A memo from the desk of Arnold T. Pants, Esq.:Insurance salesgirls and Twitter accounts, but first, porn!

· Contrary to what some of you might think, just because I'm a raging commie pinko liberal doesn't mean I'm all that different from you. At the end of the day, I'm just a man. I like my beer cold, my chicken wings hot, my football loud, and my boobs D-cup or bigger. Yet there's one thing I've never gotten into: hard-core porn. Why would I want to watch two people have sex if neither one of them is me? Don't get me wrong, I'll watch naked women 'till the cows come home, but you throw a dude into the mix and suddenly the only thing I can think about is all the sex I'm not having. (That and the fact that I'm looking at another guy's dick. I really don't like looking at dicks, period, and more often than not that includes my own. But I digress.)

So it was with trepidation that I clicked this link, sent to me via Twitter by Jerry of The Joe Cribbs Car Wash. Don't blow a gasket, Jerry's married, for crying out loud, and that link is completely safe for work. But it's about a pornographic parody of "30 Rock." Here's the safe-for-work-except-for-some-naughty-words trailer:



I was prepared to hate everything about this film, based on, among other things, my revulsion at the mere thought of Liz Lemon (or a Liz-Lemon-like character) getting twisted out by one or perhaps multiple cast members of the show. That mental image still makes my inner child cry, but here's the thing: The trailer's really funny. Being a screenwriter for a porn flick has to be kind of like being Orrin Hatch's vice chief of staff for LGBT relations, but whoever the writers of the "30 Rock" parody are, they've nailed the show's comic sensibility. ("I bought this table with the money I made from my hit movie 'Little Black Baby, Cracka-Ass Parents.' ") The dude who plays the Jack Donaghy stand-in, Herschel Savage, sounds so much like Alec Baldwin I don't know that I'd be able to tell them apart with my eyes closed. Someone clearly did their research and put some effort into this, and I'm glad to see it.

It's all enough to make me seriously consider buying a copy of the DVD . . . but my mom specifically told me not to.

· Last week's Friday Random Ten+5 got me thinking about Flo, the Progressive Auto Insurance Salesgirl -- not that I shouldn't think Flo is hot, just as none of you should, but anyway, WSB News tracked her down and uncovered some interesting info about her in what I can only guess was an EXCLUSIVE interview. Among them: Her name is Stephanie Courtney, and she's 38; she's a member of the L.A. improv group The Groundlings; and she has a recurring role on "Mad Men." And it's apparently not easy being Flo:

"They tease my hair, spray it and stick the headband in it," Courtney explains. "And the makeup is like painting a portrait on my face," she says, laughing. "It's insane. It totally changes things on my face. It's like having a mask on."

I think you mean it's like having an adorable mask on. But Flo isn't bad-looking in real life, either, as evidenced by the picture with the article.

· Who is the richest fictional character in the world? Apparently it's Scrooge McDuck, whose mining/manufacturing/treasure-hunting empire is valued by Forbes magazine at around $29.1 billion. I'm not counting Uncle Sam in this ranking, because he's not so much a fictional character as he is a generic symbol for a government that can print basically as much money as it wants. I was surprised to find Princess Peach off the list due to a revolution within the Mushroom Kingdom. I have no idea how they calculated any of this, but it's still a fun read, and yes, it includes Jabba the Hutt's interstellar criminal empire.

· I've said it before on Twitter, but it bears repeating: If you're not following shitmydadsays, you're missing out on a real opportunity to maximize your Twitter potential.

· One more inuendo-riffic embedded video, courtesy of faithful reader Matt, to amuse you on a rainy Thursday: the "Shake Weight," which lets women achieve toned, shapely arms and presumably acquire some other valuable talents in the process.

A special memo from the desk of Arnold T. Pants, Esq.: How to tell if ideas are good or bad.

Realized about halfway through that I was stealing this from EDSBS, but whatever.

Good idea: this video, or anything making fun of the "G.I. Joe" movie.

The Ballad of G.I. Joe from Olivia Wilde

Bad idea: Wearing this T-shirt whilst having a mugshot taken.



GREAT idea: maximizing time-for-money value by bringing a U-Haul to a Hooters car wash.


TERRIBLE idea: griending your boss on Facebook, then posting a message calling him/her a "total pervvy wanker."

A memo from the desk of Arnold T. Pants, Esq.:Getting back in the saddle.

· First of all, I want to thank everyone who e-mailed or commented or text-messaged their kind wishes in the wake of my granddad's death last week. The family's been taking it really well, and I think we've all been extremely lucky to have big groups of people to rally around us when we've needed it.

Incidentally, while the process of "settling affairs" is still ongoing, I was granted what I guess you could call my piece of the "inheritance" while I was up in West Virginia with the family: an unfinished bottle of Glenlivet that had belonged to Granddad. We don't have many Scotch drinkers in our family, but he was a big fan. That bottle is one that will never be finished -- I'm always going to keep a little bit sitting there in the bottom, for Granddad -- but I'm proud to have it on my shelf.

· OK, enough with the seriousness; time to get back into this "blogging" thing, which I have been extremely slack about the last few weeks. I won't say anything dumb like "It's what Granddad would've wanted," because I frankly have no idea whether he gave a crap about this blog or anything on the Internet period, but -- if I let this unfortunate event stop me from blogging, then the terrorists have won, or something. Let's bring out the Legos.







· Those were so good, let's have some more. Cakes! My favorite:



· The other day I noticed an interesting confluence in my Twitter feed -- two Twitterers I follow, one ultra-liberal and one ultra-conservative, linked to the same snippet of video from Glenn Beck's appearance on "The View." And they both agreed that Beck pretty well got his ass handed to him. See for thyself:



First allow me to stipulate two things: 1) I don't like Glenn Beck. 2) I don't watch "The View" and, thus, do not find it to be an especially stimulating venue for political debate. But with all that said, allow me to ask: What kind of fucking idiot is Glenn Beck? You know you're going on "The View," so you decide to mock (and, demonstrably, lie about) its two most recognizable stars on your radio show? To call that "bush league" would be an insult to both bushes and leagues, and to call Beck a "buffoon" would be an insult to the many people throughout history who have managed to make perfectly productive careers out of buffoonery.

