see these O'Donohue twins. Only one of them is competing because the other one seems to have had some kind of throat surgery. Wait ... I am supposed to like the one who can't sing LESS than the one competing? I doubt that. If I had my way, all women would have to get approval from me before they could even talk, much less sing. And none of them could wear jeans without my express permission.
And no emo haircuts. Ever.
See the O'Donohues from their 2004 Maxim shoot here. And the only picture that is important is this one, because they are wearing cool outfits:
Need To Learn Fractals? Get Cornrows!
There's some modern school of thought that says you have to be 'culturally relevant' to teach students, like students in New York City won't get it if you use a mathematical example that involves counting trees. So if you want your students to learn fractal geometry you have to use corn row hair braids to make your point. Take this, for example:
"Each braid is represented as multiple copies of a "Y" shaped plait. In each iteration, the plait is copied, and a transformation is applied. The series of transformed copies creates the braid."
Now, honestly, does any kid who can understand that sentence need to be talked down to and given culturally relevant examples about corn rows? I bet not.
But, hey, I don't mind occasionally taking the easy road so I have already ordered my motorized ice cream cone. Yes, I am that lazy. Months ago I even outsourced my video gaming to Asia. And pretty much my whole life.
But not the sex part of it - well, not completely. To get excited, I just watch this Japanese woman breast feed her cat. But don't tell the little woman. It can be our dirty secret.
Why You Don't Need Jessica Simpson
Because this dancing Jessica Simpson is actually more fun than the real Jessica Simpson would be. Just move your mouse around and she - yes - dances. So you can enjoy her prosthetic butt without actually having to hear her talk.
And, while you're there making Jessica Simpson dance like a hot little sock monkey, check out sneak attack photos of people having sex in cars.
Finally, because "Brokeback Mountain" is so topical I have even had it three times this week on my blog, you should know that pirated DVDs of the movie made it to Turkey before the official release. And here is the title they went with:
What does that mean in Turkce talk, if you're not up on your Turkic/Mongolian-derived languages like I am? You guessed it: "Faggot Cowboys." Thanks to spearhead.com for the picture and iyi akshamlar to all the rest of you.
Don't Make Your Woman Angry
I've made plenty of women angry. Heck, I have made an art form of it, partly because I am like the Air Traffic Control of crazy women. But in all the homocidal rages I have incurred in women from 9 countries on 3 continents, I have never actually had a woman stab me because I wouldn't have sex with her. Sure, I could understand it if they are a little petulant, maybe even downright heartbroken - my sweet lovin' is that good. But so far, except for my chick throwing my signed Joe DiMaggio baseball through a window I have been pretty lucky.
But you can't be too careful, so I placed my order for a cool science fiction space suit. It's as supple as I am but as hard as armor like ... well, like I am. So I am now ready for a lifetime of romance. Why is my little twinkie so lucky? Because as we grow older she will look more and more like me.
In Case You Ever Have To Choose Between Toilet Water and Ice
Well, in a restaurant in Florida, that is - which should you go for? This slightly unscientific survey says choose the toilet water. Who did the study? Jasmine Roberts, a 12 year old girl in Florida, that's who. And we all take our guidance from pre-teen girls. When she's 30, she can be my toilet monkey. Until then, she should keep her yap shut. I will use the ice if I want, no matter how filthy it is.
But I don't need ice because I have stories about Robin Williams to keep me warm. He was at Scores West getting lap dances until 5AM. Did you even know Robin Williams was not gay? I didn't. Oh, wait. Scores girl Katherine said, "I was trying to dance for him, but he kept making me laugh by making funny faces and noises." Yep, definitely gay.
I can't figure out that Robin Williams but then again I can't figure out why the Spanish Flu, the epidemic that killed 50 million people in 1918/9, was known as French Flu in Spain. Or why one in 18 people has a third nipple.
But I'm not here to make judgments, unless it's deciding that the title of the sequel to "Brokeback Mountain" should be
Decide for yourself.
President's Day Good Humor
More Brokeback Mountain ridicule ... this time goofing on Star Wars. If you're more of a basketball fan, laugh about Gonzaga University and how they demoralize their opponents by calling them the cowboys of 2005. And if you like Brokeback parodies dealing with forbidden love between cowboys and horses, go here. And you're a perv.
If you don't want to laugh about gay cowboys, you can laugh about a guy who steals doorknobs. And hear him talk about stealing other stuff with actual value only because he was embarrassed about his doorknob fetish. I prefer more traditional American fetishes - like midget porn.
Ever wonder if your significant other is lying about their number of partners? I admit I lied. No woman wants to date someone with as few partners as me. Being a Tibetan Monk sounds like a great way to get laid, but it isn't.
