A nipple in time
If there's any single question that has completely and totally stumped the great thinkers throughout time...it is "Why do men have nipples?". This question can be placed up with the greats of all time...next to "Who came first?", "Why did the chicken cross the road?", "With what is a McNugget made?", or "Why do all men have two of the most unbelievably painful human body parts dangling between the two most active and largest limbs on their body?" But I think the question of why men have nipples is overshadowed by "Why do male monkeys have them?" or male cats? If two nips weirds us out, imagine having half a dozen! Chimps can't even peirce them for fun and fashion, they can't paint them to look like eyes and paint a smile on their belly and put on a giant top hat over their head and shoulders for a laugh. They just hang there, hairy and dark...like two chicken pox pustules that refuse to die. Maybe one of those brainiacal lab chimps would have already discovered a hidden, undiscovered use for the male nip if they hadn't been given a much higher priority of physical wonder...like a huge, humidifier size, slimey red ass that shits whenever it damn well feels like it. What makes a woman's bare chest obscene, when a man's bare chest is something to display to the world for all to see while performing everyday acts like mowing the lawn, swimming, or simply just going to church. Its obviously not the nipples of women that are obscene...seeing as identical skin formation on a man is always totally overlooked. It must be the breast meat itself, the mound of fat that rests under the nipple. Why then are some strippers forced to wear pasties to hide their nips when the real vulgarity that lies beneath bounces away in the face of every Joe can't-get-laid in the country? Women can wear a low cut shirt, revealing all their milky flesh to the public...but if even a speck of her nipple shows...she can be arrested. Technically...women should be wearing shirts that cover all of the breast but have two half dollar size holes for her nipples to poke through. Police should be arresting men like Fabio and Butterbean, who, while wearing V necks, display just as much unruly mam as some women. My next entry will tackle the ageless question "Why do men have a small vagina under their left asscheek?".....or is this not a shared experience?

Its the great pumpkin!
Let me just say this now........I WILL NEVER MARRY MY GIRLFRIEND! At least as long as there is a Clay Aiken download on this PC, and if she plans to bring any of that filth home in compact music disc form...I will forget she ever existed. Imposing American Idol on someone is just low, you just don't do that to a guy. Seriously, you put orangutang hair on Jack Skelington, give him the singing voice of Rick Ashley, the speaking voice of Margot Kidder, the self respect of a gutter rat, the bulge of.....Margot Kidder, the gayness of that balding cable show interior designer guy with the goatee...and you've got Clay Aiken. Evertime I see him I hear festive fiddle music and think of candy corn and haystacks...all because of that healthy Autumn gord that he balances on his shoulders. I keep thinking he's going to lift it up and send it flaming at the audience like the headless horseman. Or remember "Its the great pumpkin Charlie Brown" when the kids at the party use Charlie Brown's head as practice for their Jack o Lantern design? I swear I'll fight fire with marshmallow if she brings Clay's cd home....I'll buy Ruben's cd and make frickin' flyers to paste to our walls......a shower curtain....pillows.....bronze frickin' bust, I'm serious..I ain't playin!

Boycott in Effect
The American @sshole (glorified Star Search) competition boycott is in effect starting.................NOW! If I see that morbidly obese blob Ruben float around the stage like a big parade balloon again, or pumpkin headed, Rick Astley spawn Clay wink to the judges again...I will spit! My friendgirl fudges her huggies whenever Clay points to the camera, you would think that would be enough for me to boycott the show....but the hatred I carry for this milk-a-thon started boiling after episode 1. In the imortal words of the great Jim Bellushi in "The Principal"......."NO MORE!" I just would not be able to deal with a million pre teens drawing embarrassing portraits of me...how did the Beatles live with themselves from '64 -'66? Lennon at least had to say the Beatles were bigger than Jesus in order to get boycotted.....this circus of sideshow oddities is just out of control....it must be stopped for humanity's sake. And I hate it when people like Smokey Robinson or Robin Gibb get up ther and praise these goons for participating in the worlds biggest kareoke party ever! You know Smokey couldn't say what he really wanted to say, which was probably something like..."Maybe he's not pointing at the camera...maybe he's just trying to keep his balance with that gargantuan melon on his shoulders. What a gord! The elephant man would do a double take at this mistake of nature!" When i see a singer being judged by Randy on that show, it reminds me of the scene in "Return of the Jedi" when Jabba the hut sends the slave girl down the trap door. Add a trap door and a 3 story idiot eating monster to this show and I will ink up my own frickin' signs and scream my talker off from the 3rd row. And if the monster didn't pull a Mama Cass on Clay's collosal cranium...and if the monster had enough jaw power to crack that neanderthal nugget like a jawbreaker, he could blow a bubble with his brains. A bubble that expanded to room size until it pops and leaves entrails all over the audience. And as we see the emotionally scarred children frantically trying to wipe the matter that was once Clay from their "Princess" shirts, and as the screams begin to magnify.........we fade to commercial.