THE FICTION SCRIBE

Is that the lead singer from Survivor?

2006-09-26T12:45:00.000-04:00

Real Men of Genius, indeed. I swear if there are better, more hilarious commercials on TV and radio, I have yet to see/hear them. Over the weekend, I was listening to football on Sirius radio (perfect marketing, since males would thing these goofy, ridiculous commecials were funny) and a classic came on:

http://thefuntimesguide.com/audio/Bud_Light_Real_Men_of_Genius_Mr_Hair_Gel_Overgeller.mp3

Streams of Barq's Red Cream soda shot out of my nostrils as I listened to it, carefully trying to remember the bit in order to recite it verbatim to people. Of course, I didn't do it any sort of justice. Then, today, as I sat in the orthopaedic dorcor's office, I came up with a good one. Since Beth The Westie is a radio gal, maybe I could collaborate with her to create our own version. I'm sure she sings well.

I'll keep you posted, but in th emeantime, here's a link to more of the commericals!! Just don't drink any liquids while listening to them…..

http://thefuntimesguide.com/movabletype/archives/2004/10/bud_light_real.html

They don't call it La La Land for nothing...

2006-09-14T10:57:00.000-04:00

Well folks, I have been away for what seems like a dog's year, and I appreciate all the kind words everybody wrote. The past three weeks (vacation aside) has been less that stellar, to say the least, but I don't want to bore you with all that. I want to tell you all about my trip to beautiful San Diego! Yeah!

It is truly one of the best places I have ever seen. We visited the San Diego Zoo, Coronado Island, Gaslamp Quarter - it was all great. Weather was great, my lovely wife was great. As mentioned in the above picture, she catered to my every need just as a good wife is expected to. I was never arms length away from a cool drink or some other form of comfort.

Los Angeles was weird and kooky. The weirdest moment came when driving down Sunset Boulevard and seeing a homeless guy at a bus stop with his genitalia hanging completely out. Another weird LA moment came when I was buying some freshly squeezed orange juice at a farmers market and a hooker on a bicycle rode past and began to violently shake her butt cheeks at me. Thank God she didn't hit my arm; there isn't enough Purell in the world to cleanse that stain.

NOTE: WE WILL BE IN "THE PRICE IS RIGHT" STUDIO AUDIENCE ON TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 19TH!!!!!! LOOK FOR THE BIG GOOFY GUY WITH A BLUE "KENTUCKY" SHIRT, AND THAT'D BE ME.

Pics to come soon.....Holla!

I'm Baacckkkk!

2006-09-06T14:56:00.000-04:00

Howdy all,

I have returned from San Diego/Southern California and let me tell ya it was wild. We weren't wild, though, because we are boring, but we still encountered some stuff nonetheless. I got in at 3am last night and awoke to more family drama, but I'll be back tomorrow with a complete report!
Plus, I will begin making my rounds to everybody's sites again. Sorry it has been a crazy two weeks, but your ole buddy is back and ready to go!

Holla!

A Tribute to a young friend

2006-08-28T09:10:00.000-04:00

Hello friends,

I am sorry for not being around so much lately, but as you might have noticed through the title, we have had a death in our circle. My oldest step-daughter's best friend - a young, vibrant, sweetheart of a girl - passed away a couple days ago after complications from surgery.

She was only 16 years old.

The funeral and memorial will be today. She was loved by many, especially my step-daughter. They had been the best of friends since they were 5, meeting on the cusp of a new and exciting time for them - kindergarten. Boy, I'll never forget my kindergarten days, lying in the sun on my blanket for an afternoon nap, as it beamed in through the windows straight from heaven itself. I can only imagine what this young girl's family and friends are going through.

It pains me as well as makes me smile to know that her last vacation was with us, as we loaded up the family truckster and headed to Hilton Head, SC in mid-June. While there, she casually mentioned something about surgery over the summer, but would be ready to go by fall for highschool. Sadly, this would not come to pass.

She passed away on the eve of the first day of her junior year.

Instead of her friends babbling on about boys and the new people in school, they will be wearing black and crying until it feels they will never stop. On top of this, we will be going on a planned vacation this Wednesday, so I probably won't be posting too much until I return. Please know I appreciate all your kinds words you may write, and I will catch up as soon as I return.

Friends, if you believe in prayer, or even in you don't, I ask on this day that you look up into the sky and say a kind word or two for a fallen friend, daughter, and sister; for a girl who hadn't even begun to live her life yet lived it everyday; for a girl who should be in Algebra class right as we speak, instead of her final resting place.

She will be sorely missed.

Where's Chuck Woolery when you need him?