Finally, I am not the first one to make this prediction but I will make it the loudest and the most often: the new James Bond is a pussy.
Why The Winter Olympics Are Crap
The Italians created Olympic cheerleaders. And you know what I think of cheerleaders.
See video for your giggling enjoyment here.
Why the Olympics at least have a shred of respectability:
Russian Figure Skating champ Anna Semenovich on the left, Gretchen Bleiler on the right and a big hell yeah to Tanith Belbin in the middle.
I didn't forget Carla Bruni from the opening ceremony, but she got her own whole post here.
Paris Hilton Is Like Mother Teresa - Only Naked
This is twice in a week that I don't even need to make a joke for my posts to be funny. Be shocked and amazed at an odd casting idea here. And thank you to David Hasselhoff and Paris Hilton for making my job so easy.
Director T. Rajeevnath said he was impressed when he read a report in which the hotel heiress said she had refused to pose nude in Playboy and decided to see about casting her in his biopic. Let me see if I understand this; not posing nude for money made her qualified to play Mother Teresa? What about the 38 million pictures of her naked available for free on the internet? So just for science I Googled 'Paris Hilton nude' again and this time my computer made some kind of horrid, screeching noise and shut off. And then I got a cornea transplant. I tell you, some sacrifices are too great to make just so you can be entertained on my blog.
I'm all for famewhores like Paris Hilton but I am not sure what she is thinking when she turns down Playboy and then gets naked in bars for free. If you're anything like me, or any of 3 billion other men out there, you spend a great deal of time wondering what women are thinking and why it seems to make no sense. They do studies on symptoms, of course, but no real studies on causes. This study, for example, tells us that married South Korean are the least happy with their sex lives. I believe that. I have been to Seoul plenty of times and I can barely sleep at night because all of the married Korean women knocking on my hotel door begging for orgasms. And Cheez-Doodles. But that doesn't explain much about why these women are so unhappy or why most women make no sense. It only tells us something about the size of Korean mens' penises.
Brett Ratner of Rush Hour directing fame, got so upset by an argument with his date he had to be rushed to the hospital. This guy can take the stress of helming a $100 million motion picture but he can't figure out his chick's moods without paramedics on stand-by.
Heck, Simon Cowell is even willing to sleep with Paula Abdul to keep the peace on American Idol.
Men's Health and I come to the rescue. How am I helping? By telling you the four distinct phases in a man/woman relationship so you can react accordingly once you know where you are. For further wisdom, consult A Physicist's Guide To Relationships. Because we all know that love is a matter of chemistry and sex is a matter of physics. And no one ever left a relationship because the sex was good.
The four phases to a successful relationship:
1) She is dazzled by your great physique, good looks and charm.
2) She is overwhelmed by your passion and sense of romance.
3) She takes you for granted because she is insecure and self-destructive so you dump her.
4) She spends the rest of her life trying to get you back.
See? Isn't that simple? You can even carry this in your wallet to show to her when she is unsure which phase she is in.
Oh yeah, and they help too. For their part, they did this handy article on exactly what is going on inside womens' heads. It details what a girl was thinking the first time she met a guy, before their first date, etc. It's invaluable.
But not as invaluable as my blog.
Points To Ponder
This picture of Stacy Kiebler is why my chick is getting boots this weekend. And yours should too.
They discovered some lost Mayan ruins from space. It's the same technology they used in order to ... wait for it, wait for it ... yes, the same technology they used in order to count the number of women waiting to offer me their vaginas.
Batman is finally going to kick Al Qaeda's butt. And since Frank Miller is writing it, and since he did the only good batman comics ever, which means he was responsible for the only good Batman movie ever, you know it will be ... ummm ... good.
Welcome to 1972! Turns out abortions at home are safe after all. There are so many jokes in here that I think my brain short-circuited.
Chris Martin's pants hate him as much as you do. It can't be more. And this, just in case you need more reasons to hate Coldplay.
Finally, if you are bulimic and need a new reason to vomit, a sex tape featuring that guy from Creed and Kid Rock will be available soon.
Who Knew Canadians Had Sex?
I didn't. Heck, I thought we bought them for the parking a while ago but it turns out they are still a country. And it turns out they do have sex, only it's with themselves. According to this study, young Canadians prefer virtual sex. Now, I've been to Canada and therefore I have seen Canadian women, so I can understand why men prefer not to have sex with Canadian women in person. I was just surprised that Canadian men were still pretending to be men. Didn't they vote for Paul Martin a few years ago? That costs you some manliness points right there.
Why do it this way? According to this study, taken among thousands of Canadian students, the internet is a "social lubricant." I am not sure taking a bunch of nerdy kids with no social skills and then having them get all of their sex via computer is actually socially lubricating their lives.