Right-wingers, you can take me at my word or not, it's up to you, but your already tarnished political brand is doing itself no favors by its continued association with a whining bumblefuck like Glenn Beck. Rush Limbaugh is an asshole, and avowedly so, but at least he's occasionally an asshole in the service of some greater point or idea; Glenn Beck is just a dork who fell bass-ackwards into a TV gig and who serves no current purpose other than to give sarcasm a bad name. Cut him loose and move on.

· Heard the other day that Olivia Wilde had been given the top spot on Maxim's "Hot 100" list for this year. Is it bad that I had to look up who she was?

· Conspicuously not on the list: CNN money/financial reporter Poppy Harlow. Happened to glance at her on the news the other day above the chyron "Tips for Servicing Your Hybrid" and said, out loud, "I'd service her hybrid." You know when's not a good time to say something like that out loud? When you're on the phone with your girlfriend.



Be that as it may, she's a live one, all right. But don't think for one second that I'm making her the new Hey Jenny Slater Official Future Wife or anything like that; I'm not getting my heart broken like last time.

A memo from the desk of Arnold T. Pants, Esq.:Those who stay will be mildly amused.

· Let's face it, people: Statistically, 95 percent of you out there are probably disappointed to some degree with the bowl bid your team did or didn't get. So what better way to salve that disappointment than by participating in further competitive endeavors requiring you to predict the outcomes of bowls far more prestigious than yours?

Yup, Hey Jenny Slater is sponsoring an official Yahoo! College Bowl Pick'Em group, and you're all invited. (Except you. Yeah, you. You know who you are.) To join up, go to this link and enter group ID number 25595 and the password "croomtastic." And ta-da, you're part of an exclusive group consisting only of the millions of people who have nothing better to do! You pick each bowl and assign a confidence number from 1 to 34, you accumulate points with each game picked correctly, whoever has the most points after the BCS National Championship Game is played wins absolutely nothing. Sign up today!

· While you're ruminating on the bowl matchups, you can also take a look at every ballot submitted in the last coaches' poll here and see exactly where each coach ranked each team. The only voter not to include Georgia anywhere in his top 25? Oregon State's Mike Riley. Weirdly enough, though, Mark Richt didn't include the Beavers in his ballot, either. Maybe Richt and Riley hated each other as children; your guess is as good as mine. Other balloting follies can be read about and mocked openly at Simon on Sports.



· A commenter to my Christmas-list post pointed out that the link to my Amazon wish list was incorrect, so here's a new link that should do the trick. I'm not one to place an inordinate amount of emphasis on material goods, but if you were really my friend, you'd buy me stuff. Just saying.

· Josh has a highly insightful guide as to what you should do and not do when conjuring up a Facebook status update. I think J-dog is being a little dismissive of MySpace, though. It's not just "for preteens and Pedobears"; it's also for bored housewives who want to drive their daughters' middle-school nemeses to suicide. Durrr!

· Video 'splosion! First, bumper cars with real cars, otherwise known as one of the main reasons I don't live (or drive) up North:



And here's a highly overcaffeinated (and profane) TV producer using some highly inappropriate (and, from the looks of things, highly on-air) language toward MSNBC's Contessa Brewer, my new future TV newsanchor girlfriend now that Melissa Theuriau done had to go get herself murried and whatnot.



Whooooaaa, you f%$# with Contessa Brewer, you bring down the full force of the entire Hey Jenny Slater p.l.c. global conglomerate down upon you. Check yourself, bitch.

A memo from the desk of Arnold T. Pants, Esq.:Happy Thanksgiving, schmucks -- eat up!

It's Thanksgiving, and Arnold T. Pants is servin' it up for the first time in quite a while. The main entree, the big preview of the Georgia-Georgia Tech game, will be along later on today for y'all to carve up at your leisure, but here's some stuff for you to nosh on until then:

· Need some bad gambling advice? Err . . . I mean, need some gambling advice, bad? My weekly picks column is up over at Dr. Saturday's joint, and not only do you get another round of stab-in-the-dark picks, you get a brief look into a family once again gripped by the Cavalier-Hokie rivalry. Virginia-Virginia Tech: It's just like Texas-Oklahoma, only without the offensive firepower, "SportsCenter" highlight-reel-making hard hits, or national-title implications! Not that any of it matters, because win or lose, my dad will still brag that UVA was founded by Thomas Jefferson, and you can't take that away from him.


Dammit, I was talking about a wall of separation between "church" and "state," not "Virginia's offense" and "the end zone."

· I didn't think anything could be tastier than Thanksgiving dinner, but these comments, collected by Andrew Sullivan, from right-wing tools (and a few out-of-touch Democrats) about how Obama couldn't possibly win the presidency, are pretty delicious, if only in that ironic, Montgomery Burns "deliiiicious" way. Eat up, but not too fast, or you'll get a tummyache.

· Last political item and then I'll quit: All my peeps in Georgia, while you're out there tomorrow tearing your hair out with frustration amongst the Black Friday crowds at the malls, how 'bout you swing by your local polling place and give a very simple gift to the entire state of Georgia by voting for Jim Martin in the U.S. Senate runoff against Saxby Chambliss. Chambliss, you'll recall, is the guy who ran ads against incumbent Max Cleland in 2002 juxtaposing Cleland's face with that of Osama bin Laden and saying that Cleland, who left three limbs behind in Vietnam, was soft on national security; since then, he's done absolutely nothing of note in Washington except attempting to shield Imperial Sugar from any culpability in a February explosion at a Savannah plant that killed 14 people. Now Chambliss basically has nothing to run on this time around except for "Elect me or the Democrats will be in control over everything ARP ARP SOCIALISM ARRGGGHHH," which you can basically interpret as "I'll stand in the way of every last thing Obama tries to do to turn the economy around." Please, Georgia, for all our sakes, send this guy packing,

Oh, and Georgia fans, if you needed any further evidence that Chambliss is not to be trusted, consider: Both Martin and Chambliss attended UGA for undergrad and went on to law school, but Jim Martin got his law degree (actually, law degrees, plural) from Georgia; Chambliss shunned his alma mater to attend law school at Tennessee. And that is unacceptable.



