On that note...

This is hilarious, yet not for children.

Welcome to 2008

Welcome to the new year everyone! I am hoping to turn a new corner this year with the blog and return to posting more regularly. I suppose we could call that a resolution for the new year.

In that spirit, one of Shelley's new year's resolutions is to take the homework that her Spanish tutor assigns her more seriously. With that in mind, I give you the "One Semester of Spanish, Spanish Love Song".

From the inbox

Subject: FW: little johnny

I have read countless stories about 'Little Johnny' and his misbehavior in the classroom over the years. I honestly didn't think he existed...that he was simply a hypothetical boy that teachers made up that wasn't real. I stand corrected, and here is photographic proof. Can you guess which one he is?

Photo of the Day

Grace under pressure

Or not.

Guillermo Bourne

TPS Reports

People often ask me about my work and what it's like to go through the creative process with clients. While there are many wonderful things that come out of my client relationships, this cartoon does a witty and uncanny job of pointing out some of the not-so-wonderful elements that are often dealt with.

I feel about this cartoon the way many feel about the movie Office Space.

Funny Wedding Speech

Krunch Time

Tonight Shelley and I hit the Tom Thumb for an emergency ice-cream pit-stop. I enjoy the supermarket, especially later in the evening when the shopping population has dwindled. One of my intellectual abnormalities is a fascination with product packaging (and product jingles . . . but that's not the topic of the moment).

The experience reminded me of something that has befuddled me since adolescence: the Blue Bell Ice Cream box. Who are these people? What was the art director thinking? What's the connection?

The mystery of it all was enough to make me pull out my camera phone and share some late-night thoughts . . .

We'll start with this blue collar, hard-hat-wearing hero. Can someone explain the excessive filth? Did this guy rub chocolate all over this face or does he just not regularly bathe before taking a perfect crescent moon shaped bite out of this Krunch Bar? And there's something a little creepy about the juxtaposition of his brillitant-white, perfect smile. Furthermore, why is this tough guy holding his Krunch bar like it's a little tea cup he uses when he plays with his dolls?

It's all enough to drive me crazy. Seriously... this guy haunts me at night.

Next we have a man that surely regrets ever having dreams of becoming a male model. His career peaked in the freezer isle. From the look in his face, one can apparently only enjoy the Mooo Bar while sitting atop something . . . pointy.

Wow. So many possible directions I could take this one . . . and all of them inappropriate.

Does anyone think this box actually helps the Blue Bell company move ice cream sandwhiches? Honestly, do you want that face staring back at you when you open your freezer? I feel like I should take the box to a priest and have it excorcised before it haunts me forever. "The Power of Christ compels you! The power of Christ compels you!" Yikes.

And finally... tell me this guy doesn't remind you of Christopher Meloni of Law & Order SVU fame . . . in a referee's outfit . . . holding a Great Divide Bar that looks like it's talking to him.

Ok. That's enough of Halloween night at the Blue Bell office for now.

Blowin' in the wind

How times have changed.

The Holiday Hawk

Ok, I know it's been a while since I've posted. It's been a busy month - but I saw this commercial recently and thought everyone should share the joy.

Maybe I do

Burger King makes me laugh.

Always use an ice chest

Last weekend Shelley and I hosted a "Couples Wedding Shower" for my good friend and business partner, Chris, and his beautiful fiancee, Melanie. It was a big soiree that brought nearly thirty people into our home. I was a bit concerned about fitting that many people into our domicile, but as it turns out, we have a much higher seating capacity than I anticipated. Most of the people in attendance were strangers to me, but everyone seemed very kind, gracious and thoughtful.

There was, however, one anonymous visitor who left an indelibly negative impression. This is their story.

A Saturday night party at The Boudreausian palatial estate. As one would expect, our refrigerator was brimming with liquid refreshment of all types. One item in particular was in vast supply: beer. Namely, we had a 12 pack of Heineken (one of my favorites) and 24 bottles of Shiner Bock (a popular choice for other folks). For a party of this size, there was plenty of beer to go around.

Tucked in the back of the fridge was a lone bottle. A bottle who traversed the Atlantic, legally immigrated across our borders, and found a new home in our Jenn-Air fridge. This bottle of icy cold delight contained a special Italian beer that I enjoy above all others. Its name: Peroni. Its taste: heavenly. And so there it sat. The last of a six pack. Pushed to the very back of the shelf to make room for the influx of our party beverages. You must understand: in order to even find this bottle, one would have to dig through an obstacle course of bottled beer.