2006-08-23T12:00:00.000-04:00

Well, leave it to the WB to make some of the God-awfullest* programming on television. So I sat, last night, bored as can be, and I see my daughter has taped “Elimidate”. Out of morbid curiosity, I decided to give it a shot. I was shocked at the levels of stupidity, arrogance, and whoreishness on this show. The premise, for those who haven’t seen it, is a contestant of genetically marginal material is picked and goes on a date with 4 members of the opposite sex, finally narrowing their choice to only one person to go share DNA with. And these contestants aren’t future rocket scientists like BV, either. One guys’ main criteria for his perfect mate wasn’t good morals or ethics or even intelligence – it was being a good kisser. In the end, he got what he asked for – and more.

Here’s a scenario:

Idiot guy: Hi ladies, my hobbies are playing with big boobs and listening to Def Leppard. So, what are your hobbies?

Dumb girl #1: Heh heh! My name’s Amber! My hobbies are donating my eggs and fighting deadly diseases, like glaucoma, and bad breath.

Dumb girl #2: My hobbies are fellatio and guessing people’s age and weight at the fair! Oh, and Amber, you’re a b-tch, and you’re ugly., and I cannot believe people pay for YOUR eggs.

Dumb Girl #3: My hobbies are looking at myself in the mirror. Oh, and fellatio.

There was much more, but I’ll spare you the details. It never ceases to amaze me how a person (Dumb Girl #2) can actually make fun of a person for donating their eggs and misspell “OB/GYN”, yet have the wherewithal too bump and grind and play tonsil hockey with a stranger on national TV. The idiot actually spelled it “OBGOYNN”. I wouldn’t be shocked in th eleast to hear these people have been contacted by the Eugenics Council to enter their forced sterilization program.

After the show ended, I honestly considered suing WB to either return the hour I just lost or prepare for a long and costly trial. But then, I realized why this show is actually on the air, and more importantly, how this show can be improved in order to increase ratings. Instead of having the contestants, after they have been eliminated, simply make their hollow jibe and leave, they need to kick it up a notch. Here goes:

1. Being cut first has to be unbelievably humiliating, so, to help with their bruised egos, I propose that the 1^st Round loser simply take a detour on their way home, stop in the local bar, and drink themselves to a irreversible coma. Then, let nature do the rest.

2. 2^nd Round loser be sentenced to orderly work at a nursing home for a month, and not some clean, sanitary place, but one of those bottom-feeder ones where the poor people keep unhealthy layers of spittle and feces encrusted on themselves for weeks on end. I guarantee Elimidate will be a far off memory by the time they change their first MRSA-riddled adult diaper.

3. 3^rd and Final round losers will have the option of having their eyes gouged out with dull pencils or be forced to watch a 48-hour Pauly Shore marathon (I’d take my chances on the pencils).

4. And, finally, for the “winner” of Elimidate, they should have the option of either death or proceed with the date. I have made the former an option in the rare case someone has enough sense to choose this.

Now, with improvements like these, how can it not be a good show?

*Not sure if that is a word - I guess I could be Elimidate material after all.

He's a loathsome, offensive weenie, yet I cannot look away

2006-08-21T13:07:00.000-04:00

Look at that gristly photo - I've seen better necks than that on chickens at Kroger. I must admit, I have recently joined the JonBenet story bandwagon, mostly because like seeing a car accident transpire, I know I should not be looking but I cannot turn away. Plus, that John Mark Karr is hands down one of the oddest, weirdest people ever to have been born. Just looking at him sends me into a fit of rage, yet there I am, like a love-sick school girl, mesmerized by the story of this sweaty, slimy, hairless pervert and his odd enganglement of events. It looks like his head is 6 sizes too large for his body, and Sweet Lord what a grill! That smile of his, exposing an array of teeth - double rows of them even. He makes me nauseous simply by looking at him. Just to show how unusual he is:

1. He married a 12 year-old when he was 18.
2. Said 12 year-old divorced HIM a year later. Wow.
3. He married a 16 year-old when he was 21.
4. He has discussed sex-change operations.
5. He has had facial hair permentantly removed to prepare for said operation.
6. He buttons his top button of his shirt.
7. He pulls his pants up to his navel area.
8. When found in Thailand, he was not wearing a belt.

And these are the best qualities!

Anyway, there isn't a doubt in my mind that this guy, if found guilty, won't last a month in prison. Just watching the Thai police manhandle him like he were one of those geeks in Sixteen Candles was shocking, because the last time I checked, Thais weren't known for their manly men. I have held the notion that Thailand mostly consists of transient whoremongers, trannys and horny prostitutes with nether regions chock full o' STD's. Hell, he probably won't survive too well in L.A. County jail much less real prison, especially after the 5-star treatment he received on the flight over. No more pate and fried prawns where you are going, buddy! I might even start looking for online betting services that will take bets on the duration of his prison "stay". You know me - I hate to waste an opportunity to make a little money, especially on someone else's fate.