· OK, one more political item, sort of. Last night I was watching Olbermann and Maddow on MSNBC, and both of them were giving George W. Bush the business for screwing around with the annual "Thanksgiving turkey pardon" while Obama was arranging his economic task force and looking, you know, presidential and shit. And yeah, the contrast between the two was kind of embarrassing, given that the only meaningful work was being done by the guy who isn't even president yet, but . . . you know what? Whatever else you can say about him, George W. Bush is certainly in his element with the goofy, meaningless ceremonial aspects of being president. I don't trust him to direct foreign policy and I sure as hell don't want him anywhere near a budget, but when he was pardoning the turkeys, all I could think of was, Awwww, little guy's having fun out there. His approval rating is in the tank and he's probably going to go out as one of the least popular events in American history, but for right now, at least, he's got a smile on his face.

And that made me think, maybe it wouldn't be so bad to keep Dubya (or a guy like him) around as, like, an executive-branch jester or something like that, to handle the turkey pardons and White House Easter-egg hunts while Obama tends to the serious country-saving matters. I mean, as low as Flavor Flav has sunk with all his reality-show appearances and whatnot, people forget that he really was an integral part of Public Enemy back in the day, because people might not have been able to handle all the heavy science Chuck D was dropping if Flav hadn't been there to lighten things up with the occasional dose of comic relief. That's how I see this president/president-elect relationship playing out over the next couple months: You've got Barack Obama in the Chuck D role, kicking it about the serious issues and making sure the American people know what's up about what's going on in their society, and Dubya can be the one jumping around in the background, pardoning turkeys and dancing around with visiting music/dance groups with the clock hanging around his neck. Seriously, what's the harm? Wouldn't that be a nice way to be, you know, bipartisan and stuff?



· By the way: I know I mentioned this in an earlier Dr. Saturday column -- and I know y'all read it, RIGHT?? -- that I'm headed off to Los Angeles on Friday to watch Jimmy Clausen get dismem . . . er, I mean to see the USC-Notre Dame game. I'll be in L.A. until Tuesday, so we've got some time to kill; a good chunk of it will be spent at Legoland down in Carlsbad, another chunk will no doubt be spent stalking Tom Selleck, but we'll surely have some free time beyond those two activities over the course of the weekend. So if any of y'all live in L.A. or have spent any substantial amount of time there, and know of something that we just HAFTA see/do, holla in the comments thread.

· And, finally, some side dishes in the form of YouTube videos that have made me laugh over the past couple weeks.

Flight of the Conchords' loving tribute to David Bowie:



The "pre-taped call-in show" sketch from Mr. Show:



And while not technically a YouTube, this "Daily Show" segment from the height of the Tom DeLay scandal a couple years ago is one of the funniest things I've seen on TV. Ever.

The Daily Show With Jon StewartM - Th 11p / 10c

Level of Taint

Barack Obama Interview
John McCain Interview

Sarah Palin Video
Funny Election Video

Happy Thanksgiving, schmucks. Eat too much, but otherwise, be safe.

A memo from the desk of Arnold T. Pants, Esq.:People without maps, orange outfits, busted Trojans, and other profiles in FAIL.

• The Sarah Palin bandwagon is beginning to unload, as right-wing columnist Kathleen Parker comes forward to say Palin should step down from the ticket. Well, there are plenty of equally qualified replacements out there . . . how does McCain/Upton '08 sound?





I guess I shouldn't make fun, though, since John McCain has already won tonight's debate.

• Apropos of nothing, a writer for knoxnews.com in Knoxville, Tennessee, read some comment I made on this blog about Tennessee fans' tacky gameday attire and was actually inspired to solicit my opinion for an article he was writing on that very subject. I think it says something about Volunteer Nation's current mental state that they didn't immediately fill up the comments thread with angry questions about why anyone would solicit some pansy-ass Georgia fan's opinion on Tennessee's fashion sense; the first comment ("fitting, considering our team plays a relaxed style of football") pretty much sets the tone.

What this means for Georgia? Precisely dick, thanks for asking, since UT fans were (if memory serves) just as demoralized about this time last year right up until the Dawgs strolled into Neyland Stadium and got Keyser Söze'd by the eventual SEC East champs. (Keenan Ivory Wayans pops his head in through the window: "Message!")

• In other adventures in cross-promotion, my Dr. Saturday picks column is up. Trying for a perfect 4-0 after a pretty nice 3-1 record last week.

• In the Georgia preview I did for Deadspin over the summer, I made reference to the informal headline contests we'd have back in college whenever the Dawgs beat up on the 'Cocks of South Carolina. Well, the headline possibilities are certainly just as boundless whenever the Beavers face the Trojans, and even more so when the Beavers come out with a shocking upset win. ESPN's own headline ranks pretty high on the Unintentional Hilarity-O-Meter, but something like this calls for a little intentional hilarity as well, so . . . take it away, Holly:

Trojans Can’t Pull It Out

Hungry Beavers Suffocate Trojans

Trojans Can’t Get It Up For Big Night With Beavers

Sanchez Dirtied By Beaver Attack

Trojans Can’t Come From Behind, Fall Short

22 Trojans, No Protection

I would say "It gets even more out of hand in the comments," but that would imply that it was ever in hand to begin with. My personal contribution, "Trojans Break Under Pressure of Too Much Jacquizz," pays tribute to freshman RB Jacquizz Rodgers's 186-yard, two-TD performance; I welcome your suggestions in the comments.

This is as good a time as any to reiterate my support for a home-and-home between South Carolina and Oregon State. Intersectional Game of the Century? I don't think that's too much premature exaggeration, no.

• And finally, the 17 All-Time Worst "ESPN Gameday" signs. I actually thought the Goulet one was kind of funny.

A memo from the desk of Arnold T. Pants, Esq.:NEED THREE FOUR (OK, six), horrifying sea creatures, and a new gig.

