Can You Spare Some Change?

I was just wondering, when rapper 50 Cent was a kid did they call him 25 Cent? Also, when he gets old and gray will they call him Silver Dollar?

Why Not The Hamburglar?

Just yesterday in New Hampshire a Wendy's restaurant (I use the term "restaurant" loosely in relation to Wendy's) was robbed by two employees who were later apprehended. The name of one of the employees? Ronald McDonald.

Sexiest Man Alive?

This week People magazine announced their Sexiest Man Alive for 2005. It was not me. Again. I think it was Jude Law, but I'm not sure. It was some random movie star looking guy with about a two day stubble growing on his face. When I saw the title and it didn't have my picture beneath it I just walked by without giving it a second look. How can People magazine claim that this guy is the Sexiest Man Alive? Claiming that this guy is the Sexiest Man Alive implies that they consider every living man on the planet before making this decision. Maybe my questionnaire got lost in the mail or something, but I distinctly do not recall being contacted by People magazine over the past 12 months. Stuff like this is so unfair.

When they elected the new Pope last spring I didn't even get a whiff of consideration for the job. Just because I'm not some ass-kissing Cardinal in the Cathlic church I wasn't even given a second interview. Despite my two write-in votes. I dropped them off at my local church. They promised they'd Fed Ex them to the Vatican for me. Maybe they didn't hear me say that they absolutely, positively had to be there overnight. When the new U.S. Supreme Court Justice was nominated and approved by Congress, again I was ignored. Despite my two write in votes. My local congressman's office assured me that my self-nomination would be forwarded to the President immediately. When nominating a Supreme Court Justice don't they always talk about decisions he's written about in the past. About the positions the nominee has taken on certain key issues? Don't these people read my blog? Have I not made muy positions on just about everything clear over the past 8 months?

Not getting elected as Sexiest Man Alive really burns me though! I may actually sue People Magazine over this snub. I may not appear in movies or on television, but I've got a blog! I've even added a picture of myself to the profile to aid my candidacy. I'm starting my New Years resolution now and I am formally announcing my candidacy for 2006. People Magazine, are you listening?

The Miss Penitentiary Pageant

I read today that the Miss Penitentiary 2005 trophy was awarded today. Yes, this was a real news item. Apparently in South America they have this pageant to "boost the inmates self-esteem." It sure is nice to know that someone is worrying about the criminals feeling badly about themselves. Isn't the point of prison to make people feel badly? What do you suppose they did for the talent portion of the competition? "And now taking the stage will be Miss Penitentiary Uruguay! Her talent will be completely disemboweling an opponent in under 30 seconds using only a kitchen knife!" Female inmates? I think I'll pass on watching the swimsuit competition. Their swimsuit competition probably involved crossing the Amazon in a two piece while evading pirhanas. During the interview do you suppose any of them stated that they wanted to cure cancer, stop global warming, and make the world a better place for our children? "Miss Penitentiary Brazil, if you win the Miss Penitentiary title, what is one thing you would do with your new fame?" Miss Penitentiary Brazil: "Well, the first thing I'd do is pawn that tacky crown. It may be hideous, but those diamonds have got to be worth a fortune. If I don't pay back Vinny for that kilo I lost going through customs he's going to kill my little brother." Sweet. Yup, it is important that when these women are ready to return to society that they do so with their pride intact. Being named the prettiest prisoner is a lot like being named the smartest member of the Bush family.

Unusual Things I'm Thankful For

In the United States it is traditional to get together with family on the Thanksgiving holiday and share the important things you are thankful for before gorging yourself on a meal centered upon the large, dead carcass of the ugliest bird in North America. Every year everyone shares the usual platitudes about being thankful for family and good heath. Duh! Who can't come up with that? When I decided to write this I set out to write a positive, uplifting post so that my loyal readers don't think that my every thought and written or spoken word are tinged with biting sarcasm. So without further adieu, here are some of the everyday things I am thankful for:

The Bed Buddy. No, I am not referring to a convenient late night hook-up. I'm referring to my microwaveable heating pad. In just 1 minute and 55 seconds I can enjoy the pleasure of moist, penetrating, heat anywhere I want it. Ok, I guess it does sound like I'm referring to a convenient, late night hook-up.

Satellite radio. I have over 120 stations to choose from. I can pre-program 30 of them, making them available to me at the touch of a single button. I don't ever have to listen to a radio commercial ever again. I can put my satellite radio on one station and drive my car clear across the country without ever changing the channel. All because somewhere, several miles above the Earth, is a giant satellite beaming the radio signal directly to my car. I don't care if they discover that these satellite waves, possibly going straight through my skull on their way to my radio, cause tumors. The trade off is so worth it.

Boston Legal. Yes, the television show. It is very funny, but that's not my favorite part. At the conclusion of each episode, the characters of Denny Crane and Alan Shore, two arrogant, eccentric, and bombastic attorneys, get together on the balcony of their office to share a brandy and a cigar and to talk about their insecurities, hopes, dreams, failures, and foibles. I never tire of this 2 minute scene each episode. It is male bonding as it should be. Occasionally men do this in real life, but we never tell women about it.