Even if he is innocent of this crime they should lock him up for just being a creep.

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To lighten things up a little, here are some simple home remedies for naturally occurring problems in the home. I didn't think of them, but wish I had:

1. If you are choking on an ice cube, don't panic. Simply pour a cup of boiling water down your throat, and, Presto! The blockage will be almost instantly removed.

2. Clumsy? Avoid cutting yourself while slicing vegetables by getting someone else to hold them while you chop away.

3. Avoid arguments with the Mrs. about lifting the toilet seat by simply using the sink.

4. For high blood pressure sufferers: simply cut yourself and bleed for a few minutes, thus reducing the pressure in your veins. Remember to use a timer.

5. A mouse trap, placed on top of your alarm clock, will prevent you from rolling over and going back to sleep after you hit the snooze button.

6. If you have a bad cough, take a large dose of laxatives. Then, you will be afraid to cough.

7. Sometimes, we just need to remember what the rules of life really are: You only need two tools - WD-40 and duct tape. If it doesn't move and should, use the WD-40. If it shouldn't move and does, use the duct tape.

It's "Mr. Kentucky Born Ahole.net" to you

2006-08-15T13:54:00.000-04:00

The picture is completely unrelated...I just thought it was funny.

I hate to talk about a topic which is very similar and related to a recent post, but in a way this rant will be completely unrelated, so nevermind. As I was surfing the net at work today during my multi-hour task avoidance period, I stumbled upon an odd story, to say the least. It seems three people employed at PETA (People for the ~~Eating of Tasty~~ Ethical Treatment of Animals) recently decided to change their names to PETA-affiliated websites. Yes, you read that right. I can appreciate sticking to your convictions, but what kind of crazy do you have to be to LEGALLY change your name to "Mr. Kentucky Fried Cruelty.com"? The other two people legally changed their names to "GoVeg.com" and "Ringling beats animals.com." Wow.
But as kooky as that story was, I was more shocked by this next one. The PETA story wasn't too odd, mainly because we all know vegetarians are kooks anyway (kidding, just wanted to see if you were still reading at this point). In Vietnam, a 19 year-old young man finally got his name changed. His father, obviously insane, named the poor bastard, Fined Six Thousand and Five Hundred - in reference to the amount he was forced to pay in local currency for ignoring Vietnam's two-child policy. Following his dad's line of thinking, he switched it to Golden Dragon. What's next for his younger sister, Miss Me-So-Horny?
So, in lieu of the recent name-changing fad, as the title states, I want you all to start calling me "Mr. Kentucky Born Ahole.net" from now on. I ran "The Big D-ck Daddy from Cincinnati.org" past my wife last night and got nothing; I took her silence as an emphatic hell no. Then, I threw out "Mr. Kentucky Born Ahole.net" , and got the reply "That's more you, honey."

A new name was born.

I will soon be integrating a Prince-like symbol for my new name; God only knows what it will look like, but with a last name like Ahole.org, I have a couple of ideas.

Oh Brother, Where art thou infirmary?

2006-08-10T14:01:00.000-04:00

Tuesday night, I had my second indoor soccer match. Let me remind you, I signed up for a beginner league, all-male, 25 years and older. Our first game was against a team that called themselves a "Bunch of Accountants"; in reality, they were former college soccer players - some at pretty reputable universities. This past game, we played a local high school team where the goalie as a girl and the median age was 15. They ran circles around me, literally. Here is a list of injuries I sustained:
1. multiple shin contusions
2. Twisted ankle
3. Twisted knee
4. Hit in the groin with a soccer ball from 15 feet away

I kid you not, after that last one occurred, I went down like a sack of feed corn. It was so painful, my unborn children felt that blow . To top it all off, some fat guy in the stands (why people come to watch us I have no clue) was supposedly making disparaging remarks about my soccer skills (or lack thereof). C'mon, you fat b-stard! I'll kick your butt in basketball three ways from Thursday! I have no idea what that means, but it proves I am serious!!

I am starting to think mgc is right by saying, "What the hell do you think you are doing playing soccer - especially at your age?" I should have listened to you, buddy.

It's a wonder we weren't killed

2006-08-07T10:01:00.000-04:00

Spending time over the weekend with some old friends of mine (Trav, Katie, Missy, and Michelle) got me to thinking about some of the ridiculous things we all did as teenagers. We are all lucky adults, considering some of the stunts we pulled, some of the people we associated with, some of the ass whoopins we totally deserved yet managed to slither out of.