· First things first: I need tickets. Three Four of them, to be exact. I'm hoping to take my family to the Georgia-Georgia Southern game this weekend so they can see a) what will hopefully be a resounding ass-whupping to kick off Georgia's title run with a bang and b) Uga VII's coronation, so if anyone's got a trio quartet of tickets they're looking to unload, I'll be willing to go $50 apiece. In fact, if you have a whole bunch sitting around that you need to get rid of, a couple of my Tent City co-residents are hunting for them as well, so that'd make . . . six? Whatever. If you've got extra tickets, holla.

I've also got a Facebook friends who's got two Alabama-Clemson tickets ready to move for face value plus 20 percent, whatever that adds up to. If you're interested in those, you can e-mail me at the above address.

· Now then: You diehard college football fans have no doubt followed Sunday Morning Quarterback's move to the cash-money-earning promised land of Yahoo/Rivals.com with his new blog, Dr. Saturday; as of tomorrow (in theory, at least), I will be a contributor to said blog. I will be writing a weekly picks column from the point of view of a schmuck who's never actually had enough money to bet on anything, CFB-related or otherwise; if you don't read it for actual wagering advice -- and you probably shouldn't -- you can at least read it so that you can pat me on the head later and say, "That was good, honey! I'm so proud of you!" OK, maybe only my mom is going to do that. But still. Boost my ego a bit and check it out.

· Nothing I write at any point during the season, however, will be as funny as this:

Imagine showing up for work and your boss saying:

“OK (your name), what we need you to do today is to go to a college campus full of hot pussy and be good-looking on national television. Oh, and be sure to watch plenty of football, talk about plenty of football, and hang out with plenty of uber-famous football coaches. Anyway, here’s your hotel key and a few extra copies for any big busty sluts that happen to throw themselves in the general vicinity of your cock during the upcoming Thursday-Sunday time frame.”

You love you some Herbstreit. And please, no comments about the gelled hair. You aren’t fooling anyone. You’re jealous. You’d gel your pubes with hot kitchen grease if it meant taking Kirk Herbstreit’s job for 15 minutes.

Why do you think your girlfriend lets you watch College Gameday, you dense fuck? Because while you’re busy geeking out over which cartoon-animal-face Lee Corso is going to put on top of his head, she’s going for an imaginary ride on Kirk Herbsteit’s pelvis.

If I'd been drinking any milk when I read that this morning, it would've been sprayed all over my keyboard. Read the whole thing, and say a silent thank-you to my college buddy Kevin W. for having directed you to it.



· Also hilarious, "The Top 10 Chick-Repellent Items of 2008," made all the more wonderful by the comforting realization that I don't currently own any of these things. Not even a Bluetooth headset, which, I swear to you, is one day going to be looked back upon as the Members Only jacket of the 2000-aughts.

· Not at all hilarious: AACK ACK GET IT OFF ME GET IT OFF ME IT'S NOT ON ME BUT GET IT OFF ANYWAY.

· And finally, courtesy of Blog of Hilarity, a warning that goes for this blog as well as for the University of Michigan.

A memo from the desk of Arnold T. Pants, Esq.:Billboard semiotics, the spread of the "douchewattage" meme, inappropriate T-shirts, and TV FAIL.

· OK, I got the satire behind the Barack Obama New Yorker cover, but can somebody 'splain this to me?



Don't vote for a Democrat . . . why, exactly? Because then we might not have any more of those awesome nation-unifying events like 9/11?

(Actually, the song he's hawking on his Web site might actually be more offensive -- not to my sense of decency, but to my musical sensibilities.)

· Ostensibly, this quiz is to determine how close you are to being "that guy," but let's call a spade a spade and describe it as it really is: a quiz to determine how much of a douche you are. It even gives your results in terms of temperature, as if to convey how much douche-energy you're giving off . . . hmmmm, where have I heard that one before? My temperature, in case you were wondering, is regrettably "hot"; I don't use a sleep mask or noise-cancelling headphones on planes and I don't describe things as "sick," but I do quote movies obsessively, and as for the thinking-Hayden-Panettiere-is-hot question, well, I think we all know where I stand on that one.

· That said, at least I'm not this guy:



It just so happens that that picture was taken at a police station -- where its subject, Daniel Allen Everett, was taken after attempting to set up a sexual tryst online with someone he thought was a 14-year-old girl. My only regret is that Chris Hansen evidently wasn't there to comment on his shirt. (Which, given the circumstances, shouldn't it have read "World's Greatest Daddy" instead?)

· I'm with Blutarsky on this one -- you do a list of Georgia's top 10 athletes of all time and you don't put my boy Champ Bailey on it?


Pimping: As a general rule, not easy, but easier for some than for others.

· First Bill O'Reilly, now Laura Ingraham . . . man, you right-wingers seem to have some problems with what we call "the TV." After watching the linked video, you can kind of see why her show was cancelled after a run of only three weeks; it was probably for her own safety -- some of her "handlers" you can see in the background there look as if they're compiling mental lists of where they might hide her body.

But what's even funnier is the fact that when she's not complaining about something or grouching at a producer, she spends the rest of the video looking like this:



Close your mouth, Laura. This is national television, not special ed.

But still, you're a treasure. Don't ever change.

· As for conservatives who don't come off like complete 'tards, my Tent City homeboy Josh has gotten some major linkage for his "explosion-by-explosion account" of "Die Hard," which celebrated its 20th anniversary this week. All things considered, if you've got to be obsessed with a particular movie, that's not a bad one to be obsessed with.

Which reminds me: Just when I'd gotten done pissing my pants with anticipation over my iPhone, I get to piss my pants all over again with anticipation for "The Dark Knight," which opens this weekend. If you're in Birmingham and want to join a big group of grown men and women who have been reduced to giggling pre-teens when we go see it on Sunday, holler.

A memo from the desk of Arnold T. Pants, Esq.:Crabs, veeps, and douchebags, oh my!

