Rochambeau-shit

I have a gripe to file with the inventors of Rock-paper-scissors: Why does paper ever beat rock? Rock's strong, fortified, filled with sediment. Paper? Flimsy. A shadow of its former self. Paper should beat nobody -- especially rock. Did you see the way rock just annihilated scissors? Did you?? Let that be a message to you, paper. And newsflash: When did simply covering something denote victory of any kind? A jacket sometimes covers me -- does jacket beat Gregg? Never. Gregg always beats jacket. Paper, quit masquerading as a winner. At the end of the day, rock cuts like a knife. Just ask scissors. He's a fucking mess.

Media Ma-Sheen

Anyone heard from Charlie Sheen of late? I’ve been off the radar for about a week or so, and haven’t really been watching TV, or online, or listening to the radio, or living or breathing. I just want to make sure he’s not angry with anybody -– and if possible, hear his opinion on every subject known to man. If anybody hears anything, just let me know…because this prolonged silence? Totally disconcerting.

To Pee or Not to Pee

Is it me or does this ad for enlarged prostate drug RAPAFLO not look like an ad for The Hangover II? Put aside the fact there's a man actually urinating on the side of the road. Or that his prostate is apparently the size of a balloon animal. Or that it's Locke from Lost. I have to say: this trip looks fun. He's got the convertible. Lady friend. What's the big deal if he needs a pit stop? She can catch up on texting. Maybe even floss. He can give the starved earth some long deserved nutrients. But no. The drug companies say you should fear this scenario. They remind you that frequent urination can ruin the flow of life -- especially when you're absconding to Vegas with your whore mistress. Frankly, I'd be more worried about the drug's side effect that includes having an "orgasm with reduced or no semen." 'Cause that's just not going to fly. Especially on this little road trip.

Cupid Idea

I thought the idea was to keep your wife off the pole? This year, novelty superstore aahs! has infused a new Valentine’s Day gift into their arsenal: the stripper pole. Naturally, it’s $69.99 -- and it's such a good idea that the woman in the ad asked to be pixelated beyond recognition. Were the candy hearts with the inscription “Eat me” just not selling? Because after all, nothing says ‘I love you,’ like ‘Honey, this family could really use another source of income.’ Maybe I’m wrong. Perhaps it's just an elaborate ploy to boost the ranks of volunteer firefighters. If that's case, thanks aahs! for contributing to the notion of public service. I mean, clearly that’s why I now own three of them.

Repeat Offender

Is it me, or will this monkey never pull it together? 70 years and hundreds of books later, he’s still can’t figure out he’s got a problem. Time after time, he turns life’s greatest pleasures (i.e. making pancakes or going to the zoo) into unfortunate chaos. When will he get into the swing of things? Even my three-year-old, who knows very little about restraint, rails against this monkey's poor decision-making. I’m here to say this: Don’t be fooled. Just because this monkey's got an innocuous smile and disarming good looks doesn’t mean he’s not capable of terrible things. People have done a lot less and ended up with 30 to life and a prison bitch. And notice how PETA has never defended him? We can't even chalk it up to OCD -- as I've yet to read Curious George and the Super Clean Doorknob. He needs an intervention, people -- and we can’t assume the Man with the Yellow Hat will pull it together. He still hasn’t figured out that yellow is just a seasonal color. Who's with me?