Case in point: It was a Friday night, in good ole Hogtown, and myself, along with my twin bro Bruce and our buddy Travis, were handing out in the parking lot in town called Beaumont Plaza. As sad as it sounds, it was the cornerstone of any weekend activity. At Beaumont Plaza, we would get in our cars (as many people as we could fit in, preferably with a higher female-to-male ratio), and literally cruise around in a loop in a desperate attempt to find something better to do, which usually occurred after a couple hours of wasting gas and/or time. This particular Friday evening, the three of us couldn't have hand-picked a bigger collection of panty wastes and douchebags (us included) to be hanging out with if we wanted to. I am not exaggerating when I say to you we looked like the incoming class from Revenge of the Nerds. Hopefully, I would have been considered the Lewis or Gilbert of the bunch; but most likely I was that weird guy who picked his nose ad infinitum. At the time, I was the biggest one there, and I weighed 160 pounds.

So, there we were,hanging out around our vehicles, waving and talking to people, hoping to be noticed. And noticed we were. We were aligned up in a row, with me and my brother on one end, and the rest of us exponentially getting shorter and skinnier as the line went. I think the last one of us was a buck 0-eight dripping wet.

A couple of guys come up and begin making trouble. One of them, Mitchell Searcy, was probably the oldest sophomore in recorded time. He could purchase his own alcohol, and, as a matter of fact, did just that previously that evening. He was drunk as hell and ready to whip some scrawny nerd ass (insert us here). He grabs the neck of the Jack Daniel's bottle (c'mon loser, you a Kentuckian, at least threaten us with a bottle of Kentucky bourbon like Jim Beam), and repeatedly proceeds to ask all eight or nine of us, "You want me to bust you gawddammed head? I'll bust your gawddammed head!" He says this to every one of us, raising his bottle even higher as he walked. Even in the face of danger and quite imminent and certain death, we cannot stop laughing. To not crack up laughing in his face was one of the biggest test of wills I have ever faced. Mitchell Searcy, like a drill seargant gone berzerk, ruched down to Travis and got about one inch from his face. Bourbon soaked spittle was flying everywhere. I know as much as I am sitting here that if Trav wasn't wearing glasses, he would have suffered permanent visual loss that night. Somehow, Trav always managed to take the blunt of everything, and tonight was no exception.

Maybe it was his continual smirk plastered on his face; maybe it was the fact that although half the Redneck's size, he wasn't frightened in the least; maybe it was that he most likely mumbled derogatory insults pertaining to the female anatomy (insert the p-word) toward the Redneck and his friend - we will never know. What we do know is that we miraculously got off without so much as a hair out of place, and, about a quarter of a mile and an hour or so later, it took 4-6 large police officers to subdue a maniacal drunkard none other than Mitchell Searcy. He was kicking his way out of the police cruiser so violently we could hear it from our end of Beaumont plaza. I heard later he got his face bitten off while in prison, so I guess things indeed do come around full circle.

It was one of the funniest moments of our misspent youth. More stories to come.

Next time, I'll order the steak

2006-08-02T20:53:00.000-04:00

I had a bit of a wait this evening while in line at Chipotle Mexican restaurant, and while I was there, I saw a sign they had plastered above our heads that mentioned their ethical treatment of the chickens they serve in their burritos and tacos. Now, mind you, I don't normally eat at this establishment, mostly because it is sometheres near $6.00 for a burrito and extra for tortilla chips and a drink. After it is all said and done, you end up spending close to $10 for a burrito dinner that is close to 90% rice. Rice, I implore you! I can go to the grocery store and buy enough rice to feed Ulaanbaatar for a decade. I mean, seriously, rice is the least expensive thing in there next to air. All of this got me to thinking: Why are these damn burritos so costly? What is in them to warrant such a hefty price tag? Then, like a beacon of light from the sky, I saw the aforementioned sign.

It smugly said something along the lines of, "All of our meat is kept in open areas, fed grain, and not injected with hormones."

"That is it!" I thought to myself. Actually, I mumbled it outloud, causing some of the people in line behind me to give me the once over. "That is why it takes the equivalent of the GNP of a third-world country to feed me."

I almost considered asking for "non-free-range chicken"* just out of spite, simply because I was apalled at the prices they are gouging the public with. I'm sure the goth teen would sardonically smile at me through her array of lip rings, then vow to spend the rest of her life making people like me uncomfortable; that, or spit on my ethically-treated yet boring-as-hell chicken.

