To discuss a TV Play by Play: Bromance- We Still Like Girls, We Promise

For a little extra something to get you through the day before you party tonight (what, my co-blog with Lump wasn't enough?), here's a TV Play-by-Play for you. I couldn't pass this show up: MTV's Bromance, starring Brody Jenner of The Hills fame. Brody is looking for a new best friend, and is determined to make the entire ordeal as close to a quasi-gay experience as he can, with lots of awkward hugs and half-naked man time. Oh, this should be good...
Let's get started- the premiere episode:

:01 This series is called Bromance. They say it with a straight face, and yet, no straight guy would say "Bromance." Something's gotta give. Brody compares it to a girl's relationship with her chihuahua. Wait a second, I own a chihuahua. Does that mean Bailey and I have a Bromance too?
:02 Brody reveals he's doing this show because Spencer Pratt screwed him over. Didn't see that one coming, Brody? That was a surprise to you?
:02 How is this not about a gay relationship, again?
:03 The nine contestants/male escorts are ripped out of their hotel beds by big burly dudes (called Bears in the gay community- amiright?) and taken to meet Brody. In real life, this is called a booty call. In Bromance, this is called the opening scene.
:04 I'll try not to chronicle every minute, but there's just too much good stuff. It's revealed that there are seven (!?!?!) producers for this show, including Ryan Seacrest... because when you spend every spring trying to fend off Simon Cowell's quips about you liking dudes, you should definitely produce a show called "Bromance."
:12 The guys get their first challenge: Find two hot girls and bring them to a lingerie party. Winner is the one with the hottest girls. Femi (short for feminine?) says the challenge is too easy because talking to girls is "What I do when I sleep." That might be your first issue, Femi. You should be awake when you flirt.
:13 The token gay guy-- he's actually gay, not closet gay-contestant-on-a-show-about-finding-one-true-bromance-- has no problem finding chicks. He says it's because girls are attracted to a gay man "Like a moth to a flamer." Touche. But easy on the eyebrow plucking. It looks like Follicle's Last Stand up there.
:15 Tan beefcake Jered has trouble doing math... but look at those dimples!
:25 Most of the guys are successful finding girls for the party, perhaps because there are cameras following them everywhere and girls want their 10 seconds of fame. The boys then take turns giving Brody a toast, which one boy dubs a "Broast." Get it? Like toast, except more homoerotic.
:32 Jered also has trouble forming sentences... But look at those... eh, screw it, the dude is dumb.
:33 A touching moment: Brody announces which guy "brought the hottest girls tonight," giving the honor to Luke. So, for those of you scoring at home, Brody just made it clear to all the other girls who were invited that they aren't as attractive and are only around for show. This same philosophy has been applied to Nicole Scherzinger's back-up singers, also called the Pussycat Dolls.
:35 Luke wins a special limo ride home with Brody. In a glimpse of homoerotic things to come, they exchange an awkward goodbye hug not seen since the closing moments of "Blind Date" episodes with Roger Lodge.
:41 Mike, the gay dude, tells Brody he wants to go home, because he was hoping the house would be more like The Hills and that maybe Brody would do him.
:49 It's time for an elimination. In Bromance style, it's held in Brody's giant hot tub, with all the guys half-naked. Yep, that doesn't look awkward at all. Just a bunch of straight bros, relaxing together in a hot tub. With no girls in sight... Just talking about their feelings. And with Ryan Seacrest watching.
:54 The dude kicked off is Jacob, who swore like a trucker during his toast and is one of those annoying people who likes to talk in melodramatic statements about the meaning of life... I respect Brody a little bit more now.
:58 "Brody's never met a guy like me before.... I'll do anything, whatever it takes...Brody just makes you feel so comfortable, like you've known him your whole life..." Are we sure this isn't a dating show? Like, absolutely positive? I'm a metrosexual kind of dude, but I don't go around telling my guy friends how they make me melt inside when I'm around them. I wait until I'm alone and can have a good cry.

To discuss a Lump in My ARS co-blog: Our 2009 Resolutions We Promise to Break Any Day Now

I'll let you catch your breath while you recover from the colorful graphic. It's practically USA Today up in this mother.

On the eve of the New Year, I couldn't pass up the chance to list the resolutions I have absolutely no chance of completing successfully. But, rather than simply list my failures like I've done in the past, I joined forces Jedi-style with Katie of She's Lump to make this a more in-depth post. And by in-depth, I mean lots of perverted jokes and references to pop culture. We only make one or two references to child molesters, so I consider it a success.

Today is Part 1- My resolutions are here, and hers is posted on her site... It's more colorful language than usual- I promised Lump I'd curse. She promised not to emasculate me too much.
Tomorrow is Part 2- "2009 Predictions Sure to Come True, Unless They Don't."
Let's get this party started...

Andy's Resolutions:

1. I will keep my apartment neat and tidy so that Capricorn and I aren't forced to frequently stop mid-sentence, look around and say, "We really need to clean today." This should last for a good two to three months, until we become lazy and rationalize that at least it's better than a frat house and there's still a clear path to the bathroom.
K: I think you may need a "Just in Case you need an Excuse to Party" poster and a super soaker (see her resolutions). Dude, I will bring the beer.

2. I will keep up with exercising a few times a week to make my body look good while I'm still young enough to keep my body looking good without the need for crash dieting and Chuck Norris exercise equipment. If I fail at this, I'll limit my moping to no more than three pints of Ben and Jerry's. A night. For a week. I'll also stop trying to run faster and longer on the treadmill than the guy next to me, especially if he is from an African country that ends with a vowel.
K: Instead of running a marathon on the treadmill to keep your body looking good, you could always take Kung Fu like me. I mean, check out my last Kung Fu photo and blog post. One commenter said I look like a SEVEN YEAR OLD. Oh wait, having a seven year old body isn't really considered "looking good" is it? Unless you're Michael Jackson.
ARS: Or a Chinese gymnast.

3. I will not lose my motivation for my career in the fall like I do every year, leading to months of searching online for jobs that require no experience, little time and pay six figures so that I can pursue my interest in professional karaoke singing. Instead, I'll be satisfied with the well-established, successful career I already have, since I have yet to hear back from that Kenyan prince and his offer to have me manage his finances if I just make the first deposit of $5,000 in an offshore account.
K: You probably haven't heard back from this Kenyan Prince because you haven't deposited $5,000 yet. You ever think about that? Do you want to borrow some money? Well, tough shit.
ARS: Not even, say, 10 bucks? I'm so broke right now, I have to take doggie bags home from McDonalds. I'm one traumatic event away from blowing people in a back alley for a Twinkie and some quarters. It's the price you pay... for balloon animals.

4. I will try food I've never tasted, visit a city I've never heard of, watch a reality show I've never seen, and talk to a person I've never met. When that leads to me vomiting, getting lost, losing IQ points and getting abducted and featured on Dateline, I'll blog about it and pretend I intended for all that to happen for the greater good of comedy.
K: You know, that would be hilarious. Give me a shout out on Dateline, will ya?
ARS: Weren't you already on there? I thought I saw you in some dude's kitchen during that To Catch a Predator series.