Of course, I am more of a traditionalist so I have always believed in giving women lubricants like alcohol and cocaine. Let me tell you, nothing lubricates women like a queso fresco cheese-sized block of cocaine. Other students use the anonymity "to explore sex in ways they wouldn't in real life."
Wait, so if some Canadian girl gets me hopped up on deviant sex she isn't going to ever actually do it with me? What is the point of this again?
53% of respondents had achieved sexual gratification while just typing. 44% of respondents had made love via webcam or phone. Okay, now we are getting somewhere. Then you are at least approaching porn, which as we all know is a healthy, normal way to get off by yourself.
Preferred position by the respondents? The pet-friendly doggy style. So at least Canadians got something right. That way I have a place to put my coffee.
David Hasselhoff Again
What happened to Australia? Weren't they once the country of loose women, plentiful booze and cute little kangaroos that box? What is this sudden fixation with "The Hoff?" Because their credibility has dropped a lot.
And Hoff? What were you thinking when the advertising people said, "We liked your last ad for Pepsi but it just wasn't gay enough" ?
Did you simply reply, "How about if I get on a swing and scream like a pre-school girl? Would that be gay enough?"
Because if you did, they then said, "Yes. Yes it would." And this ad was born.
I haven't giggled this much since The Hoff claimed he was responsible for the fall of the Berlin Wall.
Heidi Klum Is Not Grabbing My Butt This Valentine's Day
But she is probably grabbing Seal's. Again.* I don't understand how I get 72% of the votes for 'best butt' on my blog and he gets Heidi Klum. That guy is my greatest foe. Well, he and Scott Baio.
Do you think it's because when I took the "Which Star Trek character are you?" test I ended up too much like Kirk? I should have known she would be a Picard girl.
If you don't have someone to spend Valentine's Day with, perhaps you just aren't understanding the signals, so here is a handy guide on understanding flirting in various countries. Should you have a girl and be taking her out to dinner because she is not grabbing Seal's butt ( again ), here are some hints on Dating Etiquette 101 and, for those awkward lulls in conversation, a brief history of Valentine's Day. I advise you to leave out your usual rant about how this is all marketing and just endure the crowded restaurants and bad food. I won't have to put up with restaurants, but my chick doesn't expect much from me. She's just pleased when I don't pull out too many strands of her hair dragging her over to the couch and when I really try to aim stuff away from her eyes. She’s pretty easy going that way.
My final piece of advice. No matter how much she wants to have sex, do not put a pencil up your penis. Things will go bad quickly. Trust me on this one.
*Number of times I have referenced Heidi Klum grabbing Seal's butt: 3.
Number of times my butt has been grabbed by my chick: 0.
% chance my chick can take a hint: apparently not high.
How Not To Get Sex On Valentine's Day
I got hopped up on insurance recently, probably due to the fact that I changed companies about two years ago and recently discovered that, should I die in a horrific flaming car wreck surrounded by large-breasted women with Bonepony's "Stomp Revival" in all 6 slots of my 6-slot CD changer, their insurance policy on me doesn't pay squat.
Why would family members cut the brakes to my car if there's nothing to inherit? I can't expect to be liked on personality alone so 'inheritance' is something I want my kin to be muttering when they think about me.
Insurance policies require blood tests and such and they sent a nice lady over to see me to handle all of that. Sweety asks me how it went.
"I guess it was fine," I say.
"What was your blood pressure?"
"That's normal, right?"
"I am never sure. On charts it shows 120/80 and down is normal but 120-139 is pre-hypertension. Either way, I think I am okay."
"What else do they do?"
"They take a blood sample and a urine sample."
"Did it hurt?"
"The urine sample? No, she held it very gently."
Silence. I know what is happening; she is giving me the look. As if it works over the phone. You know what look I mean. The look that is supposed to tell me it is Valentine's Day. Like I don't know. I am the one who had to go to Target to buy her that $4 box of candy.
"24 hours. That's all I ask." She says. She means 24 hours without a reference to another woman's vagina or sex acts with other women. Especially deviant sex acts involving urine. Even as a joke.
"But if I stop making those jokes today you'd just expect it again tomorrow."
"You are not around that much. I just want to see if you can do it for one day."
Thus I have decided that, in the spirit of romance, I will make the effort. So here you go, people. 24 hours of humor without reference to supermodels, vaginas or cocaine.
Sweety, I hope you are happy. I won't make my $.05 on Google AdSense today because those jokes are the only reason people bother to read my blog.
