Miss USA Rima Fakih is a NY Met Fan! (at least for 1 day)

Newly crowned Miss USA Rima Fakih is a Met fan! I believe that she is the same young woman that starred in all those Disney High School Musical videos.

She's using Angel Pagan's bat, Gary Carter's jersey* but Jose Reyes gets to check out her form.

She has a better looking cut than David Wright! Nice and level, and Keith Hernandez will be happy to see that she opened up her hips!
Is Rima the real deal or will she abandon us for the LA Dodgers in a couple of months like former "Most Beautiful Met Fan and Traitor" Alyssa Milano?

Alyssa Milano back in the good old days showing that she knew how to "poke" one through the infield...

*Please tell me it was a Gary Carter or a Duffy Dyer jersey and not a disease-ridden Gary Shefield!!!

I Wouldn't Fuck Bristol Palin with Ann Coulter's Dick!

From an article in Harper's Bazaar.

Can someone explain this?

Actual caption: Family recipe: Willow helps her sister in the kitchen. Carolina Herrera dresses.

Actual caption: Tea Party movement: Bristol at home with son Tripp. Lanvin gown, $4,385. Barneys New York, L.A.; 310-276-4400. Karma El Khalil earrings, $13,750. Giorgio Armani ring, $650. 310-271-5555. Kathy Rose for Roseark bracelet, $13,000.

My sincere apologies to William Safire and Jeffrey Ross.

My sincere thanks to Princess Sparkle Pony.

Playmates of the Year - 2009

Every year since Playboy's 50th anniversary, I line up the centerfolds of the year and make snarky comments. For wittier comments and uncensored (and really big) photos, head over to Electronic Cerebrectomy.

The year is 2009 and the playmates are white, white-er and white-est. There are three Crystals, six blondes and six non-blondes. Strangely, there are four centerfolds that are not smiling (and only one is attempting sultry) and three that are not exposing their breasts. Boobies are trending toward natural, the butts are bountiful and for a bunch of naked chicks there is almost no sexual tension.


Miss January
Dasha Astafieva
The darkest flavor of the month, Dasha is almost caramel or maybe a very pale olive.

---

Miss February
Jessica Burciaga
When I was a kid, I dreamed of wallpapering my room with old centerfolds and installing a gigantic make-up mirror with big lights.

---

Miss March
Jennifer Pershing
Ten hut! The General's on base and my missle is locked and loaded. She looks like she's mad that you soiled her life's work. If I were you, I would run and hide.

---

Miss April
Hope Dworaczyk
I got nothing except that it looks like they did the photoshoot in my apartment (and that's a camel toe not a gorilla paw).

---

Miss May
Crystal McCahill
A sweet 1950's pose. Your dad probably banged her mother while my dad was over in Korea eating pickled cabbage.

---

Miss June
Candice Cassidy
She's cute but she definitely has that Fox News reporter look. "And now with more on Sheik Obama's plan to quadruple the tax on oil, our own Fox News political analyst, Candy Cassidy."

---

Miss July and August
Karissa and Kristina Shannon
Texas twins! Or not, still 100% barely aged beef.

---

Miss September
Crystal Phillips
She looks just like my brother's wife's younger sister, except with long reddish hair that doesn't smell like Marlboros, a smoking body, two eyebrows, teeth and perfect skin. Okay, so her pillow looks just like my brother's wife's younger sister's pillow.

---

Miss October
Lindsey Evans
This one has less curves than a straight line. She's so angry that they're exploiting her that she may not even DP Hef and David Spade.

---

Miss November
Kelley Thompson
My personal favorite, Kelley looks like she could star in her own Nickelodeon sitcom. Also, I got to use unusual images for her unusual naughty bits.

---

Miss December
Crystal Harris
That's a lot of spunk or a lot of hairspray. I'm betting on spunk.

---

2009 Yearly Summary

2 chocolate kisses
1 landing strip
1 light bulb

1 back bacon

2 pimples
2 bowling balls
1 camel toe
1 golden raisin
1 Fox News logo
2 100% Texas Beef logos
2 strawberries

2 wood floors
2 peaches
2 puffy marshmallows
1 Hitler's moustache
2 silver dollars

Sadly, another year goes by without the use of an Oscar Gamble.