5. I will not go to Banana Republic. I will not go to Banana Republic. I will not go to Banana Republic. (If I keep repeating it, I think it may come true... wait a second... if that's the case...) I will convince Natalie Portman and Capricorn to make out. I will convince Natalie Portman and Capricorn to make out....
K: OK, not going to Banana Republic is a piece of cake, Andy. I want to see you not spend any money on Banana Republic garb. And every night I will say a little prayer for you in hopes that will help Natalie Portman and Capricorn to get it on. Hey, what are friends for?
ARS: $10 loans. Now where's my money?
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Don't forget to come back tomorrow (after you take an Advil for that hangover) to read our "2009 Predictions Sure to Come True, Unless They Don't"

To discuss a Weekend Christmas Update, Question Style

1. It was Christmas morning, and I was driving around looking for chicken cordon bleu.
Was it because I:
a) Get pregnancy cravings
b) Needed to find a last-second dish to bring to Christmas dinner, and they were already out of roast beast and Christmas goose
c) Wanted to get an inside joke gift for Capricorn's dad, but the grocery store closed earlier than expected Christmas Eve, leaving me gift-less

2. I took Bailey to the vet on Saturday. When we got into the the exam room, Bailey:
a) Found a plush toy and humped it like he was trying to repopulate the earth with Muppets.
b) Let loose a stream of pee that soon became the sixth Great Lake, and then proceeded to stand in said yellow lake for dramatic effect.
c) Performed a soliloquy out of Macbeth

3. Capricorn and I went on a double-date on Saturday to see a live comedy show. The comedian joked that I probably have four chest hairs (only three, actually) and that Capricorn should:
a) Dump me for someone who doesn't like alcoholic beverages that require umbrellas and fruit
b) Go on Paris Hilton's My New BFF
c) Shove a Pepsi bottle in my ass because I'm probably into that

4. My family and Capricorn got me awesome presents for Christmas. I got a sweet DSLR camera that will enhance my ability to photograph strangers as they undress take walks in the park. Some other gifts are:
a) An electric shaver, a Griswold Family Christmas t-shirt and a gift certificate that my dad lost last year before Christmas and finally gave to me now.
b) The Hills on DVD, a Big Wheels, an animated blow-up doll, and your mom
c) Paintball lessons with Dwight Schrute, a hippo, my two front teeth, and your sister

5. There is another co-blog coming up Wednesday and Thursday, following up last week's Top 10 Sports Movie List with Joshlos. This time, Katie and I will write about:
a) Why any subsequent Batman sequel will just be a letdown unless one of the actors dies right before it opens, and how we think we can make this happen.
b) Why girls are silly if they wear booty shorts with "Juicy" on the butt and a low-cut shirt and then are mad that boys only want them for their bodies.
c) Our resolutions for the New Year, and our predictions for 2009, celebrity style.

Answer Key:
1. B: For a month, I had wanted to get her dad this gift, which is related to an inside joke about her mom never cooking him this dish. There was a frozen box of prepared chicken cordon bleu at the store that would've been perfect and sure to get laughs. The store closed early, and I had to go the gift card route. But he has a birthday in January, so I'll do it then.
2. B: The vet never blinked. She kept asking questions. And thanks for all the well wishes for Bailey. He'd thank you himself, but he's such a diva.
3. C: That show renewed my interest in doing improv or stand-up comedy someday.
4. A: I have a family full of good gift-giving. And if you're wondering, Capricorn got a Joe Flacco Baltimore Ravens jersey (exactly what she asked for... I had to special order it in the women's style), a DVD of Charlie Brown Christmas (which she absolutely loves to watch), and gold gloves, which she had been trying to find in stores for months.
5. C: And with Katie on board, it's sure to be hilarious.

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There was a tie for first place in my Favorite Christmas Movie poll, so I'll run a special poll to break the tie, through the rest of the week. Get those votes in for Love Actually or Elf (really? None of the classics won?)

To discuss a camera, a healthy dog and a reference to the Holocaust

I'll be giving you the big Weekend/Holiday Update soon, but in the meantime, what kind of sweet presents did you get? I'm showing you some of the results of one of mine, a new Nikon DSLR camera (I'm overcompensating with digital imagery the way some guys overcompensate with large Ford trucks with plastic testicles hanging off the trailer hitch). Included is a shot of Capricorn's cat, whose eyes remind me of Uma Thurman for some reason, and a shot of Capricorn and her chihuahua, Leo, who is giving her more tongue than an overzealous prom date.
I got some other sweet gifts and photos I'll share soon.


Bailey is finally doing (somewhat) better. I had to take him to the vet again on Saturday, and they gave him three more kinds of medications, getting him on par with Amy Winehouse, minus the beehive hair and Motown sound. He's got some kind of back issue, but at least now he's walking around some after spending most of last week hiding under my bed like a canine Anne Frank, minus the Nazi persecution. For his two vet visits last week, he cost me about $50 per pound. He weighs 10 pounds. In related news, I'm wondering if goldfish would be a more economical option, if not somewhat less easy to cuddle with at night.

So, tell me all about your present giving and getting, while I recover from the past few days.
And, for the love of sports, please check out the Top 10 (Plus 2) list Joshlos and I put together for Christmas Eve, as I know many of you are behind on blogging.

To discuss a Merry Christmas

Short, simple and to the point: Merry Christmas, everyone.

To discuss a Wild Bloggy Blog: We've Got Major Game in the Rookie Waterboy Mighty Blue Stick Sandlot League

Did you think my Top Christmas movies poll would be the most significant tome of movie reviews ever assembled? (Man, I hope not, or you set the bar low.) Well, feast your Festivus eyes on this:
The hilarious, witty and altogether manly Joshlos of It's a Bloggy Blog World has teamed up with me for what can only be described using an epic-ly long blog title.
We've assembled the Top 10 (Plus 2) Sports Movies of Our Generation-- our generation being that of 20-something dudes, so don't get mad that Bull Durham and Field of Dreams didn't make the cut. We were still sucking thumbs and eating crayons back then (and some yesterday, but I stopped after I heard magenta is high in cholesterol). This is a list we hope sparks controversy and a few forest fires.
We also freely acknowledge that most of our readers are women, so we hope you ladies have seen at least a few of these. And if you are a dude reading this, can you please come out of the woodwork? It's not often I have a guy-themed blog post. I write about America's Next Top Model, for God's sake. Luckily, Josh is adding some man fuel (yeah, that didn't sound right) to Wild ARS Chase.
The first half, plus my bonus pick, is here. The second half, plus his bonus pick, is now posted. Merry Christmas...
(Joshlos is in italics, I'm in bold. The picks are in random order)
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A League Of Their Own: Joshlos: True story: for a U.S. History class in college, one of my friends and I got permission to watch this movie and write a paper about it instead of movies like Glory, Saving Private Ryan, and the other suggested items.
I'll take Tom Hanks nailing a kid in the face with a baseball glove over realistic, historical war violence any day. But not over cartoonish, over-the-top, non-historical action movie violence. The Terminator wasn't on our list, though, and I don't think I could've sold that to the prof. The movie wasn't so bad, though, even if it did exceed Hollywood's sappiness requirements. Then again, it was essentially The Sisterhood Of The Traveling Stirrups.
ARS: This is a must-see. Madonna, before she went all Kabbalah. Rosie O'Donnell, before she went all View arch nemesis. Lori Petty, before she went all Tank Girl. I think it's a bona fide good movie, with classic lines like "There's no crying in baseball."


Mighty Ducks: ARS: Only the first one. None of this knuckle-puck nonsense. This is about Emilio Estevez regaining his glory by taking down his old coach, Jack Reilly of the Hawks, with a bunch of ragtag players and one fine performance from the guy from Dawson's Creek. This movie is so good, it spawned an actual NHL franchise (No, seriously, it did).
Joshlos: "Are we Ducks or what?" I remember that from my ol' skool church youth group days from a lock-in one time. Apparently some of group watched that at one point overnight and were so loopy from lack of sleep that they kept saying it over and over again until the next morning.
Some decided to keep the saying going for weeks afterward, thereby sorta making me resent the movie, which I'd previously loved before the lock-in. Aside from Major League, it's still probably my favorite "ragtag team comes together and succeeds" movie. As a kid, though, I always thought it was odd that Emilio Estevez wore such small skates. It wasn't until later that I learned all male Hollywood actors are only 5' 4".
ARS: Oh, you watched Disney movies during church lock-ins? I made out with girls. Coincidentally, I'm also going to hell.