Which is exactly what it is - BORING! No one in life likes hearing stories about lily-white, cornfed, nice, well-treated, pampered people, and we shouldn't ask that that of our game as well. The way I see it, "free range" equates to bland and tasteless. When I see a chicken with no hormones injected, I see a chicken with no character or personality. We get tougher whenever we live through crisis and strife, and I see no point in not allowing the same for fowl.

As I gave her my free burrito coupon (yes, I wasn't even going to pay anyway, but it is not the point), and saw the hatred gurgling over, I decided to hold off on asking....maybe next time.

*No chickens, or anthing else for that matter, were hurt during the writing of this post or the creation of my awful photoshopped chicken coop. Some chicken got ate during my dinner, but not a whole lot.

Sleep, sleep my darlings

2006-07-31T09:03:00.000-04:00

Hey everybody! Overall, the book signing was a total success. I signed and sold every copy the bookstore had in stock (15 copies). Actually, most of them were sold in the first 1/2 hour! I will be in Lexington, Kentucky this Friday evening from 7pm-9pm, at the Barnes and Noble in Hamburg Pavillion off Man-O-War Road.
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I have a sleep study tonight, which is truly one of the few things in life that is as un-fun as it sounds. The photo above illustrates what I will be looking like tonight, only I am not Chinese...or female...and the lights will be off. So you can disregard it, because that photo does a real shitty job of illustrating what I will look like tonight - tonight, I may remind you, as all of you will be sleeping comfortably in the cozy confines of your beds or the bed of some stranger you picked up at your local watering hole.

I had one in May, ordered because I am always exhausted in the mornings, had a bit o'heart palpitations. They think it is all related to my nocturnal breathing. I am writing all of this to you for lots and lots of sympathy. Here's the gist of the test:

I go into the lab and change to sleeping attire. Then, I have bundles of wires and electrodes (close to 50 or so electrodes) hooked up to me - this is what I am supposed to sleep in. I have to stay on my back for the duration of the night.

Last time, I had a boatload of weird dreams, most of them involving me and the sleep lab I was currently sleeping in. I was rubbing some strange woman's foot; I had a person break into the room I was sleeping in and try to rob me; and another one in which I escaped the sleep lab via the elevator of the one-story building.

I also had a bunch of sleep apnea episodes, most of which caused arousals........of sleep......not the kind most of you pervs are imagining. That is what I thought, though. Instead, it means I am being forced awake by my lack of proper breathing. Of course, when the tall, attractive sleep doctor came in to the exam room last Friday and starting talking about how many arousals I had through the of the night, I thought "Oh, Lord, kill me now". I was prepared to tell her I really had to pee and it wasn't my fault!

If all goes well, I will be out of there by 5am and heading home to clean up and go to work. How fun does that sound? Feel sorry for me yet?

Why? Why? Why?

2006-07-27T10:49:00.000-04:00

Marsha, Marsha, Marsha! There is a seemingly unending list of questions in our universe, most of them unanswered to the lot of us. I know not the answers, young Jedis, so sage or wiseman I claim not to be. Instead, I have a few new ones to go along with some of the unanswered questions as old as time itself. If you have any knowledge on any of these post them here for the world (or at least all of my readers) to see. Here goes:

Why is a promiscuous guy considered a stud, when a promiscuous girl is a slut?*
Why are odd, rich people considered eccentric, yet odd, poor people are just weirdoes?
If Jimmy cracks corn, and no one cares, why is there a song about it?
Has anyone EVER seen a No. 1 pencil?
If 1 out of 5 people suffer from an STD, does that mean the other 4 people enjoy their STD’s?**
Are tornadoes really attracted to trailerparks, or is God a bigot?
When fat people swim naked, why isn’t it called “fat-dipping”?
If practice makes perfect, and yet nobody’s perfect, then why bother?
Why do we drive on a parkway and park on a driveway?
Why do women throw their panties on stage, but men never throw boxer shorts?
If rhetorical questions have no answer, why again do we bother asking them?
Why is the Pope the only guy who can wear a hat in church and it not be considered rude?
Why does the word "lisp" have an "s" in it, when we know good and well people with lisps cannot pronounce it? Was that a cruel, albeit funny, joke?

I had several more, but I drank a little last night and forgot them. I am sure I’ll remember them laying/lying in bed tonight, only to forget them again tomorrow.

* On this topic, I really don't care, mainly because I am a guy, but to be sensitive to my female readers, I put this on the top of the list.

** Simulated conversation of 5 sexually active people discussing STD's:

Sally: I have herpes. (sobs)
Jimmy: I have the clap...High five!
Paul: I have genital warts. I could kill that b-tch; I wanted gonorrhea.
Allie: I got crabs from a toilet seat in a truck stop off I-75! Mama always said I would be successful!
Carmen: Whoo hoo! I just found out from the health clinic that I have syphillis! Party time!

