Presidon't

In my first post ever, I decided Rudy Giuliani wasn't allowed to be President. Shortly after my post--and I can only assume, directly because of it--Rudy was out of the race. I'm still not too keen on this guy walking around among the general public without a neck, but so long as he's not leading the free world, I'll make due.

Then, shortly after I wrote about Mitt Romney's heinous attempt to fit in with black people on Martin Luther King Day, he dropped out of the race. Coincidence? I don't think so.

Today it has come to my attention that another presidential nominee is unfit for office. Now I know it's getting down to the wire, but I feel like I should do something. This one is really awkward, so I'm just going to come out and say it.

Mike Huckabee is a squirrel-eater.

Since you don't hear the term "squirrel-eater" bandied about in everyday conversation, allow me to explain. I don't mean squirrel-eater, like: once he ate a squirrel during a camping trip; I mean it like: he used to full-on roast squirrels in his college dorm room with a popcorn popper. Fucking gross. I know. But here's the proof.


Let's recap. When Tim Russert asked Huck about his rodent-sweet-tooth, here's what he said:

I should say it tastes a lot like chicken, but it doesn’t. It, it tastes like squirrel. It’s not the best thing in the world but, you know, when you go squirrel hunting, you got to do something with those things. And part of it was just to say we could do it. I mean, it was a college thing.

For the record, if you've never been to college, steaming squirrels in a popcorn popper is NOT a college thing. For now, Mike Huckabee is in the race. But when he drops out, you know who to thank.

Urinal Games

The act of pissing has lost its luster. There was a time in my life when peeing was like an adventure. I'd use the toilet for target practice, taking tiny steps backward as I whizzed away, trying desperately to increase my distance and accuracy. In the winter I'd giggle with delight as the warmth of my pee melted away the pristine snow. But at 24, I've seen it all. Now I just stand there.

About a year ago I pitched the idea of "urinal games" to some uppity NYC ad execs. Despite my enthusiasm, and painstakingly intricate presentation, they weren't impressed. As I stood in solemn silence before a bland, white urinal during a bathroom break, I mused, "maybe urinals will just never be fun?" But today, when I heard that bars in New Mexico were installing talking urinal cakes that spouted off about drunk driving when soaked with warm, alcohol-laden urine, my humble quest for urinaltainment was at long last renewed.

Imagine a world where every urinal was like ESPN Zone. There would be flashing lights, high-score boards, and fully-stocked bars to ensure that piss flowed indefinitely. Play for free, and piss on Osama bin Laden; or, pop in a quarter, and let the games begin! Honestly, if I'm just standing there mindlessly pissing, why not make a game out of it? Why not go in a clown's mouth, like that game at carnivals where you have to be the first one to pop the balloon? Why not shoot moving targets? Why does pissing have to be so dull? I predict the coming years will bare witness to a stunning evolution of the urinal. New Mexico has taken an important first step. And sure, we're getting there...


But we've got a long way to go.

The Real Y2K

Amid frightening Y2K predictions, the world rang in the new millennium with much apprehension. The year 2000, it was said, would be the end of the world as we knew it. All sorts of hellish, apocalyptic predictions would come to fruition. There would be plagues and pestilence. Floods and Flavor Flav. Some even said the anti-Christ would pop out from behind the ball in Times Square like a Jack-in-the-box. But most importantly, all of the world's computers would reset to 1900, bank accounts would disappear, and humankind would swiftly cease to exist.

It turns out--save a few lunatics in Iowa with tin-foil-hats and a lifetime supply of non-perishable food--nothing really happened. Well, maybe the anti-Christ part...

...but at least my savings account was intact.

But what about 2008? Could something happen this year? Or next? I can tell you right now, the answer is no. But there is something they're not telling you about. And it will affect the lives of every man, woman and child... forever.

You see, in 2000, something did happen. It has been with us ever since. And it will be with us again tonight. Yes. I'm talking about the glasses. The god-forsaken New Years glasses with two-zeros for eye-holes that make person who wears them look like an A-hole.

But guess what? In two short years, just as quickly as they were thrust upon us, they will be taken away forever (unless you live to see the year 3000.) It's the Y2K10 Bug--and NO ONE IS TALKING ABOUT IT! We must spread the word before it's too late. So if you see someone wearing 2008 glasses tonight, tell them to enjoy them while they last. I predict, here and now, that the 2009 New Years glasses will sell out faster than the iPhone--because after that, unless you're a fucking cyclops, New Years will never be the same.