More Wall Street Journal Humor - Weird Twin Clone War Edition

Another Post Courtesy of the Wall Street Journal - I kid Rupert Murdoch a lot when we see each other at the Friar's Club but his rag does supply an endless assortment of crap for my blog.

The Wall Street Journal has a daily cartoon called Pepper and Salt that I really, really don't like. Apparently, rich Wall Street scumbags have their own unique form of humor that is not funny. Here are cartoons from today and last week.



Sure, these cartoons are pathetically unfunny, but what's most striking about them is how much these unrelated people look alike. Are these cartoonists such lousy artists that they can only draw one kind of person? Do you think that a. bacall spent so many years trying to figure out how to draw curly hair that he forgot how to draw straight hair? I almost feel bad for the guy. All he can draw is an afro and the Wall Street Journal will not buy a cartoon with a black guy in it. He should thank Jehovah for the Jew-Fro.

DaveGrpenter might have it worse. The only kind of human he can draw is a balding, big-nosed schlump with no chin. And he can only do one kind of clothes, white pants (with strange wrinkles), white shirt, striped tie with tiny gay shoes. It's a good thing he can draw two kinds of chairs.

When you first read these cartoons you think, oh no, they're just like the cartoons in the New Yorker, I'm too stupid to understand them. But after weeks of analysis, I've come to the conclusion that we're smart enough, they just suck, and they almost never have anything to do with business, or the right wing agenda of the Wall Street Journal.

This is the part of the post where I attempt to write funnier captions. Don't forget, this is a "business" comic for Wall Street Journal readers that is officially housed in the collections of the Harvard Business School Library assuring that future generations of MBA assholes will have no sense of humor. If you are the president of a major university and want to house a collection of my work, e-mail me.

First up, twin therapy:




And the winner so far:


Now, the clone interview:




And the winner so far:





Even, Even More Wall Street Journal Humor

St. Patrick's Day, No Irish Jokes, Please
Global Warming Wine-ing
Diversity in the Workplace
Dying Polar Bears are Funny
No Child Left Behind
Dog Day Afternoon
Health Care Reform is Funny
Heaven Can't Wait
Bitter Libations
Map Folding Fun
Wall Street Journal Humor is a Bitch


Quick Note and Two Quick Drawings

Nobody pays me to draw (sadly, nobody pays me to write, either) but I figured I'd give these cartoons a try and see if I could render two people that do not look like twins.

Literally, seven minutes. Enough time to give the one guy a goatee and a sweater, recreate Edvard Munch's Scream, and draw a pretty good Snoopy.



I got a little faster the second time and I spent a whole minute needlessly drawing Rupert Murdoch.

How much does the Wall Street Journal pay these guys for this crap work? Whatever it is, it is way too much.

UPDATE 5/25/10 - Reader Submitted Captions!


All funnier than the original Wall Street Journal attempt.


Anonymous submitted two. First, short and sweet. Although, the implication that the son is twiddling his lightsaber to his mom makes me queasy. Second, classic observational humor...


If Anonymous had left a name/username/link, she would have been able to proudly show this to her grandkids and I would have plugged her good.





William Safire, or Bill to his friends, took a cheap shot at Eliot Spitzer, always a good, comedic strategy.

36 Hours in Uhstan, Kazakhstan: A Travel Guide*

*Not associated with the New York Times article that pissed me off.Last week, when the editors at George Magazine pitched this assignment, I jumped at it. With the exception of Houston, Texas, there are not too many places in the world I won't visit as long as I'm paid well and get to expense everything. Zagreb, Rajasthan, Phuket, even Mexico City, I've visited them all in search of a paycheck and a good time. Kazakhstan? No problem. Everyone laughed at me when I took three years of Kazakh in high school instead of Spanish. Who's laughing now?

Kazakhstan is known as the Texas of Central Asia. It's the biggest, it's the most obnoxious, it's got the most horses and the most oil, and it has a lot of Bush. Springtime in Kazakhstan! Average daytime temperature in May? -20°C, that's -348° Kelvin. I packed the long underwear.

