Yeah, I know, I have neglected my blog yet again. But being election season, I think it is important to let my friends and family know where I stand on things, for a number of reasons. First, because I truly believe that our country is heading in the wrong direction. Second, because I think there is a candidate who, while I don’t agree with everything he says, will get our country on the right path in key areas like energy policy, health care, and the economy. Third, I think that the other party is the author of our current situation. I do not think that this country knows who John McCain really is, and I think that if Obama were willing to dive into the gutter like McCain has, that America would be so appalled that they would never cast a vote for Senator McCain.

I was reading a blog the other day that spelled things out. Unfortunately, I could not encourage many of my friends and family to read it because it used rampant language that would not be appreciated; but the message needs to be heard, and so I have obtained a clean version and will post it here:

Forget John McCain

My friends, I have the experience, I have a plan, I have a big stick, and I walk softly with Ronald Reagan. And Roosevelt and Lincoln are here, too, and a lot of other qualified Americans, who are good Americans, and who know how to fix the problems in America that America has. And might I just mention that I know how to reach across the aisle and say, with full confidence: Forget John McCain.

Let me say that again. Forget John McCain.

I know, I know, all the big pundits are piling on now, talking about how he’s changed and this isn’t the guy they remember from back before he sold his soul to run for President. Here’s the problem: McCain has been a complete jerk his entire career. Starting the very first night he was elected to the Senate, when he screamed at one of his volunteers because the podium he was supposed to speak at was too tall. Pure class, right there. And if that’s how he treats people who give up their weekends to work for him without pay, imagine how he’s gonna treat the rest of us.

You know what we need for our next President? An unstable jerk. That is a brilliant idea. How about we pick some slob whose idea of etiquette is shoving a ninety-two-year-old on the Senate floor. What could go wrong with a guy like that? I can see the commercials now: John W. McCain, an Unstable Man for Unstable Times.

Or how about we get a guy who’s so unable to control his temper that on diplomatic missions he tries to wrestle the foreigners he’s supposed to be meeting with. I’m starting to think that the only reason he doesn’t want to meet with Ahmadinejad is that he’s not sure if he can take him in a fair fight.

[We'll pause here in case the Senator himself is reading along. Gotta give him time to trip – repeatedly – over the name of a foreign leader who comes up, oh, every ten minutes in his own speeches. Tell you what, if we're going to spend an hour and a half watching you pace back and forth like Gary Busey on a meth bender, do you think you could spend five minutes of your debate prep memorizing the name of your nemesis? We've got things to do over here. We can't spend all night watching you tamp down your Tourette's.]

Ok, all caught up Senator? Good, now where were we? Oh yeah, a fair fight.

Like this guy would ever fight fair. Can you say “Obama pals around with terrorists“? Fine, you wanna be that way? How about we start spreading a rumor that you’re “proud” of your friend who broadcast instructions on how to kill cops? Or we could imply that your website has an endorsement from a guy who sold fifty million dollars worth of missiles to the evildoers in Iran (again with Iran, have you figured out how to pronounce that guy’s name yet? No? Good show, Mr. Foreign-Policy-is-My-Strength) and then turned around and gave that money to a group that raped and killed hundreds of men, women and children. What’s that? They were freedom fighters? Uh, no. If your friends are going to go around murdering nuns, we’re going to go ahead and call them terrorists. They can be Freedom Terrorists if you want. And what the heck, let’s go ahead and say that you made a personal donation to those terrorists while they were on their killing spree.

Pretty mean, right? Also, pretty specific, because that is what we call facts out here on Main Street or Average Avenue or Salt of the Earth Speedway or whatever neighborhood you’re pretending you’ve been anywhere near since you married into more money than Bill Gates had before Fannie and Freddie foreclosed on paradise.