Blue Chips: Joshlos: I don't like this movie for how good it is. Rather, I like this movie for how awful it is. Terrible acting from all but maybe two actors in the movie --- and they were only supporting roles. Nick Nolte misses the mark --- even if he did have a fun, "Bulworth"-like honesty breakdown at the end. Shaq, although entertaining in a few scenes, wasn't good. And Anfernee Hardaway may have turned in the worst acting job ever. He should get an award for how awful he was. One redeeming quality: the character names were classic, all the way from the minor characters --- Slick, Happy, Tony, Freddie, Jack --- to the major ones: Coach Pete Bell, Ricky Roe, Butch McRae, and, of course, Neon Bodeaux.
ARS: I am so glad you included this movie. Neon! Oh, what a name. Yes, Penny was a terrible actor. Shaq could barely mumble his sentences. And there was even a token white guy basketball player. It's everything you don't want in a basketball movie, which makes it all the more worthwhile to watch.

Stick It: Joshlos: I hate gymnastics. As a result, I wasn't talking about it this past Olympic season, and thus, also not fortunate enough to gain readers who were googling "Alicia Sacramone crotch shot." However, this movie's awesome. Well, the diner scene dialogue was a little clunky, but other than that, it's pretty hilarious. I'd have definitely watched the Olympics this year if all the opposing gymnasts would've gotten together ahead of time to decide which of them would actually compete in a given event, just to stick it* to the judges and their wack judging. Especially if it resulted a hip hop balance beam routine. Oh, and Missy Peregrym is hot.
ARS: Yes, you really missed out on the Sacramone action during the Olympics. Almost all of my visitors were searching for her girl parts. So... I did gymnastics for years as a kid. I'll admit that. But I can't say I've seen Stick It. Missy Peregrym is hot, I'll give you that; plus, it has the hot hostess from "Waiting."... But a hip hop balance beam routine? Is this like Save the Last Gymnast? I'll spot you this one, and put it on my list of things to watch, right between "Godfather Part II" and "Raging Bull."

The Sandlot: ARS: Wendy Freakin Peffercorn. And baseball. And George Herman Ruth. And fireworks. And James Earl Jones. And "You're killing me Smalls."
Joshlos: All I'm sayin' is that if I had a baseball autographed by Babe Ruth, and I had kids in the house, that bad boy would be locked up where the kids couldn't get to it. But a solid choice... I think a lot of guys can remember back to when they were that age and played neighborhood baseball, even if they didn't have a true sandlot. The movie captures a lot of that experience, right down to the part about losing baseballs in yards with dogs.


Wildcard:
Hardball: ARS: Keanu Reeves' finest acting performance. I only say that with a hint of sarcasm. Keanu plays a dude with a gambling problem who is forced to coach a team of misfit black kids (I'm beginning to send that the only way misfit kids get coached is if a white guy develops a drinking problem or gets arrested for banging a hooker). A little kid gets shot and dies-- DIES!-- in this movie (spoiler much?), and they play my all-time favorite rap song, "Big Poppa" over and over. It's heartwarming, and Diane Lane's fine cougar self is in it.

To discuss a breakdown of holiday classics and a dead John Ritter reference

As mentioned, the new poll is up. You've made (or are making) your selections for your favorite holiday movie. But perhaps you're on the fence and need a gentle push.
Let me be of assistance:

• White Christmas: If you don't enjoy the music from this Bing Crosby classic, you probably hate kittens. My favorite song from this movie, actually, is "The Best Things Happen While Your Dancing."... I watched this movie on VHS as a kid at my grandparents house, all year long... because they didn't have cable and the only other option was "What About Bob," and you can only watch that movie so many times before thinking, "What About Me?!?!"
  
• It's a Wonderful Life: The "angel gets its wings part" is crap-- angels get their wings by drinking Red Bull-- but it's hard to resist this small town tale of George Bailey pleading with God for a government bailout of his banking crisis, only to find out he's 73 years and a Bush administration too early.
• A Christmas Story: My mom refuses to watch this movie because she thinks Ralphie actually gets his eye shot out... which would be AWESOME. Also, I love the pink bunny outfit and the terrifying Santa. And, if any of you are still searching for a gift for me, please buy me a leg lamp. With the rest of Natalie Portman attached.
  
• Muppet Christmas Carol: Michael Caine delivers here, plain and simple. And the Penguin Christmas Skating Party? Are you kidding me? Do the good times ever stop?
• National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation: Not a month goes by without my family quoting this Chevy Chase movie. It made me want to enroll in the Jelly of the Month club. And buy my own backyard swimming pool. And visit a mall to have a girl named Mary explain to me why there is a lingerie kiosk in the middle of the mall.
  
• Just Friends: Ryan Reynolds sings "I Swear" in a fat suit. Anna Faris does her "If Britney had gone just a little more overboard and done more blow, here's how she would have acted if her manager forced her to spend Christmas in New Jersey." And the chick from "Airplane" is the mom.
• The Santa Clause: This would be the perfect Christmas movie if it wasn't for that annoying kid. I wanted to punch him in his groin the entire movie for his precocious acting, but that's against child welfare laws. He'll get his. Oh, he'll get his.
• The Family Stone: Family dysfunction, intertwining relationships, Claire Danes being hot, Diane Keaton with her amazing "This is my Diane Keaton acting class, watch out younger acting bitches, I was in that famous Woody Allen film" acting, Sarah Jessica Parker not being totally annoying, and Claire Danes being hot in a movie with Rachel McAdams being hot. Not that either is hotter than Capricorn, mind you.* She's hotter. And she never kissed Jared Leto.
  
• Elf: For the "Baby It's Cold Outside" scene.
• Bad Santa: Dead John Ritter: "Did one of you, um, fornicate?" Drunk Billy Bob Thornton: "Fornicate?" Ritter: "Yes, with a heavy-set woman in the big and tall dressing room." Thornton: "Look, I’ve boned a lot of fat chicks in my time sure, but uh, as far as I’ve recalled I’ve never fornicated anybody."
• Love Actually: In the early going, this movie is taking the lead in the poll. Who knew it had such strong holiday pull? It does have that British charm to it, though. And I do love intertwining stories. Eh, why not? Love Actually, you're a modern holiday classic.
  
• Die Hard: Not your typical holiday fare, but it is set during Christmas, and Carl Winslow is in it, and there's lots of bad German accents and Bruce Willis kicking ass and taking names. Ashton Kutcher must have loved this movie when he was a kid. "Hey, one day I'm going to be the step-dad to this guy's kids. And bang his ex-wife."
  
• Miracle on 34th Street: I'm including this because it's a classic, not necessarily because I agree with its inclusion. How the Grinch Stole Christmas could have just as easily taken this spot, but the Jim Carrey remake left a sour taste in my mouth about all things Grinch. It tastes like Roast Beast.
  

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If you like movie posts, I've got a special co-post with Joshlos in the works that will be our holiday gift to you. What's that you hear? It's a heavenly host of angels pre-gaming.
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* It's our three-month anniversary today. She's tolerated me for three whole months. One of these days, she'll catch on that underneath my amazing physique and stunning good looks, I'm really just a geek who blogs about his dog and his fetish with 90's pop culture. Until then, I intend to make out with her as much as possible. And tell her "I love you" every day.**
** If you could all do me a favor, don't tell her I want a Natalie Portman leg lamp. That will be our Santa Secret, OK?

To discuss a reader poll full of Christmas spirit and Hollywood glamour

Raise your hand if you're working every weekday but Christmas this week.
(Anyone? Anyone? Just myself and a few other saps? Thought so.)

Anyway, I appreciated all the responses for my latest poll, "When do you normally put up your holiday decorations?" Evidently, a majority of you had lights blazing at the start of December. A small percentage of you are blithely unaware Christmas is this Thursday and are wondering why the neighbors are complaining about your rotting jack-o-lantern. And six of you are drunks.