5:30 PM Friday

Uhstan (pronounced you-stun) is often called the Houston of Kazakhstan and when you see all the generic gray and glass towers, and the smog, you'll understand why. Ignore the ugliness of the surroundings and head to Repressdom Square, a welcome Soviet-era respite from the concrete jungle. Enjoy a tepid bowl of kumis (8 borats), a delightful local beverage derived from fermented mare's milk, as you gaze upon the most glorious landmark in all of Kazakhstan, the statue of the favorite son, Borat Sagdiyev.

8:00 PM Friday

A horse is a horse of course, of course. And you have never eaten a horse, of course. That is, of course, unless the horse is the famous Mr. Ed... Never eaten a horse? Welcome to Kazakhstan!!! Where horse is the new red meat, the new white meat, replaces most vegetables and fruit, and well, here's the Kazakhstan Food Pyramid:


Uhstan's young chefs are boiling enough water to fill the Aral Sea, so that any horse you order is fork-tender, sweet and as gray as an afternoon temperature inversion. The best beshbarmak, the National Dish of Kazakhstan, is served at From the Horse's Mouth (47 borats).

Boiled for over 6 hours over horse dung fires, the tender morsels fall off the bone on to the tasteless pieces of boiled dough.

10 PM Friday

The nightlife in Uhstan is famous throughout the central steppes and is second only to the far hipper town of Austain. At the slick Mecca Lecca High Club, order a Golden Shower (22 borats), an intoxicatingly, sweet concoction composed of schweem, fermented gelding urine, and the ubiquitous kumis. Watch the non-Muslim minority locals bop until the State-mandated curfew closes the doors at midnight. Hint, the chickens are usually easier to pick up -- just stick one under your arm.

11 AM Saturday

Get out of bed and head over to Steppe Right Up for a light breakfast of kazy and eggs (9 borats). Kazy is a traditional sausage of horse rib meat stuffed into horse intestines. Dried for 3 days in the sun and then boiled for 2 hours, kazy is like a little bit of Kazakhstan right on your tongue and is truly a breakfast that sticks to your ribs.

1 PM Saturday

Stroll through the bustling Uhstan Meat Market and marvel at all of the exotic delicacies derived from the lowly horse.

At Doshkan's House of Horse, order a sample plate (14 borats); favorites include Clydesdale carpaccio, Mustang meatballs and a pair of plump, Lypizzaner lips.

2 PM Saturday

Take a quick day trip on horseback to the old city of Karaganda. Pack a box lunch of zhaya (6 borats) a stewed meat dish that is made from horse back. The upper muscular layer with fat is cut off and salted. Then it is dried, smoked and boiled for at least 9 hours. Karaganda, a former coal town, is now a vibrant city with two major exports. Take a stroll through the bustling Karaganda Meat Market.

I picked up a vintage, post-Soviet model (8,400 borats) for my loser brother-in-law. There is convenient shipping available (50 borats) so that you don't have to splurge on a plane ticket (2,600 borats).

The other major Karaganda export is white, pink and beige babies. I wasn't interested so I spent my time window shopping.

7:30 PM Saturday

Back in Uhstan, don't be a horse's ass and get in the long, long line at Kasym Khan's Kozy Karta Klub, make a reservation.

The only food on the menu is karta and that's okay because this karta is the best karta you'll ever eat. To make his karta, Kasym takes the thick part of a horse rectum without removing the fat, and then carefully turns it inside out so that the fat is on the inside. Then he salts the rectum, dries it in a cool place for 3 days, smokes it for 24 hours and then dries it again for 2 days. Finally, he wipes the rectum well and then boils it for 2 hours. The karta is then cut into rings and served with a sprinkling of dill. You'll never settle for a simple rusty trombone again.

11 PM Saturday

Go back in time to the giddy days of the Cold War at Laikas. Named for the dog that the Russians sent into space with no means for return, this Soviet space themed bar is heating up both sides of the Iron Curtain as the locals and tourists glasnost the night away on the dance floor.