As the merrymaking was nearing its conclusion, I began picking up some of the empty plates, cups and bottles that were lying around the house.

A few empty bottles by the couch. Got'em.

A plate with a half-eaten chicken breast and dirty napkins on the coffee table. Got it.

A mostly empty cup of frozen margarita on a chair. Into the trash with you!

A nearly full bottle of Peroni on the ledge... wait... WHAT?

I stopped dead in my tracks. Who? What? How?

Shelley noticed my sudden jolt of horror. I raised my hand and pointed in disbelief. I looked at Shelley. She looked at me. My expression spoke for itself as she empathized with my pain. My astonishment. A hug from my lovely bride was my lone, but pleasant, consolation.

Now it's not that I wouldn't have shared my last bottle of Peroni with a guest. In fact, it would have been a moment of kinship. Of great satisfaction. Face to face with a kindred spirit in the beer drinking community. We would have been eye to eye, affirming one another with knowing grins.

But that was not how things transpired. A much more inconsiderate path was chosen by this secret, one-sip, peroni-hating, party attendee.

First: they had to make the effort to dig through the fridge.

Ok, so maybe not everyone likes Shiner. I know I'm not a big fan. Perhaps Heineken is too trite an import for the more astute drinker. To each his or her own.

But after seeking out an alternate beer, they knowingly took the very last bottle of this Italian treat. And then -- and this is tragic end of this melodramatic tale - after opening the bottle... they took a singular sip. Put the bottle on the ledge of a wall nook. And walked away.

Forever.

Un-freaking-believable.

This, my friends, is why people use ice chests.

Real Christians of Genius

Smooth as silk

A surprising twist of fate befell me last week.

Last Tuesday as Shelley was packing her bags for a brief stay in Tampa Bay on business, she mistakenly smuggled my Gillette Mach 3 razor to the southeastern peninsula.

There I was. Alone. Scruffy. Razorless. If the story ended here, surely this would be just another sad, hopeless tale about a guy who couldn't shave . . . or slit his wrists. But no, my friends. For the sake of all things unimportant enough to blog about, the story does not end there.

A simple packing error turned into the closest shave of my life.

That afternoon I went to Walgreens on a mission. A mission to not only find a new razor, but to upgrade my shaving experience. You see, when it comes to facial hair, I may have a few patches that run the race a little slower than the others . . . but where it grows, it grows like marijuana fields in Mexico.

The Mach 3 has always done only a semi-decent -- albeit unspectacular -- job at cleaning me up. Moreover, I have always loathed having to devise a financing plan to cover the overpriced Mach 3 razors. Needless to say, all of this caused me to be quite skeptical regarding what I believed was Gillette's over hyped, overpriced new five blade, money-sucking, face-shaving mechanism: the Fusion.

As I examined the competition, though, I was left with only one conclusion: Gillette is the Microsoft of the shaving kingdom.

First we have Bic. They offer a variety of face cutting tools I liken to orange pixie sticks with an edge. These things look like they could no more easily erase my facial hair than one of their classic erasable ink-ball pens. Perhaps I won't entrust my cheeks to a company whose logo is a man's body whose head has been replaced with a magic eight ball. My sources say no.

Next.

Schick seems like the most viable of adversaries to the shaving giant. But they are certainly no Apple in Microsoft's eye. One reason being, Apple is awesome. Schick is not.

The "Quattro", Schick's premier offering, may be good enough for Andre Agassi's bald cranium, but this wasn't my first encounter with this four-bladed shear. Once in a fit of rage about having to relinquish three tons of bullion in order to purchase an 8-pack box of Mach 3 razors I ended up with a 4-pack of Quattros. I should have thrown in a value-sized carton of Band-Aids.

Was there no worthy competitor in the face razor market?

I briefly recalled watching a movie where John Wayne used something that looked like a machete to shave his chin. After a brief mental assessment of our kitchen knife catalog I decided the butcher's knife was better left to chop the raw meat, not create it.

There was always waxing. Laser surgery. Maybe a patchy beard?

No . . . none of these was going to work for me.

But there he was. My old nemesis. Mocking me for even thinking I could be like John Wayne.