Money, by the way, made on illegal liquor sales, and not during prohibition, when it was cool like that. How do you get out of that kind of trouble? If you’re Cindy’s daddy, you lawyer-up with future Supreme Court Chief Justice William Rehnquist and he gets you off. Does it worry anyone else that every right-wing debacle in the last fifty years involves the same twelve men? Need another example? Remember the guys who put out a push-poll claiming McCain had an illegitimate black child back in 2000? The same guys McCain said had a "special place in hell"? Hell, apparently, is the McCain campaign, cause he actually hired them.

Which I guess isn’t that surprising, since McCain has changed positions more times than Jenna Jameson in a double feature. But not on important issues. Just stuff like privatizing Social Security, the Bush tax cuts, coastal drilling, ethanol, gay adoption, affirmative action, the estate tax, torture and negotiating with Cuba, Hamas, and Syria. But at least he stood firm in opposing the lobbying reform, campaign finance and immigration legislation written by… Senator John McCain (R-Hanoi).

This guy’s not a maverick, he’s a weathervane!

Oh, but there are “advantages to experience and knowledge and judgement”? I know you don’t know how to use a Google, but those of us who do have a pretty easy time finding some major judgement screw-ups in your past, Mr. Experience Man.

Let’s just put it this way: if I was a gotcha journalist, I think by now I’d have stuck a mic in McCain’s face and asked what he was thinking when he said, just a few weeks after Al Qaeda held their coming out party by bombing two US Embassies in 1998, “You could say, look, is this guy, Laden, really the bad guy that’s depicted?“. Yes, Bin Freaking Laden. Post terrorist attack: ‘Is he really that bad?‘

Go ahead, you know you want to go back and read that again. Take your time, I’ll wait. All done? Now, tell me, where were the questions about that, Brokaw? Way to hold his feet to the warm, toasty fire.

But at least he was right about that surge thing. I mean, he and Bush got almost everything else wrong, but they backed the right horse this one time. Except (and if you’ve been getting your war news from any channel that spends more on graphics than foreign correspondents, you might want to hang on to something here) the surge isn’t the thing that’s turned down the American death toll in Iraq to "only mildly horrific."

I know! I was surprised too, until I took ten seconds to look it up for myself. Bush misleads the media and they totally fall for it, and then they feed it to the public who buys it hook, line and sinker. Who’da thunk that’d work? Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me, fool me twenty seven times and apparently we’re plum out of shame and we’ve moved on to… hey, was that a Friends re-run you just clicked past, dude? Go back! This is the one where a group of mid-twenties New Yorkers live in apartments the size of small aircraft carriers and nobody says a word about it through the entire show. It’s hilarious.

Hmmm? Oh yeah, Iraq. Nothing else has been going on there that could have made those insurgents stop shooting at our soldiers, right? Well, nothing besides the fact that we started paying them not to shoot at us. From where I’m sitting this is a major breakthrough in military strategy. Instead of getting shot at now, we’ve got ourselves on a ceasefire payment plan. And then, if we ever cancel our subscription, they’ll have twice as many guns. There’s no way that plan could backfire. Unless we run out of money, I guess.

Oh.

Crap.

Well, anyway, at least things are getting better, right? I mean, you said you walked around Baghdad "with no body armor on," so those Iraqis must be as safe as a tofu burger at a Palin rally. Yeah, except unlike the average Iraqi, you had a hundred soldiers and five helicopters guarding you. Oh yeah, and body armor. Exactly how out of touch do you have to be not to notice that you’re wearing Kevlar?

But at least we don’t hear much about that ugly ethnic cleansing stuff anymore. We must have had something to do with putting a stop to that. Right — we let them finish. All cleansed! Nothing succeeds like success, huh?

And since the surge is working so well, let’s export it over to Afghanistan. That country’s all Arab-y, it’ll probably work there too, right? Exactly which class at Annapolis was it where they taught you that a tactic that works in urban warfare is a good one to try out in the mountains? It’s practically the same terrain, just flipped forty five degrees and with goats instead of… well, instead of everything.

