Jihahads!

If I ever opened up a comedy club in the Middle East, that's what I would call it: Jihahads.

There's a car dealership in Columbus, Ohio after my own heart. Apparently they're advertising "Fatwa Friday" when they'll declare a "jihad on the US auto market."

I don't see why people are so upset about this. From what I remember, there have been much more insensitive advertising campaigns.

There was the "Your Mother Is a Cunt, So Buy That Cunt the Douche She Deserves This Christmas" Holiday advertising campaign by Summer's Eve. I don't even know why they would advertise douche as a Christmas gift, let alone one that a child would buy his or her mother. But, I don't know much about the advertising world.

Then there was the car company in the 1960s who was cashing in on the Civil Rights movement with this: "Tired of sitting in the back, darkies? With our Honda motorcycles, you'll always sit up front. Free fire hose-repellant umbrella with every purchase."

But, I think the worst advertising in recent history has to have taken place in the early 1940s. Though, I have to give them credit for creativity. There was a German bagel company which sold bagels like fortune cookies. Inside each one was a note you were supposed to save and read at the end of your meal. Once unrolled, it read, "These bagels were baked with loving care in the same General Electric oven as your grandfather. Our secret ingredient? Real Jew tears."

Finally! Proof I'm the Smartest Man Alive!

Just now on Jeopardy I was able to give the correct question when none of the contestants could.

The clue: Appropriately, this word comes from the Greek words meaning "sharp" & "dull."

How do you not know the answer to that if you have any knowledge of words? These are people that know names like Marc Chagall, Peepee the Sophisticated Turd Burglar and Alex Trebek, yet they don't know this?

If you don't know the correct question, you're never allowed to read this blog again.

For those of you who are defying my commands to leave, it's "What is an oxymoron?" I answered it without hesitating like somebody just asked me if I'd ever want to see Rosie O'Donnell's bacon-wrapped vagina (YES!).

By the way, have you tried Red Lobster's Rosie O'Donnell bacon-wrapped vagina? It's to dyke for. Get it? I'm a bigot.

Sexy Blasphemy!

This is the kind of stuff I think about before I fall asleep. As I was lying in bed last night, I couldn't get this idea out of my mind.

A man and a woman are about to have sex for the first time. The man decides to try to use his way with words to keep the woman in the mood.

"Hey, baby. Why don't you take off them panties?"

She does.

"Damn, girl. You have the pussy of an angel."

Yeah. So, the last words to go through my mind last night were, "Damn, girl. You have the pussy of an angel." Needless to say, I had a dream I was fucking Natalee Holloway.

K-Fed Goes Number Two All Over New Son!

Second verse, same as the first. Not quite taking a page out of George Foreman's naming book, but similarly, Kevin Federline and Britney Spears have given their new son the same initials as their previous son, Sean Preston Federline. Immediately after naming their new son Sutton Pierce Federline, K-Fed had this to say:

I gave 'em both da initials SPF because they gonna be needing all that protection from the lyrics I be spitting that are hot like fire.

He was so proud of coming up with that that nobody had the heart to tell him that his reasoning was faulty. One reporter did start to say something about how fire doesn't really give off ultra-violet rays, but Mr. Fed responded with this:

Ultra-violet? My lyrics is mad ultra-violet. I be talking about killing fools left and right with the gat strapped to my inner thigh, son!

I don't know why he carries his gun in the same spot as a hooker from the Old West, but I'm sure it's "like crazy intimidatin' and shit. Popozao!"I could say a million things about the above video, but, honestly, does anything need to be said?

Who's the Big Birthday Boy?

Apparently not me.

This past Thursday was my birthday. Normally on my birthday I don't post anything about it because I don't want to appear to be pandering for the obligatory, "Happy birthday, faggot!" posts. But, this was no normal birthday.

You, being not me and having normal friendships and relationships, would assume that, when you tell somebody that you hate something, they would refrain from subjecting you to said object of hate. However, since I am a terrible person, people feel that, on my birthday, I should have to bask in all that I hate and be made miserable.

I've mentioned before here about a couple of my biggest pet peeves. I hate when I see a girl driving a car that is over-the-top girly--especially when they have that stupid license plate frame that reads, "I'm the Princess, that's why," or "Daddy's Little Princess," or, as I wrote before, "DVDA Princess." Whatever. I just hate the whole princess thing and find it obnoxious, fake and trying too hard.

I also have moaned here about another of the things that bothers me to no end: animals dressed up in clothing. I just don't understand this phenomenon. Animals have been around for longer than humans and they've never needed a wedding dress, a trenchcoat with pocketwatch, or a flapper costume. Yet, once humans domesticate them, they feel the need to humiliate it and dress it up as a pirate. If you want to dress up as a pirate, that's fine (and awesome), but don't hot glue an eye patch on your dog and make it look like an idiot against its will so you can be entertained.

I give you this background because my coworkers felt it necessary to do this to my desk at work (click the picture to see it full size).Pink streamers, a pink boa, pictures of animals dressed in clothing taped on to everything.

A closer look.On my monitor, that's a picture of John Wayne Gacy with a long alliterative sentence. I mentioned to them that I hate alliteration at one point, too. I was kidding about that, but they ran with it.

The crowning achievement, so to speak, and I feel the quintessential item that best reflects what I hate about the whole Princess thing is this.They taped a crown that says "Birthday Princess" on the top of my monitor.

I get to work earlier than the people who decorated my desk, but I must project an air of rage on a daily basis because, being a good sport, I left all this stuff up. They, however, felt that there was a 75% chance that I would tear it all down as soon as I saw it.

So, all day I sat at my desk surrounded by this stuff. Also, there's nothing about the decoration that specifically says birthday in giant writing to somebody just casually walking by, it's just a whole lot of pink and streamers. I work with a lot of people and I don't know many of them, so there's a good chance that a lot of them thought that it was my coming out party.

Also, I sit in a fairly high traffic area and the work that I do for this large Internet search company (Why am I being vague? You can actually see the name of the company in one of the pictures) sometimes requires me to work with all sorts of porn. There's never a worse time to have a greasy dildo on your computer screen than when your desk is decorated like mine.

To give you an example of the kinds of things I have to deal with, in the picture of the Birthday Princess crown above, I noticed this after the fact, but it's Jesus karma that it happened to be there. I blurred out most of the screen to help keep my work confidential blah blah, but you can clearly see the phrase "granny sex toys."

Welcome to my world.