How To Demoralize A Basketball Team
The only thing worse than the mafia is a gay, Jewish mafia. It combines all of the worst things about any society; violence, repressed sexuality and difficult mothers with blue hair. I warned you about Hollywood's gay Jewish mafia in 2002. Because I was shocked at what they did to fellow homosexual Jewish Hollywood mogul Michael Ovitz, what with stealing his boyfriend and getting all up in his business and stuff.
So maybe they thought they would advance their secret mafia cause by making a movie about gay cowboys that wasn't even a comedy but it seems to be backfiring on them, no matter how many awards they give it and no matter how many girls tell me the scene where the one gay cowboy tears off his jeans to mount the other gay cowboy is really hot.
Gonzaga University, a fine, small school that has recently become a big basketball powerhouse, has had to ask its students to stop referring to opponents as "Brokeback Mountain." Because they think it is bad that young people use homosexual innuendo to disrupt the morale of the opposing basketball team. Basketball is war, people, and nothing brings out the berserker rage like repressed homosexuality. And, really, what's the harm? I once sat and watched two friends go at each other with "You play basketball like a girl" and then "No, you play basketball like a girl" and its many variations for 8 straight hours. This is why I was in wrestling instead. There is nothing less gay than wrestling.
You'd think Hollywood would be thanking Gonzaga students for all of the free publicity. But no, they resent that they have become part of the American lexicon - namely the part of the American lexicon that refers to homosexual fairy-boys who can't hoop.
Scientists Discover An Underwater UPS Truck from 2300 Years Ago And Other Shipping News
The best stuff happens with Greeks. An undersea robot has discovered a Greek ship from 350 BC containing ceramic jars of olive oil, wine and whatever else Greek ships carried back then. Imagine that advertising slogan: "We deliver in six weeks or it's free!" We know that buried ship isn't carrying the head of Medusa because Teri Hatcher is wearing it on her neck:
And to add to the goodness that is Greece, archeologists have discovered a huge ancient tomb from 400 BC. Except for pictures of
Back to the US and shipping, I got Netflix in 1999 because I thought it was a good idea. And they were good to early customers. But I dropped them two years ago because they are scamming you with their shipping policies. Told ya.
If you want to ship your children to Hong Kong Disneyland, I discourage you from simply throwing them over the fences and into the park. No matter how badly you may want to.
Back to our regularly scheduled humor later today. And tomorrow is Valentine's Day so be prepared for the knowledge that Heidi Klum will not be grabbing your butt again this year.
Desperate Housewives Revisited
It's no secret that I think Felicity Huffman is a drag queen but that Marcia Cross is surprisingly hot. Teri Hatcher may look like Medusa once in a while, but she is hot in pretty much everything except Tomorrow Never Dies and she most especially looked hot in Seinfeld.
However, let's give a special endorsement for the notion that sometimes you just gotta mix it up and see what sticks. Like Eva Longoria. If you examine closely she is short, her hair is sorta clunky and she has a big head. But somehow when you put it all together, good things happen. On tonight's Desperate Housewives episode she saunters around in her underwear for an entire scene and she looked so amazing I think my kidney burst. Or had a transplant. Or whatever kidneys do. Anyway, her hotness was that powerful. But you all know I am not much for short brunettes. Or brunettes. Or short anythings. So I figured I needed to sleuth her a bit and find out if she had some redeeming quality that would tip the scales in her favor, like she was secretly a superhero or she had a fetish for physics gurus.
Lo and behold I discover this statement from a Cosmopolitan magazine article in which she revealed that her favorite gift to all of her hot friends is vibrators. That's right, Eva Longoria, hot friends and vibrators.
So now I have a newfound respect for Eva and I have given her my coveted Science Star Award.
Women We Love: Carla Bruni
I am betting I am the first person I know to listen to Carla Bruni and get a silly amount of enchanted over her - but I know I wasn't the last. I heard her in Italy and, crazy me, didn't have time to buy it there so I had to get it as an import. But endure the hassle because she is worth it.
Why is she so spectacular? Because, my friends, it's not just that she can sing. She is also a ridiculously hot supermodel. Can you imagine Kate Moss making music like this? Only if she were Italian and happened to speak impeccable French. In other words, I don't think so. Kate Moss can't even make a decent lunch. Trust me, I know.
I mentioned her last in 2004. Why bring it up again? Well, I ended up watching the opening ceremonies of the Winter Olympics last night ( don't ask ) and I felt myself becoming more and more gay with each passing moment. Finally, they brought out Carla Bruni in the Italian contingent and I noticed within seconds my heterosexuality was completely restored.
So thanks Carla. For being such a great singer you haven't left my CD-changer in 18 months and for pretty much being hot enough that you could kill a homeless man and get away with it if you wanted to.