Here are the officials results of the last poll, for you Google readers:
Before Thanksgiving, because I'm an overachiever: 10 (15%)
The start of December, so as not to appear too Scrooge-ish: 26 (41%)
Just before Santa arrives with gift cards for Best Buy/Victoria's Secret/Gynecologist: 5 (7%)
Decorations? You're lucky I buy gifts:11 (17%)
I still have Halloween pumpkins rotting outside: 5 (7%)
If by "decorate" you mean drink away my holiday sorrows, then I answer "October": 6 (9%)

For the new poll, lasting only through Christmas Day (Happy Hannukah to my Jewish friends, but you already know that this is a Christmas world), the focus is on your favorite Christmas movie. The options will be extensive.
I'll debate the merits of each option soon, but I wanted to get the poll up in the meantime. No complaining about what's left off, especially if it's a CBS holiday special (If one of you says "The Christmas Shoes" movie should be on there, I will burn your house down like I'm Lisa "Left Eye" Lopez. I swear to almighty God.)
This will require you to actually visit my site, Google readers. Consider it your holiday gift to me. That, and a $100 check made out to "Andy Shaw."

Merry Christmas!

Update: I had to re-post the poll to allow multiple selections. Feel free to vote again. I tried to set all the vote tallies as they were before I took the poll down.

To discuss a cry of pain not heard since the scalping scene in Dances With Wolves

Have you ever murdered a puppy with your bare hands? How about slapped a kitten? Have you ever thrown a mouse through a garbage disposal?

If you have*, then you know the sound my dog made Saturday night.

Something is wrong with Bailey. Capricorn and I were hanging out Saturday night, watching my Tivo recording of the new Muppet Christmas special (excellent). Capricorn bumped Bailey in the back leg...

And in a sound not heard since "When Sharks Attack" on Discovery Channel's "Shark Week," Bailey let out a squelch that sent a chill through our bones. I've accidentally stepped on his tail before, and he's let out a yelp. This was different.

When I went out to bed that night, with Bailey under the covers as always, I thought everything was fine. I bumped into him at one point, and there it was again. "Yeoowwwlooungatabingbang!" There were no bumps on him, no thorns, no marks, nothing. He moved a bit, and was fine, back asleep. Every hour, for the next four hours, he would let out a battle cry that made Braveheart run in fear. At 4 a.m., completely rattled and sure Bailey had contracted some rare disease not seen since the Oregon Trail days, I took him to another room and put him in his crate for the rest of the night so as not to nudge him.

I spent 4-4:02 a.m. researching "Dog screams when I touch his rear."
After getting strange bestiality** search responses, I changed it to, "Dog yelps in pain when touched."
Evidently, he likely hurt his hip or pulled a muscle. If I don't let him jump on anything/climb any stairs for a few days, he should be fine, according to several reputable web sites/Yahoo user responses.

All Sunday morning and afternoon, Bailey didn't yelp. He peed fine, he ran fine, he sniffed the crotch of Capricorn's dog, Leo, fine. But, right before Capricorn left, Bailey lept on the couch.
"OhhhHHHKELLYCLARKSON!"

We're back to bed rest for that little dude.

This must be how parents feel when their child is sick. I wonder if my mom ever accidentally stumbled on bestiality photos when researching for my aches and pains...
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* P.S. You're going to hell.
** Did you know that bestiality is spelled without the "a" in beast? Who knew? Well, beside dirty pervs.

To discuss Fake Andy Shaw of the Month: This Andy has boobs

Usually, my fake Andy Shaw of the month is another dude out there with the same name and, likely, a more interesting life. So far, I've been a skater, a groom and a singer in a band. And Michael Phelps.
But for December, I'm changing things up a bit.
A few weeks ago, I believe on Ben's blog, I noticed another Andy had already commented on one of his hilarious posts. What's more, this Andy has boobs*, which is to say, she's not a he. So, as to avoid further confusion in case both Female Andy and Male Andy comment on your blog, I'd like to introduce you to the female version of me.
A short background, provided by Andrea, of Life Isn't So Terrible After All:
My hometown, I bet 99% of Americans doesn't even know it exists.(ARS: Delaware?) I live in a little country named "El Salvador", in Central America. (ARS: My knowledge of Central America is limited to my freshman geography class and movies involving drug trafficking). I don't live in the capital itself, but in the suburbs. But, since the country is TINY, everything is near. (Kind of like Connecticut, where you're within two hours from everything, including NYC and someone with a popped collar). I personally love everything about it (except the politics and the violence).
I'm 18* and I'm in senior year of a Lycée Francais. Yes, I've studied in that school every since I was 4 and it's quite hard to stand all the (stinky) French teachers I've had during this 15 years. Damn French people who don't shower. (ARS: So, it's true!) In spite of this, by next fall, I hope to be freezing my cute Latin butt in France, while studying engineering in Lyon. (You want to move from a tropical climate to France? On purpose?)

* See, I can talk about her having boobs because she's 18. If she was 17, I'd have to make a much more PG joke about her wearing make-up or something... But s she's Girls Gone Wild age. All's fair.
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On to the questions, all Andy-themed:

1) Who are you named after?
I'm not named after someone in particular. In fact, the many times I've asked my parents why they chose to call me "Andrea", they always tell me that it was my grandmother who suggested it and they liked it, so, that's where my name comes from. A few years ago, I discovered my grandma's birthday is on November the 30th, which is the day of St. Andrew and St. Andrea. Therefore, my guesses are that that has something to do with it.
ARS: I was named after the disciple, Andrew. It would be sexually awkward if you were named after the disciple, too.

2) Who is your favorite famous Andy?
Well, there'd be a fight between Andy Roddick and Andy Warhol. Andy Roddick is jut simply hot and... hot. Andy Warhol is just plain awesome. I have a hard time deciding.
Mine is Andy on The Office, even though that's a character name... Andy Warhol is from Pittsburgh, where I'm from. Unlike me, he has a museum. Unlike him, I have never urinated on a painting.

3) How often have you been confused for a boy when someone calls you Andy?
All the freaking time. Andy is usually the nickname for Andrew's. My best friend is also called Andrea, but her nickname is written Andie. I guess that makes more sense. Anyway, Andrea is a name for guys in Italy, so there's ALWAYS confusion. Oh, and let's not even get to the part where people make typing errors, and since the "a" is next to the "s" in keyboards, my name is often written "Andres", which is the male for "Andrea" in Spanish. *sigh*
And, if you want to make matters worse, my middle name is "Renée"... which people often write "René", like a guy. *sigh* It's complicated.
I never knew "Andrea" would be so difficult to get right. I can only imagine how they will butcher it in France.

4) What first name would you like if it wasn't Andrea/Andy?
Well, I DO like my middle name, "Renée". It is "reborn" in French. I've always believed in reincarnation, so I actually like my middle name. IF written properly.
Which, of course, won't happen, Runee. I mean Renea. I mean Renerea.

5) Would you consider legally switching your last name to "Shaw" to pretend to be me for a month?
Mmmmm... Well, Shaw is a far easier last name than my current one. So, I'd probably go to all those places where I've gotten "WHAT?" looks and when they ask me "What's your name?" I'll just say "Andrea Shaw. You DO know how that is spelled, right?"... I'm such a loser.
Sorry, I just double-checked. There already is an Andrea Shaw. She's a life coach... We should call her.

To discuss a few letters to improve quality control

Dear Burger King employees,
When your former campaign slogan is "Have It Your Way," I expect to, um, Have It My Way. I'm not asking for much when I patronize one of your restaurants, and I already feel guilty about going there (I watched "Supersize Me"). So the least you can do, BK, is not mess up my order. Twice.
I eat cheeseburgers plain. Yes, plain. No mustard, no ketchup, no pickles, no onions. Meat. Cheese. Bun. Bam. So, if my double cheeseburger gets all that extra stuff on it, I just can't eat it.
When I ordered such a burger last night via drive thru, I was disappointed to find that, although the receipt said plain, the top of the burger looked like an Andy Warhol condiment painting. Better yet, it was with the wrong bun- some sort of Whopper bun.
Because I was jonesing for a burger like an addict at the methadone clinic, I decided to take my chances and return it. On the second attempt, you got the plain right. But you used an entirely different type of bun, and burger patties that were likely destined for a Whopper and not my small-by-comparison double cheeseburger.
I know you get paid crappy wages, and that your employer thinks it's smart to offer its own fragrance, but can you just do me a solid and take an extra second next time? I'd greatly appreciate it.