· On Wednesday I got this month's issue of the Nature Conservancy magazine, and the blurb on the cover said "Counting On Crabs," referring to the importance of horseshoe and other crabs in maintaining the health of coastal ecosystems. Somewhere, in an alternate universe, I like to think I received a copy of that magazine with the same headline, only the subhead read "My wild night with Paris Hilton." Zing! Count it!



· Though I am an avowed Barack Obama supporter in this year's presidential election, you may recall that Obama, as fine a leader as he is, wasn't my first choice. Optimus Prime, regrettably, sat this election out, but it still did my heart good to see MightyGodKing.com include Prime on its list of possible Obama VP nominees:

PROS:
- heroic
- beloved by millions of people
- doesn’t need his own Secret Service detail, as he is a giant battle robot
- can voice over his own ads and it will be awesome

CONS:
- Energon needs may betray problematic views on energy policy
- although technically able to assume presidency on grounds that adoption of current big-rig transformed form counts as a “rebirth” and it happened on American soil, expect a court challenge to his viability
- predictable target of negative ads: “How Do We Know He Will Not Go Insane And Try To Exterminate Humanity?”
- likely Megatron endorsement of John McCain in response

Of course, if Optimus turns down such an offer, there are always other choices. Who, for instance, could bolster the Democrats' national-security résumé more capably than Anthony Stark (I-N.Y.)?

· If it's a generally accepted truism that producers of comedy films will pick out the very funniest scenes from their movie to put in the trailer to entice audiences, what does that say about Mike Myers's upcoming movie "The Love Guru"?



· Turning to things that don't suck, ESPN has already dibsed the TV rights to the Georgia-Alabama game on September 27, which increases the chances that it'll be a night game. And you know what that means: 1) an unforgettable pre-game atmosphere in Athens, and 2) one that, by 3 in the afternoon or so, I'll be too drunk to fully take in. Oh well, I'm sure it'll be fun while it lasts.

· But anyway, since that last video did suck, I'll send you out with one that doesn't: the top-secret, behind-the-scenes version of the legendary Bill O'Reilly "Inside Edition" meltdown that was making the Interweb rounds a couple weeks ago.



Couldn't happen to a nicer guy -- and by "nicer" I mean "bigger," and by "guy" I mean "self-important waste of oxygen." Happy trails, wankers!

A memo from the desk of Arnold T. Pants, Esq.:Psychedelic cotillions, pwn3d reporters, and the return of the Rock.

Gator football '08: They're tanned, they're rested, they're pointing and staring.

• Florida's spring game is this Saturday, and yes, "College Gameday" is going to be there, blah blah who cares. Know what the actual, official name of their spring game is? The "Orange and Blue Debut," which sounds like a particularly garishly colored cotillion (and I'd make a joke about Emmanuel Moody being the one most likely to show up in a frilly debutante dress, but I've probably already made that joke like fifteen times this week). Anyway, while everyone south of the border is popping wood over Tebow and the spread offense and whatever else, Ron Zook has some unsolicited cold water to throw on the proceedings.

• As for our football team, Paul Westerdawg is right: Our coach is awesome.



• How is the above gentleman scoring: in a soccer game or a porn flick? The "O-Face or Go-o-o-al Face?" quiz puts you to the test. I got 12 out of 14, which means I either know a fair bit about soccer or a fair bit about porn. Do I want to know which?

• I'm not gay, I don't write a sexually explicit advice column, and my mom's not dead. (In fact, today's her birthday -- happy 59th, Mom! Don't worry, you're getting a real phone call later on today.) Yet something about Dan Savage's column this week, which eschewed the usual fidelity issues and should-I-let-my-boyfriend-pee-on-me dilemmas to pay tribute to his mom, who died earlier this week, really spoke to me for two reasons. First, his devoutly Catholic mom sounds a lot like my devoutly Catholic mom; she's a lot less averse to cursing, of course (admit it, Mom, you are), but they both apparently have great senses of humor, and if I was gay, I think my mom would handle it with the same kind of open-mindedness and protectiveness that Dan's mom did. Secondly, I wish the homophobes of the far right wing would read it, if only to perhaps switch on their mental light bulbs and hint to them that maybe, just maybe, gay peoples' relationships -- with people of the same sex, with people of different sexes, with lovers, with family members -- really just aren't all that different from their own. Of course, that might be what scares them more than anything.

• As someone trained in print journalism, I love watching TV reporters screw up, particularly in the midst of some goofball segment that was ridiculous to begin with. Join me, won't you, in loving the hell out of this.


http://view.break.com/485135 - Watch more free videos

• Finally: The writers' strike is over, and "30 Rock" returns this evening at 7:30 p.m. (8:30 Eastern). My life is whole again!

A memo from the desk of Arnold T. Pants, Esq.:Even saw the lights of the Goodyear blimp, and it read "Doug Gillett's a Pimp."

· I try not to do much blathering about my personal life on here, but man, yesterday was a good day -- the dogs didn't poop in their crates while I was at work; I went in to re-up my vehicle registration and the fee had gone down by nearly $60 compared to last year; at work, the deadline for a project that had been running way behind schedule got pushed back a month and a half. It was the kind of day that makes you wonder what a middle-class white-guy version of Ice Cube's "It Was a Good Day" would sound like. Obviously I had no opportunity to "feel on the big fat fanny" or "pull out the jammy," but hey, NBC's strike-postponed Thursday-night prime-time schedule resumes tonight, and that's good too, right? Isn't it?


Dogs didn't poop in their crates/Client delayed a project that was runnin' late/County lowered the fee that I had to pay/I gotta say it was a good day.

· As for Tuesday, it wasn't nearly as good, and a full day of frustration and disappointment was pretty much the reason I totally whiffed on an April Fool's Day post. Sorry, the well was just running dry that day, though I did manage to convince a female friend of mine here in Birmingham that I'd quit my job. She got mad at me for punking her and now I owe her a meal, but whatever.

Probably the most disappointing part of the day was that my long streak of pulling righteous April Fool's burns on my parents was broken -- my dad sent me a "Happy April Fool's Day!" text message at 8 a.m., which basically meant "Yes, we're well aware it's April 1st so don't even try any funny shit on us." An exchange ensued thusly:

ME: Darn. Your conscious recognition of this holiday makes it virtually impossible for me to punk you. And I was gonna tell you I'd gotten a girl pregnant, too.