Why Did It Take Me So Long To Make Fun Of Britney Spears?
When a singer I have never listened to causes a fiasco on a TV show I have never watched, well, that's a joke waiting to happen. Some people claim Britney Spears was once hot. I have no idea.
If she were hot, why would she appear on a show only gay men watch? Isn't that what killed Cher's career?
And Ultimate Avengers: The Movie comes out February 21st. If you don't order it, you're more of a crazy person than Britney Spears.
David Hasselhoff Saves My Friday
Some days I worry there won't be enough funny stuff happening for me to get in a quality post and entertain the millions who visit my blog.
I shouldn't worry. All I need to do is Google 'David Hasselhoff' and something good is bound to show up, like him having a hit record in Germany or his own hair. But this Pepsi advertisement for Australia is a huge bonus.
Now, I am not sure what he is doing here but I bet you all have some ideas. Come on, this is an easy one. You can make fun of the advertisment, him and Australia all in one shot. And Crocodile Dundee. Those jokes are always funny too. But not Linda Kozlowski. She was the only reason to watch that movie.
The Second Best Way To Enjoy The Super Bowl
Okay, say you can't travel to Detroit and hang out with stripper and alcohol connoisseur Tommy Lee during Super Bowl weekend. And further say you were busy and only have 14 minutes to find out what happened during the entire game, including commercials.
Welcome to Hart & Larsson, who filmed a girl named Andrea watching the Super Bowl, doing play by play and living her life during the epic battle between the greatest team in the NFL and someone else.
She uses a fake chicken and a ceramic doll to show you the position of the teams on the field, she eats snacks, she holds up placards during commercials to rate their enjoyment factor ( "Effective", "Entertaining", "A Waste of $2.5 Million"), she paints on her wall. She even does a half-time show with lights and everything. This is sheer cinematic poetry.
Oh yeah, and she changes clothes. A lot. And has a decent butt. That's right, just this once I am recommending a movie without any nudity.
Don't get used to it.
Watch a hot chick watch the Super Bowl in 14 minutes here.
When Can We Just Call It Sex Day?
If there's one thing I know, it's what God meant when he created the Easter Bunny. Somewhere in there the Easter Bunny became associated with religion and when you add religion to things, you get alcohol-and-sex-fueled holidays. The holiday we are talking about today is the really fun period in Catholicism right before you have to give up stuff until you get Easter eggs 6 weeks later. Let's call the giving up stuff part "Lent" and the fun part before that "Brazil."
Brazil is, technically, a Catholic nation. Like all Catholic nations, this means you should give away 25,000,000 condoms for a religious event though the Church doesn't believe in birth control.
Now, I am all for two things; birth control and inconsistency. Just not at the same time. I always pick one or the other. One time Sweety asked me about this:
SHE: Let me see if I understand this. You won't use birth control, we can't live together before marriage and you never eat meat on Fridays but you'll let me use birth control and we can have buckets of pre-marital sex.
ME: Check. And sodomy, if you're making a list.
SHE: How is that possible again?
ME: Well, I figure you're going to Hell anyway so I might as well let you use birth control. And I can't take Communion because of the pre-marital sex thing. So I suffer too.
You can imagine that logic train never left her station. So back to Brazil. They are going to give away 1 billion free condoms in 2006 as part of their 'acclaimed' anti-AIDS program. Who acclaims it? The government giving away the condoms, of course. The Church is worried that if they give away a lot of condoms, people will have more sex.
Not me. You think they're giving away Durex XXLs? I bet not.
Because You Don't Have Time To Objectify Women
You have me to do it for you. And, oh yeah, AskMen.com. They did a handy Top Women of 2005 ranking a while ago but it was suspect because it lacked Jaime Pressly anywhere on it. They have at least corrected their gaffe this year, but they only corrected it because they made this list the most desirable women of 2006. I can only think of one woman more desirable than Jaime and if she is on anyone's list I want them caught and shot now.
Jaime comes in at number 63 on their most desirable women of 2006 list , which means the men who voted have not seen Poison Ivy: The New Seduction or any of her other fine films.
I am including their handy top 10 list here. I don't agree with most of them but the ones that were truly offensive I crossed out and replaced with the choices they should have made.
2. Sienna Miller
7. Jessica Biel
Okay, I only agreed with two of their picks. Sienna Miller makes the list because she is the kind of hottie nutcase you can't help but get excited about. And Jessica Biel has a face like a horse but she has a body so hot I think an angel dies every time I look at it for too long. Some of you will argue about Jessica Alba at number one. Heck, even her Into The Blue costar, Paul Walker, sat down with Complex magazine and had this to say about her:
"Come on, dude, you know what I'm looking at. I couldn't take my eyes off that ass. I'm sorry. She's beautiful. And she's such a pain in my ass, too. But that's what I love about her. She's the kind of girl you just want to have angry sex with for the rest of your life because it's just that good."