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I heard some startling news coming out of Ohio this morning. It seems legislation is being sent through trying to make strip clubs, and, more importantly, lap dancing, illegal. This is also coming from the same legislation outlawing gay marriages. I say let the gays get married. They should be as miserable as the rest of us!

Seriously, why make lap dancing illegal? I do not frequent those sorts of establishments, but I hardly see the illegality in all of it. Try cleaning up drugs, murders, rapes, thefts, vandalism, child abuse, etc. Then, if lap dancing still seems so bad, go after the tassels and thongs.
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I have another book signing this weekend! Yeah! It will be held Saturday, July 29th, 2006, at Barnes and Noble Booksellers, located at Newport On The Levee, in Newport, Kentucky. Times are 2pm-4pm. Hope some of you can make it! I’ll have candy!

Watch out, Zidane, here comes barry

2006-07-25T13:28:00.000-04:00

I have come to the conclusion that I have a death wish or something - that, or I was dropped on my head as a child - but regardless of the reasons why, I will be playing in a soccer (football, for all of my non-American friends) league this time next week. I say death wish because:

I am out of shape
Soccer requires lots of running, which being in shape helps out with - a lot
I haven't ever played soccer before
Knowing how to play soccer helps out when playing soccer - a lot
I am 6'4" and 230 pounds, which, to most small, in shape, fast soccer players equates to "kick it away from the fat ass!"
I am out of shape

Now, knowing good and well that I signed up for soccer league, you would have thought that I would have gone out and kicked the footy around a bit; that, and/or not have a half-dozen or more frappuccinos from various coffee establishments around the area within the past week or so. The unbelievable thing about this little tangent is that I have successfully avoided paying for any of these cool, sugary coffee drinks. I swear I have lost count, but I think it has been 7 or 8 coffee drinks I have somehow managed to get free in the past month. Why, before this past month, I don't think I have bought 8 frappuccinos in my life! Note to self: This might explain why my pants aren't as loose as they used to be in June. I have no control over myself when it comes to these things as of late, and I better get a grip or I will be vomiting on the faux grass as well as sucking wind next week.

I think this soccer thing will help me out in the long run, though, what with all the running. I also have been doing some bike riding lately, and I plan on (hopefully) do a triathlon within the next year (I also hoped to be an astronaut as a child, so we'll see where it leads).

But first, one step at a time, and from watching the World Cup, soccer requires a lot of stepping. Maybe I could just be the goalie? Now, that's an idea. Stand around for most of the game, and try my best to avoid them from scoring when they kick it to me. Oh, and I might get to wear those cool-looking gloves. Chicks dig soccer players, because they have great hair, are in shape - and weird. Since I have no hair and not in shape, I can at least be one of the three. That will attract the fans (read in: trampy women) fo sho.

So, from now on, I am dropping my last name, and will only be referred to as "barry". I'll even keep it lower case to be more enigmatic. There's no doubt in my mind that by season's end, I'll have a whole gaggle of scantily-clad soccer trolls, fighting tooth and nail to buy me my post-footy, iced-coffee drink.

Yeah, that sounds nice.

A little warning for potential thieves - we will find you

2006-07-20T08:02:00.000-04:00

Hey! Just to let all of you know, I will be at the Borders Books and Music in Crestview Hills, Kentucky this Saturday from 2pm-4pm. It is in the Crestview Hills Towncenter, located a few miles south of downtown Cincinnati. Hope you all can attend! I also have a copy of my radio interview and I am working on getting it available to listen on here; as of yet, I am still unsuccessful. Now, onto my rant...
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As I was driving into work this morning, I passed a guy on a bicycle, and I thought of something from my past that instantly angered me. Before I go any further though, I suppose I should backtrack a little and give you a little history. ...

I was fifteen, a quick -witted country boy with no means of transportation. My brother Bruce, and all our friends, would work mowing lawns or other odd jobs in order to save our funds to buy something, something all of us so desperately wanted to attain: a 12-speed racing bicycle. All of us were under sixteen years old, where like the rest of the country Kentucky is on par with in getting our drivers license. Normally, we prided ourselves in being at least 8-10 years behind any trends in society or rules of law, but somehow this one slipped through the cracks. Anyway, we all got our bikes, and the list of brands we purchased were like a Tour de France: Nishiki, Raleigh, Cannondale, Trek. Mine was a black Motobecane Mirage, and, even back then, it cost me $260. That was 20 years ago, friends. Nowadays, it would cost $500-$700. I loved that bike - it was totally awesome. We went damned near everywhere on those things, and since we lived in the country, traffic wasn't as much of a concern, so our parents felt safe in letting us go. Plus, it got them off the hook in driving us all over God's creation. Most importantly, we bought them ourselves, with our own money. for a fifteen year-old, that is saying something.
After we got our drivers licenses, the bikes to a back seat, but I still held on to it like it were my child. Everywhere I lived, it was there. Then, on Thanksgiving Day in 1997, I came home from eating dinner with my girlfriend's family, and noticed my basement door opened. My storage shed was ajar, and I got a horrible feeling. I gingerly walked over to see and all my fears were solidified - my bike, my pride and joy, was gone.

