Tuesday, September 30, 2008

... And More!

When I was in high school my friend and I wanted to start a business called Pizza and a Movie, which would deliver you movie rentals of your choice along with your pizza. The trick was that the customer would be so lazy - why else would he patronize Pizza and a Movie in the first place? - and so enjoy our service, that he'd decide to place another order to return the movie, and thus get another pizza and another movie, and the cycle would continue until the end of time.

In select cities (none of them in Utah), we'd offer premium locations dubbed Pizza and a Movie... And More! The more, of course, being lap dances from strippers who would deliver the pizza and movie. This would be our huge moneymaker and lay the financial groundwork for the Pizzaandamovieandmore.com bowl, the annual college football national championship.

So the 21st century comes along and Netflix makes the idea obsolete. The business will never happen. Anyhow, my point here is that after all the rubble on Wall Street is cleaned away under a $700 billion rug, some of the new corporations and banks that emerge should affix the suffix "... And More!" to the end of their names. This is not to encourage lap-dancing strippers, mind you. It's just that the "... And More!" adds inherent value to businesses because it really gets people thinking as to what the "... And More!" means.

By the way, in a Biff-is-a-gambling-millionaire alternate reality, Pizza and a Movie... And More! exists. And it's huge, baby. And in that reality, Netflix is just some dumb idea written on someone's snarg (that's what blogs are called over there).

Monday, September 29, 2008

Main Street

Enough about Wall Street. All I'm worried about is how these Wall Street failures and the ensuing bailout will affect Main Street. Particularly the Main Street Electrical Parade. What if Disney had a major steak in Washington Mutual? Will it still be able to afford all those light bulbs?

(Update). Whoops, just Wikipediaed and discovered that the parade shut down in 1996. Damn. After that catastrophe we shoulda known Wall Street would be in trouble within 12 years.

Sunday, September 28, 2008

The Simpsons

I type this as I'm watching the season premiere. My reasons why somewhere between loyalty and addiction. I know every episode of the last 10 years has blown, and that I should be saving my DVD space for the occasionally funny "Family Guy that follows it, and yet I feel compelled to re-up in Springfield every Sunday.

I'm like a crack addict who's hooked on the very worst crack in town, which never gets him high anymore, partially because he's so used to it and partially because it isn't even crack anymore, but crystallized laundry detergent. And not the good kind, either. Cheer.

And now, against my will and dignity, I've laughed. Flanders and Homer were in a car together, because the subject this week is an unfunny parody of buddy cop film. Homer says he likes AC/DC, Flanders says he likes the Christian cover band of AC/DC. Already I'm thinking "Wow, what genius. Another groundbreaking Flanders-is-a-dorky-Christian joke." And then Flanders starts singing "Dirty deeds, done for free." Homer joins in and I'm cracking up. Congratulations, Simpsons writers. You've won another 20 years of regret-laden loyalty.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

John McCain should cancel Halloween

McCain shouldn't stop at postponing the debate. Why let the hedonistic holiday of Halloween go on during such a crisis?

How can we dress up like ghosts, vampires and whorish cats begging for candy when Behr Sterns is struggling financially? McCain is right. There should be no debates. We must put partisan politics aside and band together to give away free money, not candy.

And once this tribulation is overcome, how could we as a unified nation go back to trivial bickering and grandstanding? The simple answer is we just can't. Thus, there should be no election. We should come together, forget labels and just name McCain president. Or better yet, skip to the end of McCain's term and coronate our destined leader, Sarah Palin. As long as her passport gets mailed to her on time.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Color guard

I'm more than likely ignorant about this, but based on my observations of movie funerals I don't think there's a job in this world any easier than being in the color guard. I guess if you have a bad back it can get a little tough to stand there in place during particularly long-winded eulogies. And if you ever make a mistake, say, shooting one of the mourners during your 21-gun salute, that's one too many and you're going to prison. But really, how tough can it be?

Your friends are overseas putting their lives on the line. Even the luckier ones who have drawn administrative jobs and recruiter duty have to put in tough hours.

Cheer Ultra Liquid Detergent with Color Guard, on the other hand, has got it rough. Some of those stains are beasts to rinse out. Like mustard. Ugh, mustard. No easy task, cleaning mustard remnants off a shirt.

Monday, September 22, 2008

The $700 billion bail-out is a great investment

What an awesome idea the government has to save our crumbling financial infrastructure with an infusion of pretend money.

Always worked for me in Monopoly. Another good tactic, which I would sometimes use to get out of hopeless situations, is to say "earthquake" and shake all the pieces off the board. Congress is meeting right now to decide how to apply the latter concept to reality.