Wait, you don’t think that’s why the commander of US forces in Afghanistan himself says this isn’t the right plan, do you? I know all you Republicans like to say that soldiers make good Presidents, but do you think maybe we could amend that to soldiers that don’t completely stink at being soldiers? Seriously, after crashing three airplanes, who gave this guy his wings back so he could fly off on real combat missions? Oh right, dear old dad. What’s it like having a father who’s so powerful you can screw up over and over and never pay the price?

Wait a minute, that sounds so familiar…

Anyway, did you hear that McCain was a war hero, too? Yes indeedy, he sure is shy, but if you’re willing to ask him a question about any other topic, he’ll be happy to tell you all about it. I guess that’s why you get more donations from soldiers than That One, right? No? Don’t worry dude, the troops in the field always send more money to the guy they don’t want to be their next Commander in Chief. It’s strategic. I think they call it a “Surge,” or something.

But you’d be winning right now if Obama would have just done eighty seven town hall debates with you? Yeah, cause you really connected during the one you got. You know what you should do? You should get your wife’s company to sponsor some more debates! They could put up the cash, and give out free beer and auction off prizes and stuff, and maybe you could get other rich people to pitch in if you, like, promise to make their dad King of the Economy and mention his name over and over during the debate.

Oops! You already did that, didn’t you? How’d that work out for ya?

How sad is it that you learned, just now, from me, that the money funding McCain’s housing habit comes from the same place as the money that got the press sloshed at the debates. It’s sad, dude. It’s as sad as it would be if the only guy asking McCain tough questions in this election was a late night talk show host. Oops. Uhhh. Oops.)

You’d think with Budweiser sponsoring the real debates you wouldn’t need to set up your own homestyle versions where your – how do we put this – touched supporters can embarrass you by saying out loud what your ads only imply. (And maybe all the white folks could be a little less shocked! shocked! that there’s still racism in America? It’s embarrassing. Pretend like you were paying attention for the last two hundred years, could ya?)

Oh, and while we’re talking about your rebel rallies, you might want to get your supporters to ease back on questioning your opponent’s religious beliefs. Otherwise we’re going to have to bring up that thing where you say you’re a Baptist, but you’ve never been… wait for it... baptized. For shizzle.<

And despite the fact that they never ask you about any of this, you still feel the need to complain that the media elite aren’t treating your campaign with enough deference? What kind of person runs away from a sit down with Larry King? What are you, afraid he might ask you one of those probing questions, like “We’re back with the maverick John McCain. What do you make of this new Britney video, Senator?”

Awww, did the mean media people hurt your feewings, Johnny-wonny? Did they make fun of your stwaight tok expwess? Do you need mommy to kiss it and make it all better? Maybe she can buy you a wittle hospital to go with your eight houses, you crybaby.

And now, after the last two “elections,” we have to listen to you cry about voter fraud. Ok, first off, it’s not voter fraud, it’s some guys trying to make a buck by copying a few names out of the phone book. Well, ok, to be fair there is some organized voter registration fraud going on. I’ll give you that. Wait, remind me who got arrested for that, again? Oh yeah, Republicans. It takes some serious guts to point fingers while you’re in handcuffs.

Look, we don’t really have time to listen to you complain anymore, ok? We’re slow, but after two shady elections we’ve figured out that in order to win this thing we have to get more votes than you Republicans can steal. What’s that? You want to introduce us to McCain version 9.0? Later, dude, we have to go vote for our country first.

I am still on the caffiene wagon (15 days!) and I did work out every day. Starting weight: 212, ending weight, 210, -2. Not quite the goal of -4, but I’ll take it. Last time I lost weight it didn’t start to really kick in until after the third week, so I just have to keep up the workouts.

I went to the ENT this week about my constantly infected tonsils. Turns out I have chronic tonsilitis, which causes the tonsil stones, the itchy ears, and exaserbates my allergies and results in my chronic sinusitis whenever I get sick. Soooo I have to get my tonsils out, which is apparently very painful for adults. Probably won’t happen until September, but the sooner the better. I want this over with.