DAD: To fall for that I would have to discount all the grousing about the inadequacies of your love life and the evidence of the sperm swimming across your eyeballs.

ME: Wow. That was graphic. Turning 73 has really loosened you up, hasn't it?

DAD: Old metaphor dating back to college days.

This was all taking place via text-message, mind. My family is not like other people's. (Pops really isn't 73, by the way; that was a jab at his 58th birthday, which we celebrated the last time I was home for a visit.)

None of this, however, stopped him from sending me an "OMG Hillary dropped out!" message shortly before 10 that evening. Bush league, Dad! Bush!

· Back on the topic of things white people like, Holly of Snarkastic has contributed a new chapter to EDSBS's ongoing field guide to various schools' fan bases with "Stuff Orange and White People Like," and in terms of sheer ingenuity and ability to amaze, it's the blog-post equivalent of Tennessee's wideout-option throwback play to LaMarcus Coker for a 56-yard touchdown in last year's Georgia-Tennessee NO NO FLASHBACK IT BURNS IT BURNS MUST BREAK PHIL FULMER'S KNEECAPS ARRGGGHHH. But seriously, it's packed with hilarity for both Tennessee fans and h8erz alike, and the only thing that gives me pause is that Holly (Vol fan) and Orson (Gator fan) are supposedly collaborating on a "Stuff Red and Black People Like" due out sometime in the next few weeks. Whatever, y'all, just keep it clean. And make sure you include Chan Gailey, 'cause we really do love that guy.


If Mark Richt has ice water running through his veins, Chan Gailey had Cream of Wheat.

· As for "Stuff Crimson and White People Like," I don't think they've done one of those yet, but when they do it needs to include "Spinning Bizarrely Complicated Conspiracy Theories About Something A Rival School Is Or Isn't Doing And Then Saying That Proves The Other School Is Obsessed And Paranoid." Senator Blutarsky explains.

· If I ever do actually quit my job, I've already found the next career path I want to shoot for: executive ass-preparation assistant to Gisele Bundchen. I don't even care what it pays.


As for Heidi Montag, Step 1 is "Put on bikini." Step 2 is "Close mouth." There is no Step 3.

· The Superficial also brings us the news of a really super important presidential endorsement. Josh, if Hugo Chavez smack-talking John McCain is enough to turn you into a McCain voter, then this has got to be enough to give you pause:

The New York Times recently called Heidi Montag a "feminist hero" for standing up to beau Spencer Pratt, but the Hills star, 21, isn't backing Hillary Clinton for president.

"I'm voting for John McCain," she tells Us Weekly in its latest issue, on newsstands now.

"I'm a Republican and McCain has a lot of experience," she explains.

Uh-huh. And with that, I think you all know what to do.

A memo from the desk of Arnold T. Pants, Esq.:$12 billion down the tubes, SI's diminishing returns, and random acts of Spitzer-liciousness.

• So it snowed Saturday morning. Proof:





Those pictures were taken about 7:30 in the morning, and the snow had disappeared by 11. Well, it was fun while it lasted.

• Since I laid into David Vitter for nailing prostitutes while serving as Louisiana's senator, it's only fair that New York Gov. Eliot Spitzer, noted patron of the Emperors Club prostitution enterprise, come in for some abuse as well. Spitzer's offense might even be the dumber one, as it was exposed by the very FCC wiretaps that he championed as the state's attorney general, and also because he was considered one of the rising stars of the Democratic Party, perhaps even to the point where people would be looking at him for a presidential run in 2012 or '16.

Just in case nobody got the memo, I'll summarize it for you again: Banging prostitutes is illegal and will make bad things happen to you. Even if you're a powerful politician -- no, especially if you're a powerful politician. I mean, I'm nobody, and if I got caught in some prostitution ring's little black book, I'd get in trouble; when the governor of the nation's third most populous state is found to be hip-deep in paid-for poontang, you'd better believe there's going to be a shitstorm on the way.

I guess what I'm really trying to say is, I'm about as sex-starved as a human being can get right now, and even I've never been dumb enough to let the craving for pussy put my job in jeopardy. What's Spitzer's excuse?

• That said, according to this map, Spitzer still hasn't been anywhere near as prolific with the hos as has, say, Ludacris.


Eliot Spitzer may control the 212, but Ludacris has the block locked down most everywhere else.

• According to estimates by our own government, the war in Iraq is costing us about $12 billion a month. That's billion, with a "b." Over at Lawyers, Guns and Money, Robert Farley has come up with an eye-popping shopping list of all the cool shit the Pentagon could be buying with that kind of money, but I'd like to expand my viewpoint a little bit.

Obviously, since this is Pentagon money we're talking about, we need to take care of them first, so we'll buy them 15 Northrop Grumman KC-45 tankers ($3 billion) and 833 Mine Resistant Ambush Protected (MRAP) vehicles ($416.5 million), and after one year we'll have all 179 tankers and 10,000 MRAPs the military would eventually like to have in its arsenal. Just to be good sports, we'll throw in one B-2 Spirit bomber ($955,128,571) to replace the one that crashed in Guam last month, as well as a couple Boeing 787 Dreamliners ($334 million) they can use however they want.


But if you break this one, that is it! No more!

But the next thing we'll do is take the S-CHIP program and give it the funding expansion that George W. Bush vetoed last year -- in just one month of Iraq spending we can afford to give it Congress's funding increase for an entire year ($7 billion).

And we've still got nearly $300 million to play around with, so I figure now's the time to get selfish -- we can cover Georgia's entire 2008 athletics budget ($70,035,416) and pay off the entirety of their new basketball/gymnastics practice facility ($30 million). And what the hell, a dozen hookers for Elliott Spitzer! Every day for the whole month (at $5,500 per hooker, a total of $2,046,000)! Then we can buy a 12-ounce Coke for every man, woman, and child in America ($182,112,000), and a 2008 Bentley Continental Flying Spur ($173,585) for me, because I did such a good job coming up with ways to spend this money.