Flame-broiled for you,
Andy

Dear Animal Cracker manufacturer,
I must admit, I love your product. Not the iced kind. The plain kind. It's low fat, so I don't feel guilty snacking on them throughout the day (which makes me feel less guilty about going to BK). Sure, there's not a lot of taste, but, like Robin Williams in "Hook," I just imagine what it could taste like.
But I have yet to understand your animal rotation. Sure, you've got the good ones: Lions, horses, hippos, etc. And yet you've got llamas and buffalo in there. WTF, Animal Cracker dudes? Who made that executive decision? Llamas are the black sheep of farm animals, and white people shot most buffalo when they killed all the Indians.
Couldn't you choose cooler animals, like sharks, tarantulas, hawks or chihuahuas? (sorry, I'm biased) Just a thought.

Crackin' up for you,
Andy

Dear Andy,
Nice job not getting any holiday cards out this year. You continue to be a worse and worse friend with each passing year. At this rate, your friends will begin to "accidentally" lose your address when December approaches. You're about two years away from having three ghosts haunt your dreams and make you sing about a Christmas goose.

Bah humbug,
Ebenezer

To discuss a TV Play by Play: Real Housewives of Orange County

It's been awhile since I last did a TV Play-by-Play. The end of the America's Next Top Model season contributed to that, and I didn't see many shows that would work (although I'll take suggestions). I will likely be doing them on American Idol, but that's a month away. So, to satiate my reality appetite, I picked this week's episode of the Real Housewives of Orange County. For a show synopsis and cast list, go here.

:03 Gretchen is holding a girls-only burlesque party. Included items: A riding crop, pasties and various items that would make you blush in front of your priest. Gretchen, wearing a peacock outfit, practices a burlesque dance. She says she wants to perform it for her 56-year-old fiance with leukemia, Jeff, "to lift his spirits." Or, you know, to give him a heart attack and kill him.
:07 Vicki, who is a workaholic and constantly tells her husband she doesn't want to be around him, is trying to convince that same husband they should buy a yacht. The yacht has more square footage than my apartment. It also has a washer and dryer on it. My apartment doesn't have that on it, either. But, of course, money isn't what really matters*. To buy the yacht, though, they have to sell their vacation home they've had for years.
:09 Vicki's daughter is in tears because she loves the vacation home. Vicki's husband loves it, too. But, since Vicki doesn't care what they think, she overrules them. See you later, lifelong memories.
:15 Gretchen and the new housewife, Lynne, go clothes shopping. Gretchen complains her boobs aren't large enough, even though they are big enough to breastfeed a village of infants. The cashier tells Lynne her total bill is $12.39. Oh wait, she said $1,239.15. I'm not used to a retail store cashier using six digits.
:18 What did these moms look like before all the plastic surgery? Maybe they were dudes.
:20 Tamra's husband is at the shooting range. There is a sign that says "No gangsta style shooting." The funny thing is, without a visual, you still know what that means.
:23 Gretchen says Jeff is 23 years older than her... and just 4 years younger than her dad. Which means Jeff and her dad could have had the following conversation while they were attending rival high schools: Jeff: "Hey, Gretchen's future dad. Nice game of hoops today. You're great on offense. I couldn't stop you from scoring." Dad: "Yeah, and in about two decades, you're going to score with my daughter. So let's call it even." Jeff: "Sounds good."
:30 Lynne's daughter reveals her secrets to getting over a hangover (it involves a cold shower). Oh, and her daughter is 17. Just in case that's relevant.
:44 Now that Lauri left, only Vicki and Jeana remain from the original cast. There's more turnover on this show than on "E.R." And all they have to do is talk about clothes, cars and their ex-husbands. Maybe there should be a new spin-off, "The Real Bloggers of the the Internet," and all of us can be on it. Sounds good? No pasties, though. It's a family show.
:53 It's funny how Bravo forces these on-screen friendships. Bravo finds a new housewife, and the other women just pretend they happen to have made a new friend... who they harass incessantly behind their backs. It's like high school, but with plastic boobs and $500 haircuts.
:56 Tamra, Jeana and Vicki go out for a girl's lunch. Tamra calls Gretchen to see how Jeff is doing (not well- he has pneumonia, on top of leukemia.) Vicki, ever-compassionate, rolls her eyes as Gretchen talks. She's right, too. How could Gretchen be so insensitive to talk about her dying fiance? Geez.
:59 Coming up next week, all the girls go on vacation, drink heavily, grope each other and get in catfights. Maybe they should rename this Housewives Gone Wild.
------------------
* Unless we're talking about buying stuff. Then money matters. You can't buy stuff with hopes and dreams.

To discuss how my mom has already locked up Top Mom honors, one door at a time

Let's face the facts.

My mom is better than your mom.

Not in loving you, not in being there for you, not in telling you it'll be fine after you fake eloped in Mexico with some d-bag with a flesh-colored beard.(Spencer continues to be the worst person on the planet. Strict Shenaniganist agrees).

Yeah, my mom doesn't know you, so she couldn't possibly be better than your mom at those things.

But there's no way your mom would do this for you:

That's right. An entire holiday door decoration, made from scratch. I mentioned to my mom during her Thanksgiving visit that there's a holiday door decorating contest at my apartment complex. Without another word from me, she said, "OK, so what are we going to do?" That very night, we got fabric and she started to assemble this masterpiece, all from the inspiration of this caroler:

If you look closely, you can see that she used a photo of my face for the carolers face.

I don't see Carol Brady pulling that off. Or Vivian Banks. Or Ellen Griswold. Even Capricorn's mom, who folded my manpants and constantly offers me food, wouldn't dare attempt this.
It's a fact. My mom has already sewn up (get it?) the Mom of the Year award.

Now all I have to do is buy her a Christmas present.

To discuss a late Weekend Update involving underwear and the ghost of Christmas I Just Peed Myself

My potential mother-in-law folded my underwear.

But first, a Christmas story.

Capricorn's parents took the two of us out for dinner and a show on Friday night. The show came first. It was a local theater production of A Christmas Carol, Charles Dicken's classic tale of Kermit and Miss Piggy trying to persevere against the wicked Michael Caine (right?)

This was an original adaptation, so no singing, no modern take, no Muppets, nothing. Old school. And that's cool- I like seeing a theater production stick with a classic. And they did a wonderful job. Except for one little fact

A Christmas Carol is not a family show. It is a horror show.

I don't ever recall Charles Dickens making me soil myself before, but the opening few scenes were like Quarantine all over again. Lots of creepy lighting, people chanting, Jacob Marley shouting, and the cold London streets eerily glowing. If I was a child, I would've been crying. Since I'm a grown man, I merely whimpered.
Fortunately, we went to Olive Garden afterward and I forgot my troubles after the fourth breadstick.

Back to underwear.
I don't have a washer/dryer in my apartment, so I have to walk it across the lot to the laundry facility on our complex, and it costs about $3.00 in quarters per wash and dry. I had a ton of laundry to do Saturday, so Capricorn was kind enough to let me bring my stuff over to her house so I could do it while I hung out there. I got most of it done, but then we had to go to my office Christmas party (we were the only ones not drinking... probably a good thing), so there was a load left.
That load had assorted items.
So we spent Saturday night at my house and returned to hers after a rousing Steelers victory Sunday afternoon. I was going to throw the last load in the dryer, but Capricorn's mother was nice enough to have already done that. She even folded the clothes.
Including my underwear.
As she told Capricorn later, Capricorn-in-law was worried I'd be upset that she touched my manpants. Quite the contrary- I'm all for someone volunteering to do my laundry. She was especially tickled to see my red boxers with little dogs on them.

But, here's the truth amongst this: Capricorn's mom has folded my underwear. I don't think you're allowed to break up after that. I think the never-break-up scale is something like:
1) Get her pregnant
2) Go through a traumatic experience together
3) Have her mom fold your underwear

To discuss how nobody's dead mother needs Jimmy Choos

I love Christmas songs. I do. I could go on and on about "Peace on Earth" with Ziggy Stardust and Bing Crosby, or "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" with Dorothy...