Next week will be busy. I have to go to Charlotte, NC for a deposition, and we’re going to my mom’s house for the Fourth of July holiday. I’m gonna have to figure out a way to exercise every day. I’ll be okay as long as the hotel has an exercise room.

I listened to a lot of Ben Folds this week. He’s such an underrated artist – most people know “Brick” and that’s about it. I hope he puts something new out soon.

I was introduced to a great new website this week. The Fail Blog, link is on the blogroll. Oh, man, pure hilarity.

Some Random notes from my life over the past week:

I made a goal to lose four pounds a week. Starting weight: 215 Ending weight: 212 Total Loss: -3

Funny story of the week:
My son Ian (4 years old) walks out of the bathroom wearing only underwear.
Ian: Dad, I peed on the floor.
Me: That’s ok, just use some toilet paper and wipe it up.
Ian: I can’t.
Me: Why not?
Ian: It’s too much.
I walk in the bathroom to see a lake of pee on the floor, then walk out of the bathroom.
Me: It’s too much.
My wife: Ian, why did you pee on the floor?
Ian: (pointing to the left) My penis went that way.

Today is my seventh day off caffiene. No more headaches. I wish restaurants served other diet drinks besides diet coke/pepsi. On Wednesday, I had to go to Las Vegas Business Expo and work the Vegas Young Professionals booth. One of our sponsors was Red Bull, so here I am, just as the headaches are subsiding, sitting in between two barrels full of Red Bull. I figure if I can withstand that temptation, I’ll be okay.

Tiger Woods U.S. Open win was spectacular. Historic. Courageous. I was in awe, seriously. That is why I love sports. He had every reason to pack it in, and someone with less will to win would have, without any shame. But he didn’t, and he won against the underdog playing out of his mind. Congrats to Rocco Mediate too. He has no reason to hang his head at all. He played stroke for stroke with the best golfer ever for 90 holes. Just a great all around event.

Speaking of sports, congrats to Kevin Garnett and the Celtics. I am not a Celtics fan, but I can appreciate their accomplishment. I hope this years finals puts to rest forever the talk of Kobe Bryant being as good as Michael Jordan. Because Jordan would not have let that happen. The Celtics are a lot like the late-90s Utah Jazz — three great players, lots of decent role players, tough defense, etc. The thing that made Jordan so great was not his basketball skills, but his absolute will to win (very much like Tiger in the U.S. Open). Kobe’s performance in Game 6 was more John Starks than Michael Jordan. See today’s top five in “The Top Five of Everything” (link to the left) to see the top five reasons Jordan will always be better than Kobe.

This week I have really enjoyed the music of Them Terribles!, an alt-rock band out of SoCal. Very good stuff.

I got a chance to go to Orange County for work last week. Not a fan. I’m sure there are parts of the OC that don’t look like every other part of the OC, but so far they have eluded me. It’s like a big huge 100 square mile strip mall, filled in by pink stucco/red tile roof houses and “hidden” gated communities. And what’s the deal with all the Donut shops and Subway restaurants? There’s one or the other on every corner.

I also got to go down to L.A. for the grand sumo tour. Very cool. Sumo gets the rap of just being fat guys in diapers running into each other. No way. These guys are athletes. They can do the splits and touch their foreheads to the floor. The action is spectacular, and the pageantry makes it a blast to see. To get a glimpse of what we saw, go here.

Ok, I missed an entire year of blogging. See the top five of everything (link, left) for reasons why.

So a quick recap of the happenings from May 2007-May 2008:

Professionally:

The economy continued to tank. Especially real estate. My real estate clients stopped paying. The firm was heading downhill. My partner decided it was time to end the firm. I joined Kummer Kaempfer Bonner Renshaw & Ferrario, one of the top law firms in Las Vegas. I have enjoyed it so far, the people are very cool and the lawyers are very good.