Paul is clearly a man of refined intellect. But he doesn't know women.
I'm with him on the angry sex thing though. Here's a conversation I had with my chick when she was angry at me for something ridiculous, like wrecking Scarlett Johansson's relationship a short while ago.
SHE: Why in the world would you cheat on me with some ditzy actress and then write about it ... on your public blog?
ME: I didn't cheat on you. I only nailed her.
SHE: Do you not see that is the worst possible answer?
ME: Sorry, yes, that wasn't appropriate. "Nailed" was not a very considerate way to phrase it. I meant I only "nailed love to" her.
And then she threw my Joe DiMaggio signed baseball through a window and left in a huff. But I got my angry sexy later. Because I was pissed about that window.
The Only Reason To Watch TV
I told you Stacy Kiebler was going to be a star a long time ago. Because if there's one thing I know, it's women with legs longer than my car.
Not only is she genuinely nice - in point of fact, I have never met a professional wrestler, male or female, without impeccable manners and courtesy - but she can shake it in a way crazy lumps of untalented grease like J-Lo only wish they could.
But you're reading this blog so you know I know what I am talking about. It isn't as ridiculous as Colin Farrell getting rehab advice from Kate Moss or the Spice Girls having a reunion tour without Sporty Spice. I just haven't had any feelings for Posh Spice since I found out she has plastic jubblies.
Winter In Detroit
Well, you know when you get me, Detroit and brisk winter weather, things are going to happen. Add in Tommy Lee and it had to be a little crazy.
Now, I was there for the football and without question my boys came through at the end. So not only did I predict that the Steelers are the greatest team in the NFL and why, I predicted they would beat the spread. And I would much rather have hung out with Hank Williams, Jr. and Kid Rock, but Tommy Lee turned out to be a pleasant surprise.
I was never a glam rock guy - I was in ROTC so they wouldn't let me grow my hair while that sum'bitch Reagan was in The White House. And Heather Locklear was nowhere near as hot as my chick when Heather Locklear was young much less now, so I think I have Tommy Lee beat all the way around. Unless he's one heck of a scientist. But we stumbled across him at The Flight Club in Detroit and he recognized us because he had been at The Landing Strip too. So he bought us a drink - and since he was paying, I ordered a Macallan 18-year old Scotch, neat with a water back. And drank precisely none of it. But I looked cool holding it. I was tempted to ask about his keen interest in Absinthe and hookers but it was pretty obvious from where we met him that he is a connoisseur of both. Some questions just don't need to be asked.
So if you were face-to-face with Tommy Lee, what would you ask? About that video with Pamela Anderson? No way. I saw three seconds of that video and said, "These two are in love so that is just wrong to watch." Because I like my porn to be amongst professionals. Or involving me. Otherwise, I don't want it at all. Would you ask about the tattoos? I have none and he has a gazillion so that's one topic I can't converse about. Well, I wasn't stumped like you are. I asked him about his canoodling with a transvestite in Toronto.
I says to Tommy, "Tommy, if there's one thing I know it's transvestite strippers. As your attorney I would strongly advise that you take me along - for your own protection - next time."
"Cash, dude," says Tommy, "You could not have known. That Nina dude was one convincing chick." And then he thinks about it for a minute. "How the f*** did you hear about that anyway?"
Well, what can I do? Go to a PC and show him my blog? I did happen to have my Dell Axim X51 in my pocket and I could have shown him everything he ever wanted to know about Thai transvestite hookers but I just mumbled something about reading The New York Post. "Yeah, I hate that f***ing rag," he says.
Suddenly, the phone rings. It's Sweety. I know what this is about. Sweety is not happy about the picture of that girl in Japan. Knowing that, I fail to mention Tommy Lee or the strip club we are in. Oops, no, that is not it. She has already edited the offending picture with a big red X and a disclaimer penned by her. Curse me for having the easiest to remember password ever. I still leave out the strip club, just in case.
She's angry about vaginas. Specifically, stories involving vaginas that are not hers.
ME: You didn't think my remark about the 'line of women willing to offer me their vaginas is so long it can be viewed from space' was funny? What about vaginas exploding because I am so hot. Is that funny?
SHE: I don't think you and vaginas in the same story is funny, no.
ME: Come on. That's funny stuff.
SHE: It's actually not that funny.
ME: You're repressing me.
SHE: I'm informing you.
ME: What about third person jokes involving vaginas?
SHE: Still not funny.