Five blades? That's preposterous. Who needs five blades to shave their face? (Not to mention that sixth blade for those tough spots to reach) Who wants to commit to leveraging a second mortgage to pay for cheeks a smooth as a baby's bottom?

Who?

Apparently, I fit that description quite well. After only a moment's hesitation to do a quick mental reworking of my household budget, I reached for the Fusion.

There it was in my hands. I turned for the cash register. What was I doing? Was I out of my mind? I have resented that Mach 3 for the better part of the past 10 years!

: : dramatic pause : :

Seven days have passed since I sold my shaving soul to the Fusion. I must confess I have no regrets. This is the finest shave I have ever experienced. Shelley is on the verge of Fusion conversion and soon, we will all become part of the Gillette matrix.

These cheeks are as smooth as silk and, in what can only be described as an ironic twist, I can push off shaving for an extra day if I prefer.

Eat your heart out John Wayne.

If you like dogs

Then you'll enjoy this.

Shave Everywhere

Visit ShaveEverywhere.com.

Shave everywhere. I agree.

Ask A Ninja

I found this hilarious.

Flight of the Conchords

Perhaps you've seen one-half of this comedy duo on the latest batch of "Outback Steakhouse" commercials, but if you enjoy silly, songwriting parodists then Flight of the Conchords might be just what the doctor ordered for your funny bone. Then again, I am quite easily amused.

Their official website: http://www.conchords.co.nz/

A good fan site: http://www.whatthefolk.net/

Carpe Forward

I'm sure I am not the only one to whom the following scenario has occurred.

Computer: "Ding"

Stephen: "Awesome. New email. Oh man... it's from an old friend (probably Teno). How exciting!"

Computer: "Friendship is the ship that never sinks. Forward this to 20 friends or risk titanic-like elephantitis on your genitals."

Stephen: "Thanks Teno. What a pal."

Needless to say, the forwarding chain usually ends when it meets my inbox. That, my friends, will probably never change.

But on this very day, much to my surprise, I received a forward (not from Teno) that I thought was a pleasant and creative reminder of an important truth. Instead of forwarding it on to everyone I know, I'll do the next worse thing: post it on my website. Your welcome.

----

A lecturer, when explaining stress management to an audience, raised a glass of water and asked, "how heavy is this glass of water?"

Answers called out ranged from 20g to 500g. The lecturer replied, "The absolute weight doesn't matter. It depends on how long you try to hold it."

"If I hold it for a minute, that's not a problem. If I hold it for an hour, I'll have an ache in my right arm. If I hold it for a day, you'll have to call an ambulance. In each case, it's the same weight, but the longer I hold it, the heavier it becomes."

He continued, "And that's the way it is with stress management. If we carry our burdens all the time, sooner or later, as the burden becomes increasingly heavy, we won't be able to carry on. As with the glass of water, you have to put it down for a while and rest before holding it again. When we're refreshed, we can carry on with the burden."

"So, before you return home tonight, put the burden of work down. Don't carry it home. You can pick it up tomorrow. Whatever burdens you're carrying now, let them down for a moment. Relax... pick them up later after you've rested."

----

Not bad, eh?

I recognize that some of you may feel intellectually insulted by the wisdom via email forward concept. Hopefully everyone's egos can withstand the risk of enjoying this little story and its simple message. If nothing else, it reminds us of Christ's words on this subject.

So contrary to what I once believed, all email forwarding is not of the devil. I still experience great disdain when Teno emails me one of his "forward this, or else..." letters, but like most generalizations... there are exceptions to the rule. For Teno, personal letters are that exception. Haha! Sorry Teno... just teasing.

All of this to say: life is short. Carpe diem, my friends.

Communication Breakdown

"Big Huge"...Where did this term come from? It is everywhere. I've seen it on television shows and movies, read it in newspaper columns and websites, heard it from friends, family and it has even been known to emanate from (gasp!) my own mouth! This is more than a new idiom of pop culture jargon -- it has taken on a form of manifest-destiny and stretched from coast-to-coast.

Seriously. How did the term "big huge" so deeply infiltrate our vernacular? When did it become such an accepted term to describe something large. And frankly, who was the sage elementary student that coined this phrase -- sparking a cultural movement that would penetrate the vocabulary of one of the world's most spoken languages?