I won my first trial sitting first chair. (It was my second trial as lead attorney, I lost the first one.) It was a bench trial, and our position was very good. It was very exhilarating to win.

Personally:

We were planning a vacation for July to upstate New York. Unfortunately, we did not go. Fortunately, it was because we were selected to be the adoptive parents of a beautiful baby girl. She was born July 17, 2007 and arrived in our home July 20, 2007. She is absolutely gorgeous.

I turned 35, which caused a bit of reflection and even a little sadness. I am still probably closer to birth than death, but I am definitely hitting middle age. (“You’re lookin’ at my gut, aren’t ya? I’m workin’ on it!”)

Anyway, I’ve set a goal to open the hotel again, and write very regularly, sharing some funny stuff and random thoughts.

My brother’s wife gave birth to their first son yesterday. Congratulations, George and Theresa. All the best.

I have, likely subconsciously, turned this into gross-out week here at the Empty Arms Hotel. Keeping with that theme, I remembered a paper I had a copy of back in the old days prior to e-mails. The name of the document was “The Poopie List.” I did a search for it, and quickly located an expanded version on the internet. Gross, yes, but hilarious too.

The Poopie List

The Perfect Poopie – Every once in a while, each of us experiences a perfect Poopie, it’s rare, but a thing of beauty in all respects. You sit down expecting the worst, but what you get is a smooth sliding, fartless masterpiece that breaks the water with the splashless grace of an expert diver. But that’s not the end of it. You use some toilet tissue only to find that it was totally unnecessary. It makes you feel that all is right with the world and you are in perfect harmony with it.

The Beer Poopie – Talk about nasty dumps. Depending on the dumper’s tolerance, the beer dump is the end result of too many beers. it could have been 2 or 22, it doesn’t matter. What you get is a sinister, lengthy, noisy dump accompanied by a malevolent fog that could close a bathroom for days.

The Chili Poopie – Hot when it goes in, and rocket fuel when it leaves. The chili Poopie stays with you all day, making your tush feel like a heat shield.

The Cable Poopie – Long, curly and perfectly formed like 2 feet of E13 telephone CO-axial cable. It loops lazily around the bowl, like a friendly serpent. You wonder admiringly, “DID I DO THAT? Where did it come from?” you leave the bathroom pleased with yourself.

The Latrine Poopie – In case you didn’t know, a latrine is a hole in the ground with a tent around it where soldiers, boy scouts and flies go to dump. Tip: Don’t ever, ever look in the hole.

The Mona Lisa Poopie – This is the masterpiece of Poopies. It’s as perfectly formed as it can be. Delicate and slender with intricacies that would make da Vinci weep. And just think, you made it yourself. You may even want to break out the Polaroid, but maybe that’s going a bit too far.

The Empty Roll Poopie – You’re done…you reach for the toilet paper only to discover that empty cardboard cylinder. A mild panic begins coldly in your throat. You could use the curtains…no, someone would say “Where are the curtains?” Then what would you say? The rug?…too cumbersome. Then you must come to the same conclusion that every “empty roll dumper” must face…Pull up your slacks, tighten your tush and wriggle yourself to the nearest full roll.

The Splash Back Poopie – You send the Poopie on its way, it drops like a depth charge into the bowl creating a column of cold bowl water that washes your bottom with a startlingly unpleasant shock. Now you’re wet and embarrassed.
Tip: Blot instead of wiping.

The Aborted Poopie – You are in mid-dump when the phone rings. What do you do? ABORT! Pinch it off, go for the phone, and save the rest for later. It isn’t pretty, but you’ve gotta do what you gotta do

The Caesarian Poopie – Pain, that’s what this Poopie and childbirth have in common. Its simply a case of too much dump trying to go through too small a hole, and there’s no obstetrician to help.