Sunday, September 21, 2008

Ad nauseum

This new "I'm a PC" commercial that played on a continuous loop during TV timeouts in NFL games Sunday gives me one more reason to worship Microsoft and its marketing wizardry. The evergreen, gotta-watch-this-one-more-time, "This is Our Country" brilliance of the concept is enough to make me want to drop an iPod down a garbage disposal and run out to the store to buy an extra copy of Windows Vista to donate to the poor.

The topper, of course, is the mini-lecture from revered spiritual guru Deepak Chropra, who utters this profound epiphany: "I'm a human being. Not a human doing. Not a human thinking. A human being."

Wow. All this time I went through life thinking Chopra was a human thinking. Or a human doing. Human being was about the last thing I thought he was. Well, to be clear I didn't think Chopra was anything because I had never heard of him. But thanks to the assistance of my handy PC, I read up on Chopra's voluminous contributions to the world, such as his noble and daring backing of Zrii, a wonder-drink made of grape, pear and pomegranate juice (based on the same ancient Indian formula, stolen by Marco Polo, that inspired Capri Sun) that's a steal at only $30 a bottle and can solve all social, if not mental ills. To top that, Zrii is sold through that honest and virtuous method of multilevel marketing, which ensures that you'll never have to run out to a Circle K to buy yourself a case because a desperate friend or relative will deliver it to your house on a minute's notice in order to meet her month's quota and secure her rung in the pyramid of prosperity.

I hope Microsoft steps up this ad campaign, using it as a noble sword of heaven to strike down the demonic plague that is those snide Justin Long Mac ads. I just can't get enough of this commercial. I'd download it and replay it continuously on my computer if Vista didn't make my poor machine crash so often.

P.S. Vista crashes because of bugs and trojans made on the sly by Mac zealots to victimize free-thinking, PC-using human thinkings, um, I mean doings... Wait, what was that? Yes, BEINGS, such as myself and Chopra.

Thursday, September 18, 2008

Take that, Skeletor

Whenever something good happens to me, I envision my arch-nemesis, Skeletor, staring into his crystal lava cauldron inside Snake Mountain. He's raising his fist and shouting "Curses!"

That's my motivation in life - not personal gain or the need to contribute something to the world, but simply to anger Skeletor. He's such a pompous bastard, and constantly rooting for me to fail, so anything I can do to agitate him is worthwhile.

(Some may be confused by the statement that Skeletor is my arch-nemesis, assuming that he's actually He-Man's arch-nemesis. To these morons I say don't believe everything you see on cartoons. He-Man isn't real. He's made-up fiction, much like Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny and Sarah Palin's vice presidential qualifications.)

I'm sure I pissed him off pretty bad today when I absolutely rocked "One Way or Another" on "Rock Band 2." I destroyed that song. If Blondie would have been there to see how much I rocked - playing lead guitar on medium, as all badasses do - she would have choked to death out of depression. I got five stars on the song. You know what that was out of? Five stars. That's right, got all five. Go back and read those last two sentences again. Unless you've already done so three times and appreciate how impressive that is, which in that case you're allowed to read on. Also, the game said I earned 250 more fans and $45.

I guarantee you this - of those 250 fans, one of them wasn't Skeletor. Nor were any of them Debbie Harry. It's safe to assume that one was probably Scarlett Johansson though.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

The Marios (a lost screenplay)

Several years ago, HBO executives struggled over two differing Italian mob dramas: the now legendary Sopranos and the lost and forgotten Marios. Through my connections I managed to find a copy of the screenplay for the pilot episode that was rejected and never produced. All we can do now is read it and speculate on what might have been.

Ext. MANSION. Fade into the image of a fat mob head, MARIO, as he reclines near his lava pool, quietly contemplating his pet KOOPA TROOPAS, which are swimming around. His bitchy, unappreciated wife PRINCESS DAISY approaches.

This-a mafia life. I don-‘ta know if I can handle much-a more of this.

Ah, quit complaining and do some housework. Why don’t you powerslide into the bedroom and pick up those damn blue overalls you’re always leaving everywhere?

I no do-a no housework. That’s-a why we hired Toad as a butler, no?

(wiping fungus residue off her mouth, because her husband’s mention of toad reminded her that she just finished going down on him)
Right, a butler. Sure, that’s why we hired him, allright. I’m sure he’ll take care of it.

He’d-a better, after all the damn gold coins he-a charges.

Shaddup. It’s not like you actually earn that money anyways. All you and your brother Luigi do to earn money is jump into the air and punch the golden flashing question blocks over and over.

Don’t-a mention that man’s name. He’s-a dead to me. Besides, woman, I don’t-a wanna hear you complaining about-a how I live my financial life. It’s-a the family business. It’s-a what puts magic mushrooms on-a your plate, princess gowns in-a the closet and fire flowers in-a the garden. I didn’t-a hear you complaining when I took-a you on vacation last month.

