The wife knocked the Xmas gift exchange out of the park (again) by procuring me an official Tyler Durden leather jacket and This Is Spinal Tap Collectors Edition on DVD ("The question is how much more black could it be? And the answer is none. None more black.") I got her jewelry and perfume. I am the best husband in the world. Aside from skidding our truck into a ditch and having my brother-in-law tow us out with his penile enhancing mega-vehicle and than having said skidded truck's battery die on my parent's driveway, our baby Jesus day went off without a hitch. As of post time I am sitting at PDX minutes from procuring a rental car and driving down to Eugene to spend the week with my wife's family. We also plan to renew our love affair at the Heceta Head Lighthouse as the romance is dead in our marriage. Happy holidays, loyal readers of the MB. I hate all seven of you.

Labels: travels, wife, xmas

Me: The wife asked me yesterday, "If a comet were to hit the earth tomorrow and end all life as we knew it what would I do with my last day on earth?"
DJ: What did she say?
Me: "I would have a big dinner with all our family and friends."
DJ: What did you say?
Me: "I would pick up a whore and kill her. Then I would come to that dinner."
DJ: I can almost hear her squeal "Matty!"
Me: She did. I am totally and completely serious, though.
DJ: I know.
Me: I would not even have to hide the body.
DJ: Take the body to dinner with you and prop it up at the table.
Me: Even better. "Who is that, Matty?"
DJ: "Dead whore. Pass the butter?"
Me: As in, asking the dead whore to pass me the butter? Because that would rule. "Dead whore, can you please lead us in grace?"
DJ: Then just sit there in silence for a moment while everyone stares at you all freaked out. Then look up and say, "Amen."
Me: I am glad you are my friend.

Labels: dj, im convos, whores, wife

Is 32 old? Hardly. But to the whippersnappers I work with who are fresh out of college, I am a year or two away from being put in a home. I find myself having to explain the pop culture references that dot my vernacular in great detail and ramble on about the days before "the MySpace" and "the texting." Yesterday my web designer (who is well-rounded musically) nearly killed me by asking, "Who is NWA?" This morning, our project manager came strolling in with a new haircut and sporting a Tam O'Shanter so I quipped, "Look at you all on the Mary Tyler Moore tip. Are you going to throw your hat up in the air and twirl around for us?" I had to find The Mary Tyler Moore opening credits on YouTube just to illustrate how clever I was. I am sleepy. It is either time for bed or the early bird at the Sizzler.

Labels: age, tomfoolery

Me: Interesting.
Jake: Meh. She does not stun me. Who cares if she can play some golf?
Me: I guess it is nice to know that she is not just a useless hot bitch. She can hit the shit out of a golf ball, too.
Jake: Give me Heidi Klum playing with her tits any day.
Me: Well, duh. Her tits are fantastic.
Jake: "Great knockers!"
Me: The Seal thing baffles me. I bet she is a size queen. It is the only explanation.
Jake: Hmmm. Never thought of that.
Me: Him and Edward James Olmos could be brothers with all that shit on their faces.
Jake: Ha! Seal had lupus. Cut the guy a break. He is just trying to get by.
Me: I do not call banging Heidi Klum "Getting By." I call that "Out Punting Your Coverage." "Getting By" is laying wood to someone like Britney Spears.
Jake: That is not "Getting By" that is "Giving Up."
Me: Nice.

Labels: boobs, im convos, jake

My Dad is a difficult man to buy presents for. When prodding him for gift ideas he usually mumbles, "I could use some golf balls" and than quickly changes the subject. Last year my Mom suggested we get him some new basketball gear for Christmas as Dad still rocks the Larry Bird Scrotum Fliers on the court. He kept the Dri-Fit shirts we bought and took back the baggy shorts. I am happy to report he is now tucking his Dri-Fit shirts into his High Thighs. I fired off on email to Mom this morning asking her what the old man could use and she replied with this gem:

The Greatest Hits of Air Supply and a small AM/FM radio for his office.

My Dad is a cyborg from the future sent back through time with only one mission: to keep the 1980s alive.

Labels: family, xmas

• The New York Jet's D Concourse becomes Mardi Gras at halftime. I am actually surprised this does not happen during the entire game being as New Jersey tunnel trash lifting up their shirts seems far more interesting than watching Kellen Clemens play quarterback. It is sad when the best thing that happened to your professional sports franchise in the past decade was this.
• Vintage photography of a 60s era sex party (NSFW).
• Obesity trends in the USA from 1985-2006. Good to see Colorado representing the low end of the scale along with Massachusetts and Connecticut. Do us all a favor West Virginia and Mississippi; put down the cupcakes and go for a bike ride or something.

Labels: link goodness, sex, sports, tomfoolery