The Alfresco Poopie – Everyone has had to go outdoors from time to time. This can be a rather pleasant experience really. The open air, the nature, and a good bush all contribute to the peaceful ambiance that our primitive forefathers must have enjoyed. What can screw up this harmonious interlude is a troop of brownies or a patch of poison ivy.

The Childbirth Poopie – This is a Poopie that is simply too big to go through the aperture provided by nature for the purpose. You sit there, thinking over your dilemma. First it hurts, and it isn’t going to get any better. You wonder if you’ll ever see your loved ones again. You imagine the newspaper headlines screaming “Man dies trying to hatch monster loaf”. You realize you’ll have to resolve the crisis before you can leave the bathroom. Basically there are only three things you can do:

1. Scream
2. Call an Obstetrician
3. Hope like hell have enough Vaseline to get you through it.

The Tijuana Trot Poopie – The phrase “Sh*t Happens” really applies here in a big way. When the ice in your tainted margarita makes contact with your lower intestinal tract, the fun begins. For the next 72 hours you’d be better off if you carried your own portable toilet with you because you will spend most of that time on the pot and the rest of the time in a fetal position. Now you realize why Mexico never had a navy.

The Machine Gun Poopie – You’re just sitting there in a state of sublime peace when all of a sudden you emit a group of noisy gassy bursts that break the silence like machine gun fire. The guy in the next stall hits the floor like a combat veteran cradling his umbrella like an M16…damn commies.

The Sound Effect Poopie – You feel a noisy one coming on. Relatives, friends or work mates are within earshot, so you must employ some clever techniques to cover the disgusting sounds you are about to emit. Timing is obviously very important here. At the precise moment of release, try the following sound effects:

1. Flush the toilet
2. Sing the first two stanzas of your national anthem
3. Drop a handful of quarters on the floor

The Security Poopie – You have enough on your mind when you’re in the bathroom without worrying about a lockless door and someone bursting in to find you in mid-dump mode. So how can you prevent this embarrassing spectacle from taking place? One way is to strategically place your foot against the door. If you can’t reach to do this…hum loudly

The Cling-On Poopie – For the most part you’ve completed your Poopie, but there’s one little morsel that refuses to drop off. You’re getting impatient. Someone else wants to use your stall. So, you grip the seat with both hands and wriggle, twist and pump but that last little stubborn piece just hangs there, suspended, clinging like a canned peach between you and the bowl water. Maybe the person pounding impatiently on the door has scissors

The Houdini Poopie – You go, then you stand up to flush, and the darn thing has disappeared. Where’d it go? Did it creep down the pipe? Did you dream the whole thing? Is it lurking out of sight? Should you wipe…maybe you should just to make sure you went. Should you flush? you’d better, because if you don’t, you know it will reappear and smile at the next person who comes in

The Flu Poopie – You feel so bad that you don’t know which end of you to put down first. You have roaring cramps, so you sit down. Then a wave of nausea rolls over you like a cold fog, so you stand up and cramps squeeze your intestines like a vice so you sit down again…up down up down. Don’t you wish Mom were close by?

The Porta-Pottie Poopie – Construction workers and outdoor concert goers will tell you about going in a portable toilet. My best description would be, “Its like taking a dump in an upright coffin”. Its claustrophobic and it smells bad…best advice…go in a paper cup.

The Proctologist Poopie – In the beginning, the lord created the earth, the sky and the firmament, but I hope he didn’t create this dump, because there is nothing biblical about it, you run out of gas. That’s right, you run out of propulsion. The dump is right there at the end of your barrel and refuses to go any further. You grunt, you squeeze, you wriggle but it just stays there like a lump of lead. You’ve only got two choices here. One is to squeeze the damn thing back up your intestine and wait until next time. The other is to pretend you’re a proctologist and go after it yourself. Not a pretty picture is it??