Scallops wrapped in bacon. In my opinion there is nothing else edible that can cause me to go into a swoon like scallops wrapped in bacon with a little toothpick through them. I highly recommend removing the toothpick before ingesting these wonderful little delicacies. The taste isn't half as good when half of a toothpick is scraping it's way down the inside of your esophagus. If there is a Nobel Prize for cooking somebody should get one for this idea.

The Name Game You know the name game right? That little rhyming thing where you take any name and impose nonsense syllables upon it. With my name it goes like this: Philly Philly bo billy, banana fana fo Philly, me my mo milly, Philly! I didn't learn how to do this until I was 21 years old and it never fails to cheer me up or make me smile. I want to see everyone do the name game with their own name when you post a comment. (Just for fun at home, try it with the name Ducky)

The internet. Without it how would we ever find our perfect match using 29 personality variables? Also without the internet I could never get the daily positive reinforcement for my ridiculous thoughts and theories. I was always that kid that caused your teachers and parents to say, "Don't laugh, you'll only encourage him." Thank you all for encouraging me. Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Hairs Looking At You Kid

I get as frustrated with stupid people as anyone does. The problem is, we are all stupid in a myriad of ways. Men are stupid and women are stupid. We're just stupid in different ways.

Men are stupid if they think no one can tell if they have a toupee, hair plugs, a hair weave, or that brown sprayed on hair.

Women are stupid because they keep telling those men it looks natural.

If congress want to do everyone a favor they should stop worrying about cigarette smokers and try to eliminate the Hair Club for Men. The cigarette smokers will eventually eliminate themselves and, by attrition of customers, the companies that make cigarettes. Who will stop men from wearing those ridiculous looking hair replacement attempts? Women need to start being honest or we're all stuck looking at these hairless morons for eternity. (Don't read anything into this. I have enough hair to grow a serious mullet by the end of the week)

A Shameless Plug

I realize that most of my readers are women. If you are into fantasy football, or have a boyfriend, husband, significant other, or sugar daddy who is, please use my other website for all your fantasy football info. www.footballtangent.com

The previous was an unpaid commercial advertisement. I will resume my regularly scheduled idiocy tomorrow.

Cell Phone People Part V

Many of my long time readers, (well, both of them), will recognize this rant from Cell Phone People Parts I-IV posted from May 15th to June 30th. In those previous posts I railed against the stupidity of "cell phone people." Not everyone who owns a cell phone is one of the "cell phone people." Cell phone people are those social nuisances who feel that just because they have the ability to express their every thought to someone, that they should do so immediately, no matter where or when they are. The cell phone people also seem to believe that everyone they call must be deaf because they're always talking really loudly.

This week one of these "cell phone people" has made big news in the U.S. by robbing 4 Wachovia banks all while chatting on her cell phone. The Cell Phone Bandit, as she has been dubbed, walks into the bank, chatting on her cell phone, hands the teller a note demanding money, and carefully shows that she has a gun in her purse. Now this woman is a nuisance in two ways. How the hell have the authorities not caught this woman? After the first Wachovia bank gets robbed by a woman with a cell phone you might think it was an isolated incident. After two banks get robbed by the same woman in the same way, someone had to see a pattern. If I was in charge of Wachovia banks, after the second robbery I would have ordered a sign posted outside all their branches stating, "Due to the recent robberies anyone entering a Wachovia bank talking on a cell phone will be shot on sight. No questions asked. Have a nice day." If I'm a Wachovia security guard I happily oblige with this order. On any given day I personally have a hard time restraining myself from assaulting these cell phone dolts as it is. Now they may start taking my money? It is on!

I wonder what the cell phone bandit's conversations were like while she was robbing the banks? If she's anything like a typical cell phone dolt it probably went like this: "Oh yeah, you wouldn't believe it. Yeah, he makes those noises like every 5 seconds while were doing it. It's so weird. I don't think I can see him anymore. Hold on a sec, I'm at the bank. Yes, thank you. Small unmarked, non-sequential bills please. Nothing larger than a 20. Oh, and then when I tell Tina about this she's like 'But he's so cute in a blue collar sort of way.' Puh-lease! Tina can have him if you ask me. Oh, did you hear that my sister is getting married? To an Irish guy of all things! Yes, thank you. You have a nice day. I've got to get off the phone now. I'm getting in the car. Yeah, we'll go out tonight. I'm buying. Talk to you later." In a perfect world this conversation would be followed by a gunshot and a futile call to 911, made on a now bloodied cell phone.

Phil Factor's Day Off

Sloan: What are we going to do?

Ferris: The question isn't "what are we going to do," the question is "what aren't we going to do?"