Honest-to-goodness, I may be one of the few stirred with such passion, but there's no way I am the only one who has noticed this linguistic phenomenon!

Is huge, by itself, not dramatic enough to express the immense dimensions of an object, issue or event? Are "colossal", "astronomical" and "mammoth" not theatrical enough to communicate the titanic-like measurements of Shaquille O'Neill's gargantuan feet?
Truth be told... I am willing to consider these deeply relevant questions, but defer to a higher standard of neologism.

One of the primary reasons for my displeasure, disapproval and dissatisfaction with the term is its basic lack of lexical creativity. For example, I have heard it often said that something of king-size proportions is "ginormous". This is a witty combination of the words gigantic and enormous. When something is bigger than enormous and more massive than gigantic... this, my friends, is ginormous. Ginormous! Nicely done my good wordsmith!

Am I overstating the issue? Are these merely the ill conceived ramblings of a man who is taking a break from long hours of work? In a word... yes. But words still matter. The manner in which we express ourselves is no small trifle! It's a big! It's huge! It's big and huge! But it is definitely not big huge.

Wild Stallyns!

Need I say more about a movie that redefined movie making in the 20th century? A movie that put a face to several of the most influential figures from the annuls of history? A movie that probed the deeper questions of our existence, our mortality, our....

Ok. I might be indulging in a bit of hyperbole. But Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure (1989) sure was funny. Of course, by funny I mean really, really absurd. Fortunately, as many of you know, absurdity is something I am quite comfortable with. And as you would guess, I loved this movie. Ha!

Here is a mere sampling of what might be called the genius of absurd humor:
Bill: Ted. While I agree that, in time, our band will be most triumphant, the truth is Wyld Stallyns will never be a super band until we have Eddie Van Halen on guitar.

Ted: Yes, Bill. But... I do not believe we will get Eddie Van Halen until we have a triumphant video.

Bill: Ted, it's pointless to have a triumphant video before we even have decent instruments.

Ted: Well, how can we have decent instruments when we don't really even know how to play?

Bill: That is why we NEED Eddie Van Halen.

Ted: And, THAT is why we need a triumphant video.

Bill, Ted: EXCELLENT.

[Air guitar]

And that's one to grow on

Saturday mornings in the 80s wouldn't have been the same without those friendly PSA's from NBC called "One to Grow On". They provided tips and advice that ranged from how to grow your financial portfolio to how to avoid getting hooked on nicotine. But what they really provided was the opportunity for young actors and actresses to show their stuff. And show they did!

Take for example, the renown Jaleel White, aka: Steve Urkel, Stefan Urkael, "Did I do that?". Jaleel got his big start on none other than One to Grow On. Where would situational comedy be today had he not gotten a big time break from the producers at NBC? I don't even want to think about it.

In one of the anti-smoking classics, there is a part when a girl tells the "smoking bathroom girls" off real good.
"Anyway, I have better things to do than stand in the bathroom with smoke in my eyes. See ya around!"

OOOOOOOOOHHHH!! IN YOUR FACE BEEYATCH!!!

You know five minutes later she realized how uncool she was and was back there beggin' for another puff on the magic dragon. (Yeah, I know I'm mixing metaphors... leave it be.)

The Lonely Island

If you've never had a chance to watch The 'Bu, you may want to check it out. Shelley and I have shared many a laugh over an episode of The 'Bu.

The Lonely Island, a group of guys who do satire-parody-comedy-bizarre-ish independent shorts on the web, has created seven episodes of the "prime time teen drama". They are all online and awaiting download.

If you're short on time (or patience), we would recommend episode one as your best bet, yet most off-the-wall episode.

http://www.thelonelyisland.com/thebu.html

October Magic

With a lunar eclipse overhead, a legendary curse on their shoulders, and former Creed lead singer Scott Stapp singing God Bless America, the Boston Red Sox put an emphatic exclamation mark to the end of a remarkable season. In the words of Denny Krane of Boston Legal fame would say, "they pulled a rabbit out of their hat" and shocked the world. Boston never even trailed throughout the entire series. That, my friends, is unreal.

One side note, you've got to be thinking Nomar Garciaparra feels like a dweeb for begging to be traded.

So to wrap it up, two great curses ended this year. (1) The Red Sox finally won another World Series title. (2) Creed finally called it quits.

Congrats to the club and all their fans. Go Cubs and Rangers in 2005.