And after all that, we've still got just a hair over ten million dollars to blow. Readers, I leave that chunk of money to you. Don't go spending it all in one place.

• Time magazine is coming under heavy fire for putting a gun to the head of one of its employees and forcing her to look at pornography. Only replace "pornography" with "the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue," and "putting a gun to her head and forcing her" with "slid it under her door." Congratulations, America, we are now officially out of stuff to complain about which means that everything is perfect, and I can use this as an excuse to put up a picture of a chick in a bikini.


You're welcome.

• That said, though, is it just me or is the swimsuit issue not nearly as fun (or cool, or racy, or whatever) as it used to be? I can remember buying my first swimsuit issue at the tender age of 12, feeling like a real badass because I was buying something so scandalous; now I browse one at the newsstand and I feel like I'm flipping through the Summer Swim Fashion Spectacular in Cosmo. Am I more mature now? Or just more jaded? Or is it the fact that I now have unfettered 24/7 access to actual porn explicit enough that I don't have to waste any energy mentally erasing Brooklyn Decker's bikini top while turning the pages of a magazine? Whatever, getting old sucks.

• OK, enough serious crap. The NCAA basketball tournament is right around the corner, and even though Georgia has about as much chance of making the field as Eliot Spitzer does of winning the Family Research Council's Man of the Year award, the UAB Blazers still have a shot at getting in, so I'm pumped, baby. And simply by virtue of visiting this blog (and, I'm assuming, being literate), you have earned an invitation to the Big Ass Tourney Pick 'Em Group, the official bracket competition of Hey Jenny Slater.

Simply go to this site, click on "Join Group," and enter group# 46220 and the password "goblazers" (all lower-case), keeping in mind at all times that your participation in this group destroys any chance that you will ever be hired as the head football coach at the University of Washington. Whoever earns the most points for correct picks in the tournament, though, will be called out by name on this blog as the most awesomest person ever, so there's that.

A memo from the desk of Arnold T. Pants, Esq.:Burning sensations, hot Brits, and an internship even Monica wouldn't take.

• Yeah, schmucks, I'm back. Had to go in for a little minor surgery Monday morning -- doctors at UAB Hospital had to remove a cyst from my back that turned out to be a twin I'd partially absorbed in the womb. Apparently the resection process was a little more difficult than it should have been, since the half-developed twin really put up a fight and was clinging onto my spinal cord with its little flipper arms and the docs didn't want to put my central nervous system in danger. But the finally pried the little sucker loose, and we gave my twin, whom I've christened "Danny," a proper burial in the backyard.


It was kinda like this, except dorsal. Kuato-riffic!

OK, everything except the surgery part was a lie. It was just a cyst, nothing special, although they did have to dig pretty deep in there to get it all out, and after a day or two of recuperation, I'm back up to speed, more or less. My back's a little sore, but the worst part of the surgery actually had nothing to do with the incision or the muscles they had to cut into. Kids, do y'all know what a Foley catheter is? Well, it's a latex tube they stick up your johnson before surgery so that you can evacuate your bladder while under general anesthesia without making a big mess. They put it in after you're put to sleep, and they take it out before you wake up, so you're blessedly unaware of all this going on -- but good God almighty, for pretty much the first 72 hours after they yank that thing out, anytime you have to go to the bathroom it feels like you're pissin' razor blades. I'm not trying to gross you out here, I'm just trying to make a blatant, graphic ploy for your sympathy. Hope it worked.

But anyway, everything's just fine other than the fact that my back is really sore and it burns when I pee, which is the aftermath of an average Saturday night for me. So I'll be fine.

• This is what it means to be cared for: Your mom comes up the night before your surgery to drive you to the hospital and make sure your dogs don't tear your apartment to bits; she brings you home for the hospital and immediately heads out to pick you up Frappuccinos and Percocet as you fall onto your bed in an anesthesia-induced haze; and when you wake up three hours later, she's scrubbing your kitchen down to the floorboards. The next evening, as you're lying on your couch watching "Bullitt" on DVD and convalescing, there's a knock at your door and it's one of your best friends from work, bringing a pizza and cake that the folks at your office bought for you. If this "karma" thing is real, I owe the rest of the world a pretty long list of good deeds. (Thanks, guys.)



• On the subject of "Bullitt," I'd like to give circa-1968 Jacqueline Bissett props for being one of the hottest women ever to grace the silver screen, or any other color of screen, in any era; that, combined with Steve McQueen's monolithic bad-assedness, means that not owning "Bullitt" in some format makes you less of a man.

• In my compromised physical state, I had nothing to do Tuesday evening but lie around on the couch and watch MSNBC's coverage of the 3,576th Democratic candidates' debate, and I couldn't help but notice that MSNBC bills itself as "The Place for Politics." However, CNN, throughout its coverage of the 2008 primaries, has made the ballsy declaration that "CNN = Politics." So if both of those are true, does that not mean, then, that MSNBC is the place for CNN?



• Music alert: U2 says their 12th studio album will be released this fall; the Pet Shop Boys say they'll put out a new album in early 2009.

• Last but not least, those of you looking for summer job opportunities need look no further. You need only answer one question: How wide is your stance?

A memo from the desk of Arnold T. Pants, Esq.:Sincere apologies, dunks gone wrong, and License-Plate Shenanigans, Chapter II.

• First of all, my apologies for not having been a more conscientious blogger this week -- I blame a lingering cold-like condition combined with the stresses of breaking in a new puppy whose pissing/pooping schedules don't quite jibe with the previous status quo. Seriously, I've wiped up so much Number One and Number Two off my kitchen floor this past week that I'm up to about Number Seventeen at this point. (Thank God for hardwood, at least.) But don't think for one second that I regret the decision to bring another creature into my home. How can you be mad at faces like these?



Well, there are still ways, actually. But I'm still not giving him back.

