Please, won't you make it stop?

So I'm training a guy at work, right? As part of the process, I ask a series of questions designed to broaden their knowledge of the menu. One particular question alluded to a sandwich consisting of a chicken-fried chicken patty, two slices of bacon and cheese. I asked him what meat, other than chicken, the sandwich comes with. His answer?...Ham. Right away this sounds bad. In his defense, several sandwiches on the menu contain a slice of ham and 90% of trainees will answer incorrectly on the first try. Usually I repeat the question, making sure to emphasize the word bacon, and we can move on. Five incorrect answers later, I revealed the answer and was met with a blank stare rivaling the staunchest of cult automatons. Why? He was unaware bacon was in fact , a meat.

And so the 'there but by the grace of God club' gains yet another lifetime member.

Say What?

Those of you prone to ethical reverence will be pleased to know I am posting this from my very own, legally procured internet signal. While I still find paying for such a service ridiculous, it's nice to no longer pace the apartment in a frustrating signal search, or worse yet, traveling to a local coffee joint filled with individuals whom no one likes yet all attempt to emulate.

In more rant worthy news, I was recently submitted to the remixed version of a certain commercial depicting a culinary accoutrement through which slaps are exchanged for a chopping motion of sorts. It's nice to know that the despair brought on by manhandling a prostitute can be healed through clumsily dubbed advertisement abortions...keep up the good work guy,,,

Your Bike and You. A handbook for the feral female...

I spend the majority of my day avoiding people for one reason or another. Pretentious? Perhaps, but I assure you, it is more for their benefit than mine. Occasionally, however, I put aside my particular brand of snobbery for the greater good. Today was one of those days.

After an 11 hour work day, I headed for home, anticipating my collapse into the waiting arms of my garage sale recliner. After, a mere two blocks, the car in front of mine made a last minute turn decision and I was forced to apply a liberal amount of brake. Such occurrences are not uncommon, but today I had a trio of crotch rockets rapidly approaching my rear and was unaware of their presence until they changed lanes and blew past me, setting off a series of strokes. Being a little on the testy side, I rapidly increased my speed with the intention of exacting a form of justice yet to be determined. Luckily my fellow motorists and I were on the same page. As I sped up, the vehicles ahead of me seemed to simultaneously slow down, effectively entombing the bastards in a coffin comprised of a semi-truck, a Prius, a low riding Cadillac (complete with a genuine banger), a duo of SUV's and myself. For two awe-inspiring miles, we managed to thwart their attempts at escape when an inevitable yellow light provided the lead bike a chance at freedom. Having only begun to slake my lust for justice, I attempted a maneuver inspired by the amalgam of a senior citizen and a junior high girl and suceeded in cutting the tail bike off from his clan by 3 cars and a redlight. I met douche-baggery head on and kicked it square in its overly exaggerated genitals.

Sadly, all these efforts were for naught. While stopped in the left hand turn lane, a Jeep full of rather esteem-lacking females instictively initiated an ego stroke more powerful than even my well-honed misanthropy could counter. Damn...guess I'll have to save my bitch-bike quips for next time...

Lamenting Latex

As if contraceptive commercials needed to be creepier, Trojan recently aired a commercial showcasing a pair of mime hands engaged in some grotesquely suggestive gesticulating. Painful, I know, though equally genius. It's not everyday a product instills new hope in the date-rape crowd, while simultaneously pissing off the French. Too bad I can't scrub the inside of my brain.

"Sometimes, I throw nickles in the oven...

There are few things more rewarding than shedding light on one of life's great mysteries. It is in this spirit that I happily report the debunking of the penultimate conundrum. After years of agonizing search, I have stumbled upon the infamous Nickleback fan-base. I know what you're thinking, said fan-base is nothing but a myth, spoon fed to the masses by the music industry in order to give the illusion of credibility. But the truth is, someone is buying this crap. If not, the entire band would've died off years ago, thus making an iron-clad argument for evolution. Who is listening, you ask? The answer shouldn't surprise you. It appears to be single, white, heavily sauced 2o somethings, doling out sexual harrassment and indiscriminately plucking half-smoked cigarettes from the ashtray with a total disregard for Hepatitus C. Now that this group has been identified, avoinding them becomes all the easier. Avoid community swimming pools, dive bars, seedy hotel lounges and any other locations where members of the 'there but by the grace of God' club may frequent. At the risk of sounding insensitive, Helen Keller had it made...

Disclaimer: I am in no way insinuating that the aforementioned music is enjoyed only by one group. Another possibility seems to be the competitive eating cirtcuit. While data is still being collected, any group of people disillusioned enough to believe the consumption of food constitutes an act of courage shows a monolithic lack of inhibition.

How the Hell Did New Jersey Become A State?

For centuries, school officials around the world have deemed it necessary to enact bans on things considered to counterproductive to the learning process. Past bans have included items like weapons/firearms, alcohol, drugs, school prayer, dodge-ball and of course, pedophiles. But in what can only be described as a disturbingly absurd abuse of power, a New Jersey school has taken upon itself to ban one of the most perverse acts in all of history. Students enrolled in the aforementioned Middle School are no longer permitted to hug. Why, you ask? A statement by the principal says it all. " It was needless hugging...It wasn't a greeting. It was happening all day".

Frankly, I'm relieved. As you are aware, hugging is the number one cause of spontaneous pregnancy. Recent medical studies have also shown that those engaging in superfluous hugging are 98% more likely to contract a chronic venereal disease. I don't know about you, but tonight I can rest easy knowing that 13 year old's living in New Jersey will never know the horrors of chlamydia.

Unfortunately, students will ultimately find another way in which to show affection. Hand holding is out. As is the eerie practice of sex-ting and a variety of other covert/overt displays. I predict that within the decade, schools across the country will ban hugging, forcing students to greet one another by ceremoniously rubbing together their asses. Let the chaffing begin...

Anyone Know How to Free-Base Music?

My name is Phil and I am an addict. It started it out solely as a hobby; a quick fix here and there, with the occasional big score. But thanks to the penultimate of all anniversary gifts, what was once a harmless pastime has blossomed into a full blown addiction. For hours on end, I methodically browse the Zune marketplace in search of my next hit and on more than one occasion have spent upwards of $75 in one sitting. As you can imagine, my wife was less than pleased. So displeased, in fact, she was forced to place me on a 2 month musical moratorium. And herein lies the problem. Last night, a meager 2 weeks into my sentence, I found myself curled in the fetal position cradiling the case for my latest hard copy purchase. (If you're interested, its a recording of Fiddler on the Roof as performed by the original Broadway cast)

In an effort to cope I've decided to live vicariously through my readers. Feel free to comment on your latest musical discoveries. Following are a few of mine. I've refrained from critiquing these selections in order to avoid bias. Enjoy.

Chutes to Narrow, by the Shins
The HMS Pinafore and The Pirates of Penzance by Gilbert and Sullivan (as performed by the Welsh National Opera
Trouble by Ray Lamontagne
Sea Sew by Lisa Hannigan
Symphony No. 3 (Symphony of Sad Songs) by Henryk Gorecki
One Cell in the Sea by A Fine Frenzy
Photo Album by Death Cab For Cutie
Cabin Ghosts by Cory Chisel and the Wandering Sons
Funeral by Arcade Fire
Existence by Antoine Dufour
The Art of Motion and the Gates of Gnomeria by Andy McKee
and Ny Batteri by Sigur Ros