The Whole Roll Poopie – No matter how much you wipe, it doesn’t seem to be enough. You blow the whole roll and you have to flush 25 times too. The whole episode is consumer waste.

The Graffiti Poopie – You flush the Poopie and the swirling motion of the receding bowl water forces the dump to the porcelain sides, scraping a creative squiggle on its way down. You flush again but the curlicue hangs there…love it or leave it. Its your choice.

The Encore Poopie – Ahhhh, you’re done, so you wipe, put yourself together, wash your hands and are about to vacate the bathroom when you feel another dump coming. You have to return for a curtain call. The world’s record is seven encores.

The Born Again Poopie – This is a dump that’s going so badly, you say “Lord, if I live through this, I’ll take up religion” you always get through it, but seldom keep the promise you made in desperation, because a born again dump is like childbirth…you forget the pain quickly.

Ghost Poopie
The kind where you feel the Poopie come out, but there’s no poopie in the toilet.

Clean Poopie
The kind where you poopie it out, see it in the toilet, but there is nothing on the toilet paper.

Wet Poopie
The kind where you wipe your butt fifty times and it still feels unwiped, so you have to put some toilet paper between your butt and your underwear so you don’t runie them with a stain.

Second Wave Poopie
The kind that happens when you’re done poopie-ing and you’ve pulled your pants up to your knees, and you realize you have to poopie some more.

Turtle Poopie
The kind of poopie that pops out a little and goes back in a few times before it finallly comes out

Pop-a-Vein-in-your-Forehead-Poopie
The kind where you strain so much to get it out, you practically have a stroke.

Lincoln Log Poopie
The kind of Poopie that is so huge you’re afraid to flush without first breaking it into little pieces with the plunger.

Gas-sy Poopie
The kind where it’s so noisy, everyone within earshot is giggling!

Drinker Poopie
The kind of Poopie you have the morning after a long night of drinking. It’s most noticeable trait is the skid marks on the bottom of the toilet.

Corn Poopie
(Self explanatory)

The Big Mac Poopie
Poopie fraught with sesame seeds.

Gee-I-Wish-I-Could-Poop Poopie
The kind where you want to Poopie, but all you do is it on the toilet and fart a few times.

Spinal Tap Poopie
That’s the kind when it hurts so badly coming out, you swear it was leaving you sideways.

Wet Cheeks Poopie (The Power Dump)
The kind that comes out of your butt so fast, your butt cheeks get spashed with water.

Liquid Poopie
The kind where yellowish-brown liquid shoots you of your butt and spashes all over the toilet bowl.

Mexican Poopie
The kind that smells so bad your nose burns.

Upper Class Poopie
The kind of Poopie that doesn’t smell.

The Suprise Poopie
You are not even at the toilet, because you are sure you are about to fart, but, OOPS—a Poopie!

The Dangling Poopie
This Poopie refuses to drop into the toilet even though you know you are done poopie-ing. You just pray that a shake or two will cut it loose.

Fisherman’s Bobber Poopie
You are in a public restroom with two people waiting on your stall, you poopie and flush two times, but several golfball pieces are still floating above the water line.

Having been a poor white person before, I know and understand that there are ways to make easy (?) money in order to make rent when that minimum wage job just won’t stretch till next paycheck. Most of these include the sale of bodily fluids or participation in scientific experiments for new prescription medications. However, I have recently located a new source of income for these folks: zit popping. You heard it right. GET PAID TO POP YOUR ZITS. No, not even kidding. Want proof??

Make Money Popping Zits.

I imagine the scene at the trailer park oops I mean modular home community to go something like this:

Helen: Dammit, Cooter, we’re short on rent again. Why’d you have to buy the brand name cigarettes at the Wal Mart?
Cooter: It’s not a problem, Helen. I’m gonna have Cletus over to film me pop that thar pimple on Leon’s shoulder. If we can get the boil on my leg and that infection on your little toe, we’re in bidness!
Helen: That’s why I love you, baby. You’re so SMRT (sic)!!!