• One of my favorite links this past week was on205th's compilation of the 22 Worst Dunks Ever. Maybe it's just 'cause I'm not an NBA fan, but I found the amateur home-video f%$#ups to be way funnier than the pros blowing their showboating opportunities in front of thousands of people. In the end, I found the simplicity of #3 to be the most appealing, though I did factor in some extra points for including multiple replays of both the slo-mo and fast-mo varieties:



It's at times like this that I actually breathe a little sigh of relief that I was a completely uncoordinated, unathletic child, because I was aware enough of my own complete ineptitude that I never would've even attempted something like that, much less filmed it. Score one for the dorks.

• Then again, there's also the dark side of dorkitude, as exemplified by the shrieky pre-teen MySpace obsessive in this video. I'm not embedding it because I haven't yet decided whether I think it's hilarious or gratuitously cruel, but I would like y'all to offer your opinion on it. Are the older siblings in this video being beyond-the-pale bullies, or is this no worse than the usual intra-family teasing, which makes the little brother an unhinged, whiny little bitch? I lean toward the latter, but again, I'd be interested in hearing your opinion.

• Per Senator Blutarsky, we finally have a resolution to the Georgia car-tag brouhaha I rolled my metaphorical eyes at last week: The Georgia state legislature has voted to cease production of special alumni license plates for out-of-state universities. On the one hand, I'd be pulling my hair out as a Georgia constituent over the fact that my state legislature apparently doesn't think it has anything better to do, but on the other hand, at least this is a resolution, and is therefore preferable to the previous situation -- i.e. the state government allowing alumni of other schools to get special tags and then whining like little bitches when people actually take advantage of it. So the law was passed, the highways and byways of Georgia were spared the scourge of special Gator license plates, and nothing bad ever happened again. The End.

• Barack Obama: leader, presidential frontrunner . . . Heisman Trophy winner?



OK, not really, but he did visit the UT football team whilst prepping for tonight's debate in Austin, Texas. Kind of a ballsy move, considering that this means he's writing off the Aggie vote just weeks before the all-important Texas primary, but whatever. (Hat tip: EDSBS.)

Like Sam the Butcher bringin' Alice the meat . . . the Tuesday Mystery Meat, that is.

Wow, I guess it's true what they say, couples really do start to look alike after a while.

· So I watched the NFC divisional playoff game on Sunday, and yeah, I was happy. As much as I've bagged on Tony Romo in the past, I wasn't rooting against Tony Romo; as a near-lifelong Redskins fan, I was rooting against the entire Cowboys team, every last mother's son. If the 'Skins don't get to win a playoff game, then sorry, y'all don't either.

So anyway, yeah, I think the idea that Romes lost the game because he'd spent the first-round bye week nailing Jessica Simpson to within an inch of her life in Cabo is, all things considered, ridiculous. But I won't deny taking satisfaction in the fact that Cowboy fans had to spend time and energy denying this in the first place. Allow me to be realer than real here for a second: Tony Romo was being hailed as the Next Great NFL Quarterback by the Cowboy faithful even before he'd started one fucking game in a Dallas uniform; he was squiring Carrie Underwood about town before he'd played in a single playoff game; he was banging Jessica Simpson before he'd finished one full season as the Cowboys' starter. Brett Favre? Didn't get to be in "There's Something About Mary" until he'd won a Super Bowl. Tom Brady? Had to win a couple Super Bowls before he could get a taste of either Bridget Moynahan or Gisele Bundchen. But here's Smilin' Tony, 19-9 after one and a half seasons as a starter and 0-2 in the playoffs, and he's already defiling blonde starlets right and left.

Look, I don't have a problem with celebrity quarterbacks in principle; I just think you should have to earn it first. And no, having adorable dimples doesn't qualify as "earning" anything. I'm not saying that Romes is Dallas's Heath Shuler just yet, but he still hasn't quite proved that he isn't their Gus Frerotte.

· Oh, and Terrell Owens, and I say this with a heart full of Christian love, shut the fuck up. Donovan McNabb takes you to the Super Bowl and you throw him under the bus, but you turn into the Leave Britney Alone chick over Romo? Whatever, dude. Go get your popcorn ready for the Super Bowl. (Or, alternatively, you could just watch this.)

· And besides, neither one of y'all has it anywhere near as bad as Michael Vick right now. Know which prison he ended up in? I'll give you a hint: It starts with L and rhymes with "Heavenworth." Yup. Don't be surprised if he comes out of there looking like one of his dogs.



· Turning to college, and to a different kind of Dawgs: The final end-of-season BlogPoll and SEC Power Poll are in, and like the Associated Press sportswriters' poll, both have Georgia at #2 with a bullet (each with a single #1 vote for the Dawgs, oddly enough). And the build-up for the Dawgs' 2008 season has already begun, with everyone from Tony Barnhart to Stewart Mandel to even (very grudging) SEC Power Poll host Garnet and Black Attack putting the Dawgs atop their super-early preseason rankings.

Ordinarily I'd be worried about this, because few things have proven to be greater kryptonite to college football teams in the past than sky-high expectations, but the way I see it, this might actually be a good thing. See, the Dawg #1 lovefest is happening early enough to develop a nice little backlash by August, if not way before, so by the time the actual, this-counts preseason polls start popping up in late summer, the pollsters will be sick of having Georgia shoved down their throats and will knock them down to #3 or #4 in favor of the usual media darlings like USC and Ohio State. (And, I've just got this weird feeling, Notre Dame.) So don't worry at all, Georgia fans. It's all falling into place.

· I'm pretty sure we have a winner in the Best Football Commentary Innuendo contest of 2007, and it's Andre Ware's comment about "Vince Hall coming in the face of Peter Lalich." Thanks, Andre, for giving us that delightful pass-rush bukkake mental image, and thanks to all who participated.

· Finally, I've got a couple videos I've been meaning to throw up on here for a while, the first being an SNL parody of the interactive "Dora the Explorer" videos that makes me laugh my ass off every time I watch it:



Watch the video! Watch it! What's wrong with you?!?!

And finally, I know "Family Guy" is a love-it-or-hate-it kind of show, but if you can't laugh at Peter and Lois Griffin's unusual take on bedroom role-playing, then you've got serious problems.


Family Guy - Role Playing - Awesome video clips here