World 4. Big whoop. What’s so special about Giant Level, anyway? All you wanted to do was hop around in the giant boot to travel around. So uncomfortable. Couldn’t you have at least sprung for a cab?

I don’t-a have to listen to this. I’m-a outta here.
Mario grabs a nearby bouncing star, begins flashing and runs at an incredible speed away from his mansion.

INT. BINGBINBING, the strip joint Mario runs with his brother, LUIGI.

Hey-a, mia paisano, Luigi, how are you?

(nervously sitting beside a stage in which intergalactic Metroid battler SAMUS strips off her armor to a gawking crowd)
Hello-a, brother. Why-a is it you asked me here? I thought-a you were mad at me after you found out I lost your life savings to a loan shark?

Don’t-a be ridiculous. Take a seat.

Ah, no thanks. I think I’ll just squat and pull my hat down.

Suit-a yourself. Hey, what’s that over there?

Mario begins angrily jumping on his distracted brother’s head over and over, ranting as he kills him.

You-a bastard! You never-a go against-a the family! If you need-a money, you come to me. I was gonna use-a those coins to buy you a one-up! Now-a don’t you wish you had it?

Argh! Ugh! Yip! What I wouldn’t give for a P-Wing right about now.

Luigi DIES to the accompaniment of Super Mario Bros. death music and a GAME OVER subtitle.

Ext. MANSION. Mario once again looks over the peaceful KOOPA TROOPAS in his lava lake.

Ah, these-a Koopa Troopas. So-a peaceful, so- calm, and so-a not in the mafia.

I saw on the news that you killed Luigi. I’m sick of this, you worthless prick! All you do is take out your frustration of your own failed life out on others through violence. If it’s not Luigi at the strip club, it’s Little Goombas in the fields you’re stomping. If it’s not them, you’re over at Castle 8-4 throwing fireballs at Bowser.

He-a throws hammers at me. Three-a at a time! What-a you want me to do, take-a him out for dinner?

Ha! As if your lazy ass is even capable of that. When was the last time we went to a nice restaurant?

I-a dunno, you cold-a bitch. When was-a the last time we-a had sex? Oh, right-a. Never. Even-a though we’re-a married now, you-a never give it up. No-a wonder I’m-a so frustrated, as you say. I save-a you from kidnapping 31 times, and all I get is a kiss on the cheek.

I’m not your whore, Mario. You’ll have to wait until I’m ready. Maybe you should see an attractive psychiatrist you can secretly pine for as you spill your innermost problems.

I don’t-a need a psychiatrist. How cliché-a would that be? What-a I need is a wife who shows affection. What-a the hell? I met you 20 years ago! Me, I’m a plumber, and I-a need my pipes-a cleaned! I’m-a sick of having to warp off all the time!

Daisy leaves Mario with his brooding thoughts. He stares at the Koopa Troopas in the lava and continues to ruminate on his existence. FADE OUT.

Monday, September 15, 2008

The Bible is wrong

Paul, who mused that "God will never give you more than you can handle" (paraphrased) in 1 Corinthians, clearly didn't foresee a future in which BYU would play UCLA in football.

Thursday, September 11, 2008

We're winning the war in Iraq now

I'm so glad that the tide has turned and all of a sudden the Iraq situation is no longer a quagmire in which lives are being lost for no good reason. We're winning now, you see. What evidence do I have for that assertion? Sean Hannity and Rush Limbaugh say so. These guys do their research so I don't need to.

It's so, so awesome that we're winning. Now everyone who had Iraqi insurgents in the pool is screwed. And unpatriotic democrats must be slamming their Priuses in anger. It all turns out that Toby Keith was right and the Dixie Chicks were wrong. And George W. Bush is a military genius who played rope-a-dope for six years before unveiling his ace in the hole, a troop surge that solved everything and made terrorists give up on that whole Jihad thing. It's nice that things turned out this way, 'cause I was getting worried there for a while...

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

You've got the wrong pig

Why is it that everyone automatically assumes Obama's "lipstick on a pig" comment was referring to Palin? It's obvious that Palin is the lipstick in the metaphor and McCain is the pig.

Even Obama wouldn't admit this in his little speech today, but his giggling supporters who lapped up the comment in person seemed to know what he was talking about.

Tuesday, September 09, 2008

Fantasy football is stupid

The only joy I can take in the existence of the scourge, which makes people fans of individual players a la NASCAR instead of teams, is the comfort that in every fantasy football league in the world, there was one jackass who was all happy to have Tom Brady on his team.

Now that Brady is out for the year, the jackass will fail and curse fate for his bitter end.

Monday, September 08, 2008


Having gum surgery is the worst, most painful experience a human being can possibly endure. I don’t want to hear anyone complain about childbirth ever again, or passing a kidney stone, or getting shot five times in the gut and having iodine poured down the bullet holes.

