- Sarah Palin is MILF-tastic. I could care less about her politics or shitting developmentally disabled babies out of her old dried-up uterus when she has that slutty soccer mom thing working for her.
- Foreign policy lessons for America from the Byzantine Empire. Very Art of War with guerrilla warfare sprinkles on top. I agree with most of these points, however, the United States has the tremendous advantage of geographic isolation which the Byzantine Empire did not. This means we can wage wars on six continents with a slim a chance of the conflicts spilling over into the Motherland. So unless we drop bombs on Canada or Mexico, I am guessing Americans will flourish historically a lot longer than the Byzantines.
- The more I see of Ice-T’s wife Coco, the happier with him as a person I become. Continue to Peel Their Caps Back, good sir.
After reviewing this list, I would have to say that 1984 was the best year for movies. I can quote countless lines of dialogue from memory on most of those films. My dad really let me watch some inappropriate films during my impressionable years. He took me to see Ghostbusters, Gremlins, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom (the very first movie rated PG-13) and Police Academy in the theaters. Terminator, Red Dawn, Revenge of the Nerds, Nightmare On Elm Street and Sixteen Candles found their way to me via HBO with my dad’s standard caveat, “Don’t let your mother know I let you watch this.” There was some excellent gratuitous nudity in those films; Police Academy, Purple Rain (Apollonia jumping into Lake Minnetonka), Revenge of the Nerds (full frontal), The Terminator (right before Sarah Connor’s roommate gets “terminated”) and Sixteen Candles (Caroline in the locker room shower). Sadly, there will probably never be a year of cinema packed full of winners like that again. Unless someone decides to resurrect Steve Guttenberg and Ralph Macchio’s careers.
The wife has successfully gone number three and brought into this world our first offspring. She was in labor for 33 hours and produced our eight pound, twenty-inch boy on April 7, 2009 just after 8:13 PM. I saw many things I can never un-see during the birth of my son. All parts of the female anatomy are now completely demystified for me. While I can still objectify naked woman, I now understand that nature intended for boobs to be suckled by infants and that a vagina was meant for a baby to be pushed out of, not for me to press/push/thrust my penis on/in/around. The boy is experiencing a touch of the Jaundice and is currently laying in a portable baby tanning bed, but other than that, we are all happy, healthy and exhausted.
The Women of Starbucks I supported because we all have a barista in our lives that make our mornings bearable with a cute smile and fantastic breasts. The Women of Enron I rallied behind because Enron screwed a lot of its employees out of their retirement savings and, hey; nude business chicks! The Women of Home Depot I half-heartedly accepted as I once saw a semi-attractive female working in the lumber department at my neighborhood store and I may have been interested in seeing her naked if liquored up properly and nothing good was on television. The Women of Olive Garden I cannot and will not get behind due to the fact I have never seen an attractive female employee in my limited experience with the chain. An overweight, single mother with bad hair and a marinara-stained shirt maybe.
While on a conference call with a client who spent the majority of the time figuring out an easy content management system who dropped the following phrase numerous times, “Okay. Hold on just a second …5 minutes of silence… Ohhhhhhhhhhh. That is easy!” I was left with time to ponder important Art Director decisions. Decisions like who the hottest bitches of 2008 are. According to Maxim, it is Sports Illustrated Swimsuit cover model Marissa Miller. Well played, Maxim. I do, however, have to take exception with your placement of Britney at 19. Seriously? 19? FHM gave the hot chick medal of honor to Megan Fox. Even though Jake has no love for her, she is slutty delicious and I look forward to seeing her rack in more overly-hyped, big budgeted, acting-anemic Michael Bay joints. Then there are the lesbians. Apparently they are all about Tina Fey. Look, I get it. She is smart, cute, has that trashy librarian vibe and is funny on 30 Rock. But number 1? You disappoint me, lesbians. Her face scar alone should drop her out of the top ten (strictly from a comparison standpoint). Lastly, I take extreme exception with Gwen Stefani not being mentioned on any of these lists (and I know from personal experience that the lesbians love Gwen Stefani). Please review this Maxim, FHM and lesbians. That is all.
- The comics deal that put Mile High Comics and Charles Rozanski on the map.
- The 20 biggest record company screw-ups of all time. Number one? The killing of Napster. Also ridiculous yet notable; the selling of Motown for peanuts, letting Bob Dylan go for a thousand bucks and the Guns N’ Roses Chinese Democracy debacle.
- An image gallery of the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue covers from 1964-2008.
- Kate Beckinsale. Meow. I have been a fan ever since she started fighting werewolves and vampires in a tight, black jumpsuit and bustier.
- Lindsay Lohan. Doing the Marilyn thing (NSFW). Whatever. Everyone has seen her cash and prizes (NSFW) before, so getting an unobstructed view of her bare chest is not all that exciting. Regardless, the pictures are tastefully done and my maleness caused me to pause and acknowledge her befreckled fun bags. It is still too difficult to tell if the carpet matches the drapes due to her clean, close shave.
- Scarlett Johansson and Natalie Portman. It is a strange moment when Natalie Portman becomes the grenade in any scenario, but she is standing next to Scarlett Johansson’s tits. Those things are like attractive friend Kryptonite; their glory weakens any hotness within their immediate vicinity.
The always timeless Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue hits newsstands this week and SI has posted a complimentary web directory so comprehensive that it nullifies the need for a printed magazine. The Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue is responsible for me spending the better half of my formidable years tacking Kathy Ireland covers to my wall, enduring repeated viewings of Necessary Roughness and making Pee-Chee folder collages with shots of Elle McPherson and her snorkeling equipment. Back then, you could not find a sport associated with bikinis so it was nigh impossible to justify a pubescent grocery store checkout line purchase to your mother. But than this happened. And it was good.
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: 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.”
- A multitasking rapist. I think rape etiquette should tell you to set a cell phone on ‘Airplane Mode’ or at least leave it in the getaway car.
- A mutant skin disease from the Eastern bloc. I usually pride myself on sniffing out photo manipulation of any sort and this seems to be legit.
- Her boobs, her boobs, her boobs are okay. Her sweater puppies are beyond okay; they are fantastic.