Aaaaah! They joy of an unexpected day off from work. What could be better than that? I need to be at work. I should be at work. But right now, I am not at work. Unfortunately Cameron isn't on his way over to pick me up so we can go joy riding in Chicago. Even more unfortunately is the fact that food and I seem to be having a serious disagreement. I'm not totally incapacitated by my malady however. So what should I do? First I decided to slip into a pair of old, comfortable jeans and my favorite football jersey. I plan on doing some serious lounging today. Second, I obviously came here to gloat to all you fellow bloggers who will read this tonight after your long work day. Now that I've laid off food for a few hours I actually feel kind of good. I'm tempted to play some serious hooky. Go to the mall, go to the gym, take myself out to lunch (that's probably not a good idea, but I'd love to eat something better than soup and crackers. Maybe I should go rent a few of my favorite movies. Outdoor activities are definitely out. Here in the northeastern U.S it's getting a bit chilly. Maybe if I'm really quick I can drive to Pennsylvania and buy some fireworks and set them off in my yard. The great part of being an adult is that you don't have to ask anyone if you want to stay home sick. No one takes your temperature or verifies if you've actually vomited. If I go to the mall there won't be a truancy officer to ask my why I'm not at work. My boss and co-workers are at work, so there's no one to rat me out no matter where I go. This is better than a planned vacation day because it was unexpected. Maybe I'll just take a nap. I think that's the definition of adulthood. Sleeping when you want to. As a kid, you never want to sleep. Not for naps, not at night, not ever. You might miss something. As an adult we often live for the times we do get to miss something. Right now, I hope my job misses me more than I miss being there.

The Church of Phil

Let's step into the Way Back Machine and return to last Monday. It was Halloween. I took my adorable little boys Trick or Treating. That adorable little tradition where we encourage them to put on masks and accost complete strangers in their homes for candy. We also throw in a threat (trick) if they don't cough up the goods. It sounds like the little tikes are being trained to rob banks. Most of the kids seem to be dressed in a costume that embodies violence anyway, adding a little more credibility to their threat. Halloween is one of my favorite holidays, but in my mind it was tainted this year by what I found in one of my children's Trick or Treat bags. As a responsible parent I of course check through my children's bags of goods when we return from our annual neighborhood extortion spree just to make sure some psychopath isn't giving out popcorn balls full of rat poison. I often even go so far as to eat all Reese's Peanut Butter Cups just to protect my children from the potential for future clogged arteries. This year I found something worse than rat poison. Someone wasn't trying poison my son's body, they were trying to poison his mind. No, it wasn't as bad as Republican re-election propaganda, but it was close. On a small bag of chips someone had placed a sticker with a bible verse on it about turning away from the power of Satan to God. At that moment, after reading the deeply moving scripture, I had an epiphany. An awakening of sorts. I realized that one of my neighbors was an a-hole. What kind of a nut job uses an innocent children's holiday to try to recruit followers? If I want to take my children out to worship Satan in my own neighborhood don't try to ruin it with your wholesome goodness! I didn't know which neighbor it was who had committed such an atrocity on one of the best days of the year, but if I had known I might have said, "Hey moron! You may be holier than thou, but you're definitely not smarter than thou. The kids going door to door asking for free candy are not worshipping Satan. They're worshipping the great sugar buzz they'll be annoying their parents with for the next week. If you want to prevent Satan worship why don't you go out into the woods and find a group of black clad people chanting and preparing a human sacrifice. Give them your f-ing chips! If chips with some nice sour cream and onion dip isn't proof of a loving and benevolent God, then I don't know what is. You might want to throw in a six pack of beer with that. A cold beer beats a cup of warm blood any day." Does anyone remember Jim Jones and his cult in Guyana 20 years ago? They drank Kool-Aid didn't they? I wonder if that was just to wash down their chips. That's all we have to do to battle the forces of darkness. Just have better snacks. I think I may start my own church based on that premise.

The F Word

Yes, I really am talking about THE F word. The big one. The mother of all swear words. The big kahuna of cursing. The pinnacle of profanity. The excellent expletive. Enough alliteration already? The F word is so handy that it can be considered the Swiss Army knife of cussing. The F word is used in so many contexts that it must be impossible for a visitor to our country to figure out exactly what it means when you get right down to it. We say F you! What the F are you looking at? Why the F would you do that? Are you F'ing crazy? Can you F'ing believe that? You F-er! Almost every usage of the F word implies anger, aggression or incredulity. All the ways we use the F word however, are completely ironic when you consider it's literal meaning. That is really F'ed up isn't it? The literal meaning of the F word is a less than tactful way to name a wonderful recreational activity. Why do we take the word that defines something as wonderful as a beautiful physical bonding, the act that creates life, or just a really fantastic thing to do and make it a word that embodies hatred, anger or how much of a problem something has become? Why not use another word that is more appropriate to the meaning? Why not replace the F word in our cursing with a word that really symbolizes something that everyone hates or gets angry about? I don't know what word it should be. Any suggestions? If you don't like my idea, then F you. And I mean that in the best possible way. Have a nice weekend : )