So I tried to disract her with stories about fat French people and a James Bond Director getting busted in drag during a prostitution sting but she was having none of it. Since that didn't work I offered to buy her a vibrator that plugs into the USB port of a computer. That seemed to settle her down. She's such a sucker for romantic gifts. Tommy Lee offers to serenade her to smooth things over but given his penchant for creating porn stars out of normal women, I don't take him up on it. If she's going to be a porn star, it can only be with me.
The Magic Of Miss Clairol
Pure, un-edited proof that all women look hotter as (a) blondes and (b) long-haired blondes. Let's talk Bryce Dallas Howard, apparently chosen to play Gwen Stacy in Spider-Man 3. Now, I don't know about the rest of you but my first masturbation memory was looking at Gwen Stacy as drawn by John Romita. I think I was 6. I don't know how they are going to work her into Spider-Man now, since they flopped around the history and made Mary Jane Watson his first girlfriend and had her getting into all the trouble Gwen did in the comics, but it won't matter as long as she looks something like this:
But they will think of something. If Sam Raimi likes the plot, I like the plot. After all, he did Army of Darkness, one of the greatest movies of all time.
Still, look at the pictures of this girl before and after blonde hair. On the left, she looks like her dad, Opie, including the red hair. Though he probably looks better bald than she does with hair. On the right, she is suddenly a platinum-blonde hottie.
So note to girls: if you want to get men, go blonde. And bake me a pie. Everything you need to know is in this picture:
Except the pie. I like cherry and pumpkin.
Sometimes Humor Just Makes Itself
This is why Tom Cruise usually makes sure he controls his hand puppets a little better.
I'm all for pregnant women. Especially women pregnant with my children. And statistically speaking there is just as much chance that I am the father of Katie Holmes' child as there is of it being Tom Cruise. But even staring at her with the happy glow of knowing she is carrying my critter around I would have to ask her what in hell she is wearing. And why. And to stop. And to bring me a Grande Mocha.
Photo courtesy of Superficial.
A Physicists Guide To Relationship Advice
I get a lot of acquaintances and friends that ask me for relationship advice. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because the line of women waiting to offer me their vaginas is so long it can be seen from space. Or maybe it's because I am happy all of the time. If I am happy all of the time, it's because I probably know some things they don't know. The first thing to know in relationships is where you stand and the second thing is not to expect too much from the other person. I can't help you with not expecting too much but I can tell you where you stand. To find that out, science comes to the rescue.
40 million people a year meet via the internet so this probably counts for that medium too, though I am betting the bad percentages are a lot higher. I met someone from the internet once and it went just about as well as it can go but your mileage may vary.
So here are the facts:
* British and Australian men drink too much. And admit it. That means they drink a lot more than they are admitting. So if you date one of them, don't start complaining about it.
* 80% of Brazilian and Mexican men lied about their relationship status. Why would they bother? Brazilian and Mexican women assume they are lying and don't care. Telling the truth might be a goldmine. Kind of like being a straight guy in San Francisco. Sure, women may assume you are gay at first but ...
* 70% of German women lied about their relationship status. Which tells you what you need to know about German men. On the other hand, with 70% of German women you can't tell what gender they are anyway.
* 50% of Italian and German men lied about income to attract the opposite sex. This explains why most German women continue to shop around. It doesn't explain anything at all about Italian men that you didn't already know. Namely, that they are hound dogs. I went to Italy with my chick and had to walk next to her with a hockey stick to get them to stop "Buongiorno"-ing her every five seconds.
* 40% of Portugese men rated intelligence over appearance. Not a single Australian respondent said that. So we know that 40% of Portugese lie and that Australian men are honest about both their drinking and that they only like you for your looks. Which is scary, if you have seen Australian women.
* 63% of men and women in the USA specified humor as the most important factor in their attraction to the opposite sex. Which tells you that this survey is full of crap. 73% of Canadians said the same thing, so at least Americans aren't as full of crap as Canadians.
Finally, I will throw in some personal insight on navigating relationships. Here is a paraphrased transcript from a conversation I had a few weeks ago so you know what not to do:
ME: If I don't go to Detroit, can you help me throw a Super Bowl party even though my team just crushed yours? I'll buy you stuff.
SHE: I want cash.
ME: Sweet. Can I bring it all in ones? I set up a stripper pole in the 3rd car garage.
SHE: Now I want more cash.
ME: Hmmm. That plan backfired.
SHE: But I will let you watch the game. Provided you keep it muted. And I am in Asia on business.
ME: You're trying to make me screw a whore in Windsor, Canada on Super Bowl Sunday, aren't you?