The Rejection Hotline

People are constantly trying to get our phone numbers. Whether you're single and getting "hit on" all the time or if you just want to buy something at Radio Shack. Well, I'd like to introduce you to the rejection hotline.

Visit rejectionhotline.com to get your digits. Enjoy!

Help settle a debate

Shelley and I have been going back and forth for days. We're starting to lose sleep. And now we need your help.

Please visit this site and scroll down to "Councillor Eileen Kinnear".

We can't agree on whether or not she is wearing glasses or not. Take a look and tell us what you think.

Pork Joke

A Catholic priest and a rabbi are sitting next to each other on an airplane. After a while the priest turns to the rabbi and asks, "Is it still a requirement of your faith that you not eat pork?" The rabbi responds, "Yes, that is still one of our beliefs."

The priest then asks, "Have you ever eaten pork?" To which the rabbi replies, "Yes, on one occasion I did succumb to temptation and tasted a ham sandwich."

The priest nodded in understanding and went on with his reading.

A while later, the rabbi spoke up and asked the priest, "Father, is it still a requirement of your church that you remain celibate?" The priest replied, "Yes, that is still very much a part of our faith."

The rabbi then asked him, "Father, have you ever fallen to the temptations of the flesh?"
The priest replied, "Yes, rabbi, on one occasion I was weak and broke with my faith."

The rabbi nodded understandingly. He was silent for about five minutes, and then he said,

"Beats a ham sandwich, doesn't it"

Bathroom Uniforms

Man of the Year Awards

If guys ran Hallmark

Female Training

Women think they already know everything, but wait... training courses are now available for women in the following subjects:

» Silence, The Final Frontier: Where no woman has gone before.

» The Undiscovered Side of Banking: Making deposits.

» Parties: Going without new outfits.

» Man Management: Minor household chores can wait till after the game.

» Bathroom Etiquette 1: Men need space in the bathroom cabinet too.

» Bathroom Etiquette 2: His razor is his.

» Communication Skills 1: Tears - the last resort, not the first.

» Communication Skills 2: Thinking before speaking.

» Communication Skills 3: Getting what you want without nagging.

» Driving A Car Safely: A skill you can acquire.

» Telephone Skills: How to hang up.

» Advanced Parking: Backing into a space.

» Water Retention: Fact or fat.

» Cooking 1: Bringing back bacon, eggs and butter.

» Cooking 2: Bran and tofu are not for human consumption.

» Cooking 3: How not to inflict your diets on other people.

» Compliments: Accepting them gracefully.

» PMS: Your problem... not his.

» Dancing: Why men don't like to.

» Classic Clothing: Wearing outfits you already have.

» Household Dust: A harmless natural occurrence only women notice.

» Integrating Your Laundry: Washing it all together.

» Oil and Gas: Your car needs both.

» TV Remotes: For men only.

McPrank

There is only ONE thing that everyone has the same amount of, no matter your station in life. That one thing, of course, is TIME. How we use that time really defines who we are. Some people try and make a lasting impact on the world. And others pull pranks on McDonalds.

But some people...yes my friends, some totally awesome people take life by the horns and do both.

http://www.phonelosers.org/mcdonalds/

Doggie Style

Meow

What would you do if you had the following:

1.. time
2.. a knife
3.. a melon
4.. a cat

Men and Women (again)

Men and Women

That's what I'm Tolkien about!

Lord of the Rings rakes in $34.1 million in it's first day -- and attracts large nerd-gatherings.

Wow.

Deep Thoughts with Jack Handey

A personal favorite:

"Dad always thought laughter was the best medicine, which I guess is why several of us died of tuberculosis."

Thank you Rosa

While I know that you cannot possibly put up anything and everything to the coolest website in the world. I thought this might count toward the productivity workshop. This little anecdote was passed along by my co-workers father-in-law. Obviously he visits productivity workshops often. How weird is this...this only takes a second, unbelievable.

While sitting at your desk make continuous clockwise circles with your right foot for 5 seconds. While doing this, draw the number "6" in the air with your right hand. Did your foot change direction?

You've got mail dependency

A new study found that a third of U.K. IT managers (the guys who keep the technical end of a business running) find that having email down for a week is more traumatic than going through a divorce.

http://news.zdnet.com/2100-3513_22-1013611.html