I know this because a couple years ago I had gum surgery, and it’s the worst ever. It only took an hour, but that hour – and John McCain can vouch for this - was worse than being stuck in a Vietnamese POW camp for five years. I wish I had a time machine, just so I could go back to the Spanish Inquisition and tell tortured heretics stories of what I went through so they could stop feeling so bad for themselves and recognize that what they’re enduring is nowhere near the pain I went through. Then I’d go do the same to the victims of the Salem Witch Trials, the sinking of the Titanic and Buffalo Bills fans in the 1990s. I’d get them all to hold candlelight vigils for me out of homage for the senseless suffering I’ve endured.

Before I posted this story I printed it out and sent it to Muhammad Ali, and he says Parkinson’s Disease has got nothing on my discomfort. Then I e-mailed it to the guy that got shot by Dick Cheney and he felt so bad for me he said he didn’t follow proper hunting protocol and offered to take the blame. Britney Spears stopped by the other day to borrow a cup of sugar and after I told her what I’d been through, she said gum surgery seems like it sucked worse than being married to Kevin Federline. On Wikipedia it says that the Archduke Franz Ferdinand’s last words were “Geez. Getting assassinated in a chain of events that will lead to the start of World War I really, really sucks, but it’s got nothing on gum surgery.” Look it up.

Here’s the way it went down. My mouth has more gum than a Bubblicious factory, so the oral surgeon has to get in there and solder off the excess. The worst part was not the needles in my mouth or listening to the guy saw the flesh off my teeth, it was the act of hyperextending my jaw for an hour. Remember how when after Hitler killed himself spy agencies searched out the world and found all the Nazis that went into hiding so they could try them at Nuremburg? Turns out they missed one, and he’s working at a Tucson dentist office. In an elaborate torture experiment, the Nazi doctor kept pushing my mouth farther and farther open. I felt like the dinosaur King Kong kills by pulling its jaw apart. My mouth was as sore as Ryan Seacrest’s was after he had to service all those producers on the casting couch at American Idol auditions.

You can't talk when your moth is forced open like that, either. That’s probably a good thing, too, because my threats of violent retribution would have landed me in jail. The whole time the surgery was going on, it was an inner struggle between my fear and the instinct to just get out of the chair and run the hell out of there. My mouth may have been numb, but what hurt were the muscles of my dislocated jaw. When I closed my mouth afterward I could hear a crack and my jaw completely shifted twice until it got back to where it was supposed to be, like an automatic transmission.

And I paid for this! Yet I still got a better return for my money than I have for Arizona Wildcats football tickets the past 10 years.

Friday, September 05, 2008

My kid the future NRA member

19-month-old Luke's favorite game is to jump on me and yell fight. We wrestle around and after a few seconds he asks for his gun, which is the NES Zapper.

I just think it's hilarious that he wants to fight me and then thinks he should shoot me once things aren't going his way.

Thursday, September 04, 2008

My NFL predictions

Patriots 15-1
Jets 9-7
Bills 6-10
Dolphins 2-14

Browns 10-6
Steelers 9-7
Bengals 7-9
Ravens 6-10

Jaguars 11-5
Colts 10-6
Titans 6-10
Texans 5-11

Charges 11-5
Broncos 8-8
Raiders 8-8
Chiefs 5-11

Cowboys 11-5
Giants 9-7
Redskins 6-10
Eagles 6-10

Packers 10-6
Vikings 9-7
Bears 8-8
Lions 5-11

Saints 12-4
Panthers 11-5
Bucs 8-8
Falcons 1-15

Cardinals 16-0
49ers 14-2
Rams 2-14
Seahawks 0-16


Jets 20, Chargers 17
Colts 20, Browns 10

49ers 75, Packers 0
Cowboys 38, Panthers 33

Jaguars 17, Colts 14
Patriots 45, Jets 41

Cardinals 20, 49ers 17
Cowboys 30, Saints 27

Jaguars 27, Patriots 17

Cardinals 87, Cowboys 0

Cardinals 125, Jaguars 0

Wednesday, September 03, 2008

31 is the loneliest number

So it turns out my book is a collector's item. Only 31 people on the planet own a copy. It's like those Honus Wagner baseball cards that always get auctioned for millions of dollars. Only better.

So you heard it here first. One way to get rich is to buy "Stormin' Mormon."

Tuesday, September 02, 2008

Beat the best to be the best

Can you outguess me in weekly NFL point spreads? Prove it. Password is Leinartsucks.

I'm immune to pneumonia

I watched a 70-0 football game in the rain Saturday. Had a cold going into it, and lightning delayed it for an hour. I stood there soaking for four hours and everyone around me told me I would probably die. But you know what? I endured like the champion I am. I must have Bruce Willis-like superhero powers of invulnerability.