You can bet that list bit of well-intentioned humor came with a price tag. Luckily, Playboy is doing its part to help me find a replacement girl on the internet, if needed. They can help you too. Once you find her, all you have to do is tell her she has a sense of humor - 63% of the time. And teeth like Bugs Bunny. At least that worked for me and Kate Beckinsale.
Download the full Harlequin Romance Report 2006 here.
How To Have An Earthquake In Japan - Guaranteed
It's no secret why I come to Japan so often. It's to talk to this guy, who keeps a harem of 10 women living with him in Tokyo. He's like my Yoda, if I were a Star Wars nerd. I wish I could do that Jedi mind shit - see a hot girl and go "Mmmm ... make out with me, you will" - and then, BOOM, she gets naked and is Giselle Bundchen.
But I actually didn't have time to canoodle because I was too darn busy auditioning for a part in the the upcoming MAGNUM P.I. feature film. That's right, remaking old TV shows is apparently the only way to get a script written these days. They asked me how I would go about playing the part I was auditioning for - Rick, the club owner.
ME: "Well, Rick in the TV show was kind of a goof and all he seemed to do was get kidnapped or arrange a meeting with Icepick. I think we need to camp it up a little. You know. I am funnier and more charming than Owen Wilson so imagine if he were doing it, only a lot prettier. I could say things like, 'Magnum, what in our history together suggests I am capable of something like that?' People will laugh."
CASTING AGENT: "Well, this is more like the TV show. The action and the drama. It isn't a spoof, like the Starsky and Hutch film."
ME: "No, of course not. It was about an impossibly handsome guy who lived at the estate of a famous writer for free and drove his Ferrari and nailed a different hot chick every week and shot people and never got arrested. In Hawaii. What's there to spoof?"
CASTING AGENT: (blank stare)
Well, I don't think I got the part, which is too bad. Because I can make stuff happen. Like earthquakes, for example. Sure as I am sitting here if I go out to a hostess bar in Tokyo, there will be an earthquake. My proof? Well, earthquakes have happened to me before.This time the three of us return to a joint in Shin-Yokohama called The New Club and the first thing you will notice if you go is that they don't want any rabble in their establishment:
So we sit and one guy with me has them bring over his bottle of Japanese Soju - yeah, he comes here a lot if he keeps booze on site - and they bring me some kind of Udon tea and I fire up a cigar. I am legendary for having no patience about sitting around in bars without cigars aplenty on hand so they make sure I will be content right away. In my travelling humidor there are seven remaining so, if need be, I can stay awhile.
Suddenly this vast array of attractive Japanese women come over and sit with us - a very Japanese thing to have happen. A young lady sits next to me and tells me I look famous.
"Really? Who do I look like?"
"Tom Cruise," she says. "What's your name?"
"Tom Cruise," I tell her and she laughs.
"You funny. Like that guy in The Mask."
"Jim Carrey??? But he's ugly. You should stick with Tom Cruise."
"But he is very small. You are big."
"And pretty. Let's not leave that out," I remind her.
Suddenly, the floor is vibrating. Jesus Christ, not again. Can a big Gaijin not even pay for the privilege of having a barely attractive girl who speaks no English talk to him in this crummy town without getting an earthquake out of the deal?
But there it is, and it is vibrating not just a little, like the last one, but a lot. Real sensory-deprivation, wall-fixtures-shaking kind of thing. They are all looking around at each other and they have to be used to it, so this one must be close. Looking around myself, and thinking back to my MAGNUM P.I. movie experience, I realize this is how it looks on TV when they vibrate the whole plane in disaster films. And that reminded me of my flight into Narita Airport.
They had screwed up my reservation but still managed to secure me a nice exit row aisle seat. Important for the big Gaijin. The stewardess comes over and hands me a laminated card and reminds me that since I am in the exit row I need to read the safety instructions.
"I think the arrow and the big red letters that say OPEN pretty much tell me what I need to know," I am sarcastic because I am still a little grumpy about the screw-up at United Airlines. Plus she is not hot at all.
"Sir, it is important that you know what to do in the event of an emergency."
"In the event of an emergency? If this plane goes down, I know exactly what will happen." She blanches at this. In post-September 2001 air travel, stewardesses maintain even more ridiculous levels of authority than they had previously so if she thinks I am going to mention plane crashes or bombs, I could easily be diverted to the anal probe section of SFO. "I've seen LOST. If the plane goes down, I end up on a beach. With Evangeline Lilly. And cameras rolling. I am okay with all three of those things."
I am smiling. She is smiling. Life is good.
They film that show in Hawaii, you know. So the one state I have never flown to comes up yet again. Maybe I should have tried out for Thomas Magnum in the movie. I might have had better success than my funny approach to Rick.
Nahhh, the only thing Magnum about me is my condoms. And I could never pull off the moustache.