Some of the kitschy songs about animated wildlife can get on my nerves, but I can understand why children like them (Wal-mart and McDonalds told them to). But there's one song I can't stand.

The Christmas Shoes song.

It is horrible. If you like that song, I'm sorry to tell you that is sucks, because it does (unless there's a sentimental value, and then that's understandable. You might want to skip this post. Or tell me I'm a terrible Grinch-esque person. Either option would be acceptable).

The entire song is about some kid trying to buy shoes he can't afford before his mom dies... Happy Holidays! Nothing gets those holiday spirits kicking like a kid talking about his near-dead mom. Christmas shoes? That's even worse than a one-year membership to the Jelly of the Month Club.
And did you know this song is based on a movie of the same name?!? If it's not enough of a Christmas downer to sing about it, let's make a feature length film starring Rob Lowe and that daughter from Father of the Bride.

In case you're not convinced, I've taken the liberty of interpreting the lyrics:

It was almost Christmas time,
There I stood in another line
Trying to buy that last gift or two,
Not really in the Christmas mood.
ARS: That's understandable. Christmas shopping can be horrendous, even deadly. But shame on you for waiting until the last second to buy those two gifts. Do you really think you're going to win the wife over with that blender? And let's not even discuss that see-through lacy negligee you bought her. It lights up and has tassels.

Standing right in front of me
Was a little boy waiting anxiously,
Pacing round like little boys do,
ARS: He probably has to pee, dude. Watch out.

And in his hands, he held a pair of shoes.
And his clothes were worn and old.
He was dirty from head to toe,
ARS: Like Pigpen from "Charlie Brown?" Was he animated and thought your voice sounded like "Waah, wa waah waah waah"?

And when it came his time to pay,
I couldnt believe what I heard him say.
ARS: That's called eavesdropping.

Chorus:
Sir, I wanna buy these shoes for my momma please.
It's Christmas Eve and these shoes are just her size.
ARS: If shoe shopping was as easy as a woman just finding the right size, you wouldn't see so many husbands slumped over in chairs while their wives try on an aisle's worth of stilettos. Make sure you pick out ones that don't give her cankles. Perhaps something with an open toe.

Could you hurry, Sir?
Daddy says there's not much time.
You see, she's been sick for quite a while;
Know these shoes will make her smile.
ARS: I appreciate the sentiment, kid. I do. But she'd be just as happy getting one of those plastic rings or gumballs or a pack of pencils or whatever else they sell at your elementary school Secret Santa shop. Let's not go overboard here. You're going to show up all of your friends, who are now going to feel like crap for giving their moms a coloring book and Juicy Fruit.

Want her to look beautiful if Momma meets Jesus tonight.
ARS: Just a point of reference, man- Jesus spent most of His time taking everyone's shoes off and washing them, not putting them on. So, a nice foot bath would do the trick. Or a Bible.

He counted pennies for what seemed like years
Then the cashier said "There's not enough here."
ARS: That's probably because the cashier didn't want to deal with all of those pennies.

He searched his pockets frantically
Then he turned and he looked at me.
ARS: And thought, "I bet you I can convince this schmuck to buy me these shoes, plus some of those awesome shoes with the wheels in them."
He said Momma made Christmas good at our house
Though most years she just did without.
Tell me, Sir, what am I gonna do?
Somehow I've got to buy these Christmas shoes!
ARS: You just know the kid picked out some Manolo Blahniks. It's not even a question.
So I laid the money down;
I just had to help him out.
And Ill never forget the look on his face
When he said Mommas gonna look so great!
ARS: This is so sugary sweet I'm going into a diabetic Christmas coma.

Chorus

I knew that I got a glimpse of heaven's love
As he thanked me and ran out.
ARS: (With my wallet)
I knew that God had sent that little boy to remind me
What Christmas is all about.
ARS: Yes, because God, the compassionate, loving God, decided that to make a point, He'd give this kid's mom a terrible disease to teach some guy about the meaning of Christmas. I'm pretty sure God could've just showed him "It's a Wonderful Life" and called it a day.

Chorus in childrens voices
ARS: Oh, good. Children singing. As if this wasn't already a tear-jerker, let's get little kids singing about their mommies.
Young boy:
I want her to look beautiful
If Momma meets Jesus tonight.
ARS: Now, who's ready to open presents?

To discuss store sightings, from placentas to Paris

I've embarrassed Capricorn a time or two since we started dating by taking camera phone photos at various places for my blog. I told her it comes with the territory. There's comedy gold to be had... even in a hair and beauty supply store.

As Capricorn perused the fake eyelashes, I perused the aisles. I got asked four times by sales clerks if I needed help. They must've thought I was lost. But look what I found:

To discuss things I have left jilted at the altar of life

Have you ever hit the wall?

No, not that one time with your parents' car.

I mean metaphorically. I'm having one of those experiences this week. I've hit an Internet wall, just as many of you have. Through a series of busy nights, hectic days, travel-filled weekends and dodging overzealous holiday shoppers like Mario bouncing around Bowser, I haven't had much time to do any blogging this week. Read them, write them, laugh at them, light them on fire, whatever.
I feel weird for feeling ashamed at this, like not putting spare change in the Salvation Army kettle when the dude is ringing the bell with vigor in your direction. There's no obligation, but you feel like you're spitting on baby Jesus if you don't at least throw a Sacagawea dollar in or something.
Because I have so much fun writing for this blog and reading your comments in which you question my sexuality, sanity and ability to use proper grammar, I'll get over the proverbial hump on this, probably by early next week.
That's a welcome change from my past behavior. I am normally the king of "get passionate about something for a couple months and then quit abruptly." I have hobby ADD.
Here's a (UPDATED!) list of things in my life I have, at some point, taken an interest in only to suddenly and inexplicably abandon after a short time like Julie Roberts' fiances in "Runaway Bride":

• Golf
• Playing the piano
• Gymnastics
• Drawing
• Richard Gere (No, wait, that was just Julia)
• Poetry
• Exercising
• Eating healthy
• Politics
• The National Hockey League
• The Bible
• The Bible again, after getting tired of reading about begatting in Numbers and Deuteronomy
  
• The Bible a third time, but only the New Testament after Romans left me feeling like I've sinned in every way possible
• Car maintenance
• Learning Spanish
• Going to graduate school
• Feeling guilt at eating an entire container of Keebler ELF Fudge cookies
• Celebrating the real meaning behind Christmas
• Celebrating the real meaning behind Easter
• Cycling
• Crystal meth (No, wait. That was Crystal Light iced tea.)
  
• Running
• Staying in touch with people
  
• Writing music
• Budgeting
• Updated:
• Reading Les Miserables
• Reading, period
• Recycling more
• Yoga
• MySpace
• AIM
  

What about you?

I'll try to be better next week. I really will.

To discuss naming your offspring based on a TV show

Theo. Denise. Vanessa. Rudy. Sondra.

Would you want your kids named after characters in "The Cosby Show?" Capricorn said she would. Capricorn loooooves the Cosby Show, while I mostly enjoy Cosby's pudding pops and technicolor sweaters. But now she has announced she would want her children named after the characters. Perhaps she's kidding. Perhaps she's not.

But there's a larger question here. If you were to name your kids after child characters on one TV show, which would it be?

Some options:
Mark, Randy and Brad on "Home Improvement"
Lisa, Bart and Maggie, " The Simpsons"
D.J., Stephanie and Michelle (and Kimmy Gibbler?), "Full House"
J.T., Dana, Karen, Al, Mark and Brendan, "Step by Step"
Eddie, Laura, Steve, Richie, Judy (but only for a short time before she disappeared for no reason), "Family Matters"
Chris, Stewie and Meg, "Family Guy"
D.J., Darlene, Becky, "Roseanne"
L.C., Audrina, Hei... oh, nevermind

I think characters on "Doug" would be sweet: Doug, Skeeter, Patty, Roger... or maybe "Pete and Pete"-- there's Pete, and then there's that other one... Pete.