The woman that I love the most has certain aversions that make for a comically good time. One of them is toenail clippings. For some reason, they really gross her out. I don’t understand why. To help her get over it, I have constructed a special message just for her:

Sorry for yesterday’s lapse. I was busy buying a new car, the 2007 Toyota Camry Hybrid. Of the hybrid cars available, the Camry is definitely my favorite. I finally decided that if I am going to make energy policy my number one political issue (which it is, and I’m sure I will blog about that a lot as the presidential election progresses), then I ought to be willing to do something about it, by using a lot less gasoline and buying a very VERY practical car. On one hand it makes me feel old, but man I sure enjoyed the smooth quiet ride to work today!

I also have to comment on the weekend’s NFL draft. I was disappointed in the Redskins’ pick, not because LaRon Landry will not be a great player for many years (I think he will), but because the team did nothing to shore up it’s weaknesses on the defensive line or to provide depth on the offensive line, which I think were two main need areas. I had to laugh as Brady Quinn (pretty boy) fell to number 22 when I’m sure he thought he was going to be a top five pick. I just can’t see him being anything other than average, but I’ve been wrong on stuff like that before. It was cool to see my alma mater’s John Beck go early in the second round to the Dolphins. I know the Dol-fans were screaming about not drafting Quinn, but I’m telling you, Beck is better. This guy is tough, smart, accurate and has a strong arm. Miami will be happy with him as their starter in a few years.

I have to close out 80s week with the best thing to come out of the 80s. So much good music … I decided to arrange my 80s music post into the top five albums of each year of the decade. Then the top five page (see link, left) will contain my top five albums of the decade.

1980

1. Pink Floyd – The Wall
2. AC/DC – Back in Black
3. Queen – The Game
4. Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers – Damn the Torpedoes
5. Billy Joel – Glass Houses

1981

1. Journey – Escape
2. Rush – Moving Pictures
3. The Rolling Stones – Tattoo You
4. Go-Go’s – Beauty and The Beat
5. Styx – Paradise Theater

1982

1. Michael Jackson – Thriller
2. Prince – 1999
3. Violent Femmes – Violent Femmes
4. Duran Duran – Rio
5. Judas Priest – Screaming for Vengeance

1983

1. Van Halen – 1984
2. Def Leppard – Pyromania
3. The Police – Synchronicity
4. Talking Heads – Speaking In Tongues
5. Cyndi Lauper – She’s So Unusual

1984

1. Prince – Purple Rain
2. Metallica – Ride the Lightning
3. Madonna – Like a Virgin
4. Bruce Springsteen – Born in the U.S.A.
5. Wham! – Make it Big

1985

1. Tears for Fears – Songs From The Big Chair
2. LL Cool J – Radio
3. John Cougar Mellencamp – Scarecrow
4. Dire Straits – Brothers In Arms
5. Whitney Houston – Whitney Houston

1986

1. Paul Simon – Graceland
2. Run-D.M.C. – Raising Hell
3. Peter Gabriel – So
4. Van Halen – 5150
5. Metallica – Master of Puppets

1987

1. Guns ‘N’ Roses – Appetite For Destruction
2. U2 – The Joshua Tree
3. George Michael – Faith
4. INXS – Kick
5. Joe Satriani – Surfing With The Alien

1988

1. Public Enemy – It Takes A Nation of Millions To Hold Us Back
2. Metallica – …and Justice for All
3. N.W.A. – Straight Outta Compton
4. R.E.M. – Green
5. Enya – Watermark

1989

1. Beastie Boys – Paul’s Boutique
2. Nine Inch Nails – Pretty Hate Machine
3. Tom Petty – Full Moon Fever
4. De La Soul – 3 Feet High and Rising
5. Red Hot Chili Peppers – Mother’s Milk

Ok that concludes 80s Week at the Empty Arms. What a great decade, I’m glad I grew up in it!