I have my suspicions who took this bike, and to this day, if I ever get the chance to perform a beat-down of massive proportions on this certain individual, I will not hesitate to do so. If you are reading this, and you know who you are, karma will catch up with you someday, hopefully in the form of my fist knocking several teeth out. I'm sure all your drugs you have taken in the past have caused extreme softening of your gums, so it really shouldn't take much effort.

Hopefully, none of you have ever had anything stolen, and although it might be a little unhealthy in me still being aggravated by it, it is hard to overcome. Whenever I see someone riding a nice road bibycle, I just can't help but remember all those fun, good teenage memories that my bike gave me; the bike that I worked so damn hard for, and some idiot selfishly took away.

On Thanksgiving, remember.

Partying like a rock star...an invalid, aging one that is..

2006-07-12T09:49:00.000-04:00

I better, since I have one! Even though this photo hasn't a damn thing to do with anything, I liked it so I took a photo of it while perusing through Target with Jenny.

The title of the post pretty much sums up the weekend for me. After the Friday interview (which lasted 5-7 minutes and went very well), I drove around my old Louisville stomping ground and ogled at the honeys I saw. I ate dinner, then went home. Saturday, I drove back to the Ville, went to the book signing, which also went well, and then on to a favorite Irish pub of mine in a cool part of town. Sunday consisted of hanging out with friends at their new house in the boonies. We had Korean food and hung out with our/their dogs. We know how to do it up right, don't we? I partied so hard I almost forgot to take my Gerotol.

All in all, it was a good weekend. I have been a little under the weather, and that, aside that I have been busy both at work as well as preparing for a lecture tomorrow evening (I have to teach MRI physics to a group of Radiation Dosimetry students), I have been unable to post. But never fear! I will be back tomorrow or Friday wil loads of useless nuggets a la Barry Style.

Since I have a horrible stomach ache, give me some love. And that means you, too, anita!

Weekly Liner Notes

2006-07-05T15:35:00.001-04:00

The guy on the left is none other than Terry Meiners, host of the Terry Meiners Show on 84-WHAS am. He will be the one interviewing me around 4pm EST this Friday (July 7, 2006). The guy on the right is Rick Pitino, coach of the Louisville Cardinals (for you, Trav, ole buddy). He normally doesn't wear gray, velour leisure suits, but since he heard of my being interviewed, he thought it would be best to dress up a little for the photo. Please listen if you can. Hopefully, I won't slur my words or sound like a complete jackass, or talk about anything inappropriate such as bowel movements, farting, or incontinence. Well, maybe farting, because farting is funny. Also, the book signing is Saturday, June 8, 2006 at Barnes and Noble in Louisville, KY. I will have photos and stories next week.

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Now, onto my rant. Advertising and commercials are so annoying, aren't they? Nowadays that most times I just mute the tv or skip over the page if it has an ad on it. One I saw this weekend is pretty bad - almost as bad as all those ridiculous herpes medication commercials, you know, the ones where everybody is good-looking and annoyed because their previous herpes medication forces them to swallow a pill twice a day. I'll never forget the one lady who said, "Take pills two times a day? I have a life." You are too busy to take 2 measly pills a day? You mean to tell me you cannot take, what, like 15 seconds out of your busy day sexing up the community, spreading your herpes willy nilly, to take your medication? C'mon.
The newest one is for Camel Wides. Camel cigarettes now have created the super cigarette. They should cater to the consumers who are looking for more tar and nicotine than most regular-sized smokes. They use the slogan, "Big. Fat. Delicious.", but if they were smart, they should have come up with slogans like, "More carcinogens per pack than in most regular-sized cartons!" Or, "Try new Camel Wides - perfectly sized for your trach hole!" Finally, "Eliminate nicotine stained fingertips with new Camel Wides...Now you can have your entire hand stained!"
Now, maybe it's just me, but they should get rid of all those plastic, phoney-baloney actors for their ads and commercials. Screw the ruggedly handsome Marlboro Man and hot go-getters with nary an unsightly blemish. From now on, I'd like to see real people on commericals like these. Real people with mammoth, purulent fever blisters the size of dinner plates, and gnarly, jagged, brown, stained teeth. Oh, and phlegm, lots of phlegm.
Now, that'd sell.