Order the house special, Uranium 238 (17 borats), made with Semipalatinsk Vodka from potatoes grown in the some of the oldest radioactive fields in Kazakhstan, this drink would make Daffy Duck proud.

10 AM Sunday

In Uhstan, Sunday brunch means just one thing, horse. Dig your spurs into a steaming bowl of zhal (10 borats) at the trendy Equestrian Eateries. Zhal is the oblong accumulation of fat in the under part of the horse’s neck. It is salted for 6 days then dried for 10 hours. Before boiling, zhal is soaked in cold water for a day; then it is boiled on a slow fire for 12 hours. Served with toast, fermented horse butter and a horse eye jam called zretya, this is a dish that will race neck and neck to the top of your favorite food list.

12 PM Sunday

Before your flight home, take in a local game of Kyz Kuu or "Girl Chasing." It's sort of like polo for krazy Kazakhs. At KazMunayGas Stadium (upper deck: 34 borats), a girl on a horse does her best to gallop away from a bunch of young men on horses but as soon as the latter tries to overtake her she lashes him with a whip. If the young boy fails to overtake her before the finish line she rewards him with a whipping. If a lucky and skillful boy catches up with the girl, he attempts to snatch a headscarf out of her teeth. If he is successful, he earns a kiss. Then they boil the horses and eat them.

It's amazing anyone gets laid in Kazakhstan.

Postscript

Imagine my surprise when I handed in my story and the editor told me that he thought I was going to Houston, Texas not Uhstan, Kazakhstan! Imagine the editor's surprise when he gets my expense form!

Other Wasted Weekends

36 Hours in Phuket, Thailand
36 Hours in Mexico City
36 Hours in Rajasthan, India
36 Hours in Zagreb, Croatia

Head Scratchin' Advertising

Most of the time, I can figure ads out. They're usually pretty damn obvious. But not always. Here's an ad from 1901.


Washington to California for seven dollars! But that doesn't interest me. I'm confused by the artwork that was carefully rendered to sell train tickets.

The hussy is sticking her cabbose right in the porter's face.


And the porter's eyes are staring right at that ample posterior like those hoop skirts might be hiding two of the biggest, ripest watermelons this side of the Mason Dixon line. Look at the expression on the guy's face.

"Whoo lawd, Miss Daisy. Must be jellys coz jam don't shake that a ways!"

It's 1901. Your wife, daughter, or mother has to go out to California. You have your choice of train lines. Who does this advertisement appeal to? Who wants a leering train conductor oogling the woman in his life.

And yes, the guy is a horrible drawing of a racial sterotype. No wonder A. Phillip Randolph* worked so hard to unionize the Pullman porters!!!

---

Fast forward to 2008.


I've had this ad hanging outside my cubicle for a couple of years. No, he's not my type. It's been hanging outside my cubicle for years, remember? I've heard it all. Don't bother.

How does this guy sell a scanner? This ad was in an IT trade magazine.

"Murray? It's Harvey over at Glickman and Schmutz. I've got this shoot tomorrow and I need the gayest-looking, bald guy you got. Hmm, trade journal. It's for a scanner. Great! He sounds perfect. Thanks, babe."

Then they dress the guy up in an outfit left over from the Andy Griffith Show. Then they come up with this tagline, "It's a Snap." You know, because gay guys snap their fingers a lot and say, "Snap." No, they do. Well, black gay guys do. You used to watch In Living Color twenty years ago, right? All the black, bald, gay guys that wear little clown hats say "Snap."

Am I supposed to buy a Fujitsu scanner because I'm a loser IT guy and this dude makes me feel better about myself? Because I'm an IT chick and this guy looks like he knows a thing or two about scanners? Because I'm a gay IT guy and this guy is dreamy?

*Of course I know who A. Randolph Phillips is, I had to make a diorama about him for Black History Month back in the 3rd grade. The black kids always got Jackie Robinson or Muhammad Ali while me, the skinny white boy, got stuck with A. Randolph Phillips, Ralph Bunche and Maya Angelou. You try filling up a shoebox with interesting stuff about A. Randolph Phillips!

Thanks to Steve, the guy in the cubicle next to mine, for sending me the ad from 1901.