OK, maybe not. If I had to, I'd choose "Seventh Heaven"-- Matt, Mary, Lucy, Simon, Ruthie, Sam, David.... I'll admit this now: During the TV writer's strike last year, when nothing new was on, I got addicted to Seventh Heaven. Actually, I got my roommate addicted, too. I ended up watching just about every episode of the later seasons, up to the last episode. I almost got teary eyed.... Let's not talk about it...

Instead, which show would you choose?

To discuss a Meme story

You guys are all meme crazy. There was more tagging going on yesterday than on a school playground or on a New York City bridge (that means graffiti, for those not in the know).

Couple that with the fact that I am seriously behind on blog reading since last Thursday, before my weekend trip, and you have an overwhelmed blogger. Oh, that and work has been crazy so I can't even read up on your stuff at lunch.

But, as I don't like to disappoint, I'm at least going to do one of these suckers. Since Southern Belle threatened to throw a temper tantrum, I thought I'd oblige. As she mentions, this meme is fairly simple: One person starts a story, then another one continues and so on, until the story makes no sense at all...Here are the instructions.

*****

The bus was more crowded than usual. It was bitterly cold outside, and I hadn't prepared for it. I noticed that a fair number of the riders were dressed curiously. As I glanced around, I stretched my feet and kicked up against a large, heavy cardboard box laying under the seat in front of me. (Splotchy)

I hunched down to see what it was, but as I did, the bus violently veered to left. I was thrown up against a heavyset Asian woman with blond hair. I pardoned myself, but she faced forward with no reply. Just then, a man wearing a jumpsuit of silver and gold stood up at the front of the bus. He was holding a megaphone and a box of graham crackers. He held the megaphone up to his face and began to speak... (Some Guy)

"Ladies and Gentlemen...please do not be afraid! I am here to help you" he said in a mighty booming voice. As he began to step towards me I felt a hand creep its way around my throat and all of a sudden I was pressed against the mighty bosom of the Asian woman as she she hauled me to my feet. She began to back away from the costumed crusader all the while holding me, feet dangling in the air. I panicked and my eyes searched the bus, hoping to connect with someone, anyone who would be able to help me. My eyes met those of the hero in gold and just as I began to gasp for air he yelled...(~E)

„Put her down and no one gets hurt“, he yelled at the Asian woman. All the passengers turned to see what was going on and, as they did, I noticed they were more panicked than I was. A small bespectacled man closest to us hissed at my captor and said in a low voice „Take me, just don't hurt her.“ My fear gave way to curiosity. Who were all these people, and why were they so concerned for my well being?
The Asian blonde's back was now pressed against the back of the bus, and she increased her grip on me as the megaphone man crept slowly towards us. As he passed through the bus people started getting up, and now they formed a small army behind him. He raised the box of graham crackers above his head and put his lips to the megaphone... (That Damn Expat)

"Put DOWN the foreigner and step AWAY from the box!" the hero's voice boomed through the megaphone. The Asian Valkyrie responded by drawing me further into her bosom, and the rest of Golden Boy's speech was muffled as her cleavage nestled around my head and settled on my shoulders. I drew the first tiny shred of comfort since the beginning of this crazy day from the fact that at least my ears were now shielded from the bitter cold.
This didn't console me for long as a slight movement down by the floor caught my eye. I glanced down at the box I had kicked before and noticed it was moving by itself... (SouthernBelle)

The Asian Valkyrie had wrapped up her cat as a Christmas present. In a move straight out of National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, AV had accidentally wrapped the poor feline inside a box and had planned to give it to her nephew, who was the Asian dude on Fast and the Furious with the sweet car. But this wasn't just any feline. No, the silver-and-gold jumpsuit man, who was actually an undercover cop, wanted the package because the cat was actually the world's first ever...(Wild ARS)

OK, tag you're it. Instead of tagging people who have been tagged more times than Paris Hilton on a sloppy Saturday night (that's a sexual reference), how about this- if you never do meme's, this is a great time to start. Let me know if you do it (the meme, not Paris).

To discuss a Weekend Update: The Real News of Atlanta

I did not see any Real Housewives in Atlanta.

Let me make that point first, as I'm sure you were wondering that more than anything else. I did not see NeNe, and I definitely did not see Kim, as I'm sure I would've heard her singing a mile away and confused it for goat rape.

Atlanta did hold up its end of the bargain. I was entertained by the city, and even more so by the people who attended a weekend journalism seminar with me near Georgia Tech. We talked about higher education, analyzed financial aid trends, discussed politics and drank shots of Italian liquor while hearing about an orgy with a cougar.

But before I get ahead of myself, a few random Weekend Update selections:
* Yes, Capricorn and I told each other "I love you" for the first time last week. I got nervous and basically blurted it out after wanting to say it for weeks. It was akin to romantic Tourettes. Fortunately, she thought it was cute.

* After deciding to carry my second bag on the plane to avoid baggage claim, I got in line for the security check. I frantically rifled through the bag to toss out any fluids larger than the guidelines. Out went some shaving cream, a bottle of water and a biological weapon (it was over 6 ounces.) At the same time, I was unzipping the other bag and getting my laptop out so it could be put in its own bin through the X-ray machine. At the same time, I was taking off my belt and my shoes so I could pass through the metal detector. The people behind me likely thought I was having a seizure, but I was just trying to live up to FAA guidelines.

* I had a direct flight from Baltimore to Atlanta, which left at 6 a.m. Everyone on the flight was asleep for that hour and a half trip. That is, except for the three Japanese businessmen behind me, who talked loudly and profusely the entire trip about the plane or Toyota or how creepy it was that Izzie had sex with her dead husband's ghost and needs to just move on and see what's in front of her with Karev... or, uh, something.

* I took a tour of the CNN building. An anchorwoman said "Hi" to me as she passed by into the newsroom. I'm assuming she was an anchorwoman because her face was without a blemish, her hair didn't move, her make-up was impeccable and she was in great shape. Other than that, she was ugly.

* I didn't post yesterday, perhaps the first time I haven't posted on a Monday, and the first time I've gone three days without posting, since I started this thing. I'd apologize, but I was crazy tired and out of it. Really, the post would have been something like:
Hey everyone, Atlanta was great, I had so much fun and stayed up so late and am so tired and I'm having trouble forming syllables and my eyes are playing tricks on me and is that a kitten dressed as a pirate and i need sleepandholycrapwhattimeisitdidiforgettowearpants?
A few photos:

This mysterious woman was at the club when my group got there and was still dancing when we left at 2 a.m. She might be 6 foot tall. At first I thought she only liked chicks, as she was suggestively dancing with women and had a certain dominating persona, what with her Amazon woman limbs and bright red lipstick. But then that idea went out the door, because she grabbed me and started doing some kind of salsa/ballroom dance- to a Michael Jackson song. Since I didn't want to end up anyone's bitch, handcuffed to a bed with my wallet stolen and a sock in my mouth, I smiled politely and tried to back off. She then leaned over and asked me,
"Do you like bad girls?"

Yeah, seriously, she did. I said, "Yes?" (Exactly like that- as a question). She soon went on to another dude. (That's a photo of me at the end of the night. I was still shocked.)

The Varsity is supposedly an Atlanta tradition, a restaurant known for its old-fashioned hot dogs and hamburgers. Me, I'd rather go to the Max and watch Ed Alonzo** do magic tricks.

----------------------------------------
* I knew you'd look... While out on Saturday night with two new friends from San Antonio and Boston, we stopped at a trendy-looking bar. The trendy looking male bartender overheard us talking about crazy sexual experiences and offered to give us a free shot of Strega (highly recommended) if we told him a story. Then he offered his own: He took a female bartender to a club, they found a 42-year-old MILF, and she offered to take them back to her hotel room... Soon after he told us this tale, I realized that he likely was hoping to get the three of us in bed as well, as MILFs are a dime a dozen, but RILFs*** are a real notch on the belt.