You ain't on Baywatch anymore

2006-06-29T13:35:00.000-04:00

Since I don't have a specific topic to ramble on about ad nauseum, I figured I'd discuss a whole slew of 'em. That way, if you get bored with one topic, you can avoid it and move on to the next.

Newest exciting news about my book: I have a radio interview next Friday, June 7th, at approximately 4pm. The station is WHAS-84 am, a massive radio station out of Louisville, KY. I will be on the Terry Meiners Show, a popular and funny broadcaster. We will discuss my book and upcoming book signing in Louisville on July 8th. He must have been drunk while agreeing to this, but like the selfish, attention whore I am, show will go on. I will post another link very shortly up on the UPCOMING APPEARANCES section of my site. NOTE: WHAS-84 has live streaming, so you all can listen to your favorite author (me) on the Internet at www.whas.com. Just click the area on the top right that says, "CLICK TO LISTEN LIVE".

New cool band: Tea Leaf Green. They are a bunch of San Francisco hippies who can can jam. They fall into the Phish type of category. If you like Phish, or other jam bands, you will like these guys. I am already putting peanut butter on my hair and bathing in patchouli water in nervous anticipation of their next tour date. Check them out, and if you don't like them, don't tell me, cause I like them, and if you don't you must have something wrong with you. I have given you all plenty of ideas to be more like me and if you have ignored or missed them don't complain to me.

Worst tv show on tv: I realize that title is a bit redundant, since tv shows can only be on tv, but I didn't feel like backspacing and then retyping. I am a hunt-and-peck typer anyway, so any regressive motions can cause serious delays. Plus, I am on lunch now and need all the time I can get. Anywho, worst tv show on tv: America's Got Talent. Hosted my Regin Philbin, the judges panel, which consists of David Hasselhoff, Brandy, and some snarly English wanker, have buttons with big X's on them to eliminate the contestant as soon as they feel the need to. It is muy horrible. Last night, there was some 6'8" Russian homosexual named Leinid the Magnificent all dressed up in a butterfly costume. His "talent", aside from being as gay as anyone I have ever seen in my life, was balancing swords while doing the splits. Now, in Russia, where they fight for bread crumbs and shoot people a lot, this might be considered a talent. But in Brooklyn, he is just a 6'8" weirdo balancing swords while doing the splits. Personally, he should get into magic, since he obviously has made his testicles as well as any form of self-esteem disappear. It's pretty sad when David Hasselhoff is the most talented person in a group of 2,500 people.

Mosty dramatic, unrealistic reality show: Real World Key West. Counting the nasty gay guy, they have 4 males on there and I think 3 females. All of them are idiots, especially the crazy girl who picks her scabs all day and talks like a four-year old. Once you have the ability to form complete sentences, you should refrain from BABY TALK - especially when you are on a tv show. When she is not crying on the phone with her abusive boyfriend, drinking excessively, screaming at her roommates, or being an overall anorexic, pain in the arse, she seems pretty normal. The gay guy is such a b-tch. He is nasty, vindictive, mean, and lots of other stuff. But at least he knows it, and he doesn't have any scabs to pick at - at least no visible ones.
There is no way in hell 7 strangers like this band o'losers would ever pick each other to live together.
I was sorely disappointed to see them all come out of Hurricane Wilma with no head trauma, because I feel something like that might really improve their personalities as well as overall demeanor.

Worst sporting team in the world: USA men's soccer. We got beat by the Czech Republic AND Ghana in the same tournament. Do I need to go any further?

OK, enough negativity. Talk amongst yourselves from here on out.

Hilton Head Island.....in pictures

2006-06-25T19:35:00.000-04:00

Me and the crew. See the pain on my face? I'm smiling, but there's pain.
It's either because of 2006 Estrogen Fest,
or maybe I was just sitting on a stick.

2006-06-25T19:34:00.000-04:00

Me doing a 12 ounce curl while riding my bicycle. Notice my pretty little basket. I was hoping for a white wicker one, but they were all out...

2006-06-25T19:32:00.000-04:00

One of the many beautiful golf courses on HHI.

2006-06-25T19:30:00.000-04:00

River Street in Savannah.

2006-06-25T19:29:00.001-04:00

Church in Savannah

2006-06-25T19:29:00.000-04:00

Mercer House in Savannah. The house made famous from "Midnight in the Garden of good and Evil".

2006-06-25T19:27:00.000-04:00

Me and my best gal in Savannah, Georgia. I look constipated.

2006-06-25T19:24:00.000-04:00

A view from our fishing boat, off Hilton Head Island.