** I remembered that actor's name without looking it up. Sadly.

*** Reporters I'd Like to ****

**** Have sex with.

To discuss a few short letters about what's "On My Mind"

Dear Atlanta:
I'll be spending the next few days with you while I attend a journalism seminar. If you could please limit your gang violence (Ludacris, make a few calls for me, OK?), I'd appreciate it. I do look forward to some Southern hospitality and slightly warmer weather. I missed T.I.'s epic biopic, A.T.L., so I can only imagine what mysteries you hold.
All I know about you includes watching Braves games on TBS, a Lifetime movie and my few experiences in your airport waiting for my connection flight. Here's hoping for a fun weekend that makes me go all Ray Charles on you.*

Andy

* By that, I mean sing "Georgia On My Mind," not go blind.
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Dear Capricorn:

I love you...

Isn't it nice that we say that now?

Love,
Andy

To discuss Word Verification Mad Libs

I wondered if you all would be up for the challenge of writing word verification definitions. Needless to say, you were. Might I add you are sick and twisted. To thank you for your efforts and to give each of you a little link love, I put nearly all the definitions below except for a few that weren't really definitions and sounded like IKEA furniture...

So, here it is. A Mad Libs edition... I've grouped the definitions into nouns, adjectives, adverbs and verbs (I took my best guess...And if I didn't categorize them right, suck it. Go hug a Webster's dictionary, word nerd. This is for giggles)... I added some extra words as needed, although you can add your own and modify as needed. Yes, it's lengthy, but I was trying to maximize the use of your definitions, many which are directly used... I'd suggest reading the definitions first... Have fun, and feel free to leave samples in the comments or on your own blogs...

America's Next Top Model Mad Lib

Tyra Banks was in trouble. She needed to reinvigorate her show, America's Next Top Model, after a lackluster season kept ratings low.
"What am I going to do?" Tyra whined on her talk show, which she only has because she's a (noun). "I need new ideas, something that will really (verb) people to watch."
Tyra looked everywhere for inspiration. She looked to Miss J and Jay Manuel, but they were too busy (verb) each other. She watched her long-lost film, Higher Learning, remembering she was topless in that movie.
"I was so (adj) back then," Tyra said with a flick of her weave.
Tyra even went to food for help, consulting a (noun), whose great (noun) caused her to gain a few pounds after her modeling career ended (pounds she tried to lose by taking (noun)). After spending hours at his (noun) talking about (noun) and eating (noun), she realized she was wasting her time. Nothing helped.

Then, she had an idea.
"I just need to (verb) this problem head-on. What if I (verb)? No, no that won't work. Wait, that's it! I'll have the first modeling show just for dudes!" Tyra exclaimed, using her crazy voice and not that low-talking (adj) voice she uses when announcing eliminations.
Tyra called all of her friends, from Heidi Klum, who stopped making out with Seal long enough to help, to Janice Dickinson, who (adverb) exited Top Model years ago. Heidi said the idea could work, as long as the judges are (adj) and know the ways of the (noun).
They all agreed that Tyra really needed the help of a (noun), who knew secret spells.
"This is great. My problems are solved!" Tyra said. Exhausted from all that thinking, she decided to take some time off.

Tyra spent the next week neglecting her duties, confident that her Male Modeling show would be a hit on the CW, a network that loves (noun). She even got a little (adj.) and made a secret (noun) with Nigel Barker. He totally (verb) her.
But that was the least of Tyra's problems. When she got back from her vacation, CW executives told her the idea was (adj). The male models don't look good in bikinis like the girls do, the execs said. There's too much (noun).
"I feel like I'm going to (verb)," Tyra said, her face looking like she saw a (noun).
Tyra sulked, and went back to her office. Usually, she is (adj.) about these types of setbacks, but not this time. After months of teasing on Talk Soup on the E! Network, and Wild ARS's witty-but-true comments on her (adj.) reality show, Tyra didn't know if she really wanted to keep doing TV.
Miss J peered into the office, fresh from his afternoon of (verb) with his (her?) friends. Sensing frustration, Miss J (verb) on Tyra's shoulder. They hugged for a bit, and Tyra accepted the sad reality of her reality show.
Through the tears, her voice sounding like she had (noun), Tyra pledged to move on to new things.
Maybe she'll be a (noun).
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Verbs:
Vensubt: (v) A shortening of the word vensubtation, which means to slap a person's chin with ones balls...."I totally vensubted Barbie last night and guess what....she liked it!"
Optional verbs: Filibuster; Mount; Pillage; Smash; Drink; Smoke; Poop; Whack, Give, Hand, Tug, Bump, Bend, Pound, Tape, Push.

Adjectives
Flowli: (adj) To go with the flow, as in "I go-li with the flow-li."
Acked: (adj.) Extremely drunk, leading into a horrifying hangover.
As in: "Oh man, I didn't get home until three on Saturday night, I was completely acked."
Miable: (adj./v.) Something that can be claimed. "That book is miable." Or, a way of laying dibs... "You can't eat that, I already miablated it."
Optional adjectives: Nutty, Sexy, Whorish, Plump, Funny, Moaner, Charmer, Bangable, Loser, Terrible, Lovely, Sucks, Dumb, Trashy

Adverbs
Reapsy: (adv.): An extreme, often caffeine-induced, level of mental and physical discomfort similar to being frazzled..."This venti nonfat nofoam gingersnap latté is making me all reapsy!"
Optional adverbs: Clumsily, Sloppily, Happily, Devishly, Cunningly, Drunkenly, Foolishly, Olsentwinsily

Nouns
Ovedactr: (n) A celebrity chef gone bad, aka Martha Stewart.
Hanti: (n) A poltergeist fixated on ladies' undergarments. From the Southern United States term "haint" and pan-North American "panties". See also: phanthong.
Opreho: (n) A woman who is being pimped out by Oprah.
Stoft: (n) The name of the noise that is made when you sit down in a leather chair and you're meeting your significant other's parents for the first time.
Jawse: (Ja-see) (n) The group of gangbanger sharks that hang around Jaws.
Calval- (n) A pill that contains Valium and also helps with your diet by helping you cut calories.
Rutsome: (n) The appealing nature of the stag to the doe deer..."Faline thought that Bambi was extremely rutsome!"...Used interchangeably with the phrase "Nice Rack!"
Everater (eve-RAY-ter): (n) - Definitely the first woman to ever rate guys on a scale of 1-10.
Werscryo (whar-SKREE-oh): (n) - A chronic throat infection caused by excessive moaning and/or screaming during sexual activity. "Sorry hunny, the doctor said I'll have to skip the dirty talk until my werscryo calms down."
Garicri: (n) A scratchy undergarment wool-like fabric found only in Iceland. Root words "gary" "ice" and "cry"...e.g.: Next time you go skiing, take garicri long johns, they'll keep you toasty.
Fluectoe (n.) pr. flü\EK\tō (floo-ek-tow): Male version of camel toe..."Dude, did you see Scott's fluectoe in those jeans?? It totally looked like he was smuggling biscuits!"
Lacesha: (n) An emotion consisting of disappointment mixed with fear, e.g..."Nadine experienced a wave of lacesha at the realization that her dog had projectile diarrhea."
Hydec: (n) - A wooden structure connected to the back of a house that is too tall to be a patio, yet too close to the ground to be a deck.
Osulater: (n) Slang for Oh See You Later
Worcerer (n.): A slutty sorcerer.
Fedical: (n) The study of fecal matter in a medical setting; also the study of Britney Spears' ex husband.
Scrighti: (n) A pasta dish from the little known Amazonian tribe of Polkadotorius
Andratio: (n) To write "and ratio" when your space bar is broken. E.G. " Maybe next time. We might need a cuter black couple to win. The balance andratio just didn't even out."
Bogindb: (n) A drunk person's bodega.
Tatedes: (n) A hybrid vegetable from potatoes & Swedes.
Optional nouns: Fetus, Dogs, Rudolph, Cosmo, Boobs, Praying Mantis, Bourbon, Paris Hilton, Kitten