Transparent in critical moments, you drop me when your hands aren't full

Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain... Any other post that you may have seen claiming to be from today is irrelevant and inconsequential. Actually, it's just non-sequential. You see, now that I've had time to sleep on it I think it would be more effective to hold it over for a week or two until the heat dies down.
On a related note, if I have to skip town could one of you guys cover at work for me?

So as not to shortchange all the readers that aren't blogsurfing Filipinos or Brazilian shoe fetishists (actual readers I've gotten here, btw) I'll share with you with the thoughts I had while driving around last night:

"Hey, this isn't my house... what the fuck am I doing here?"

To clarify - I wasn't paying attention to where I was going, and drove to an old residence. Not just any residence, mind you, but one I lived at like 7 years ago. SEVEN YEARS AGO. All I can offer by way of explanation is that I was quite tired, and thinking about the goold ole days.

I was also thinking about why the cops haven't arrested the Trix rabbit for hanging around pre-teen kids and harassing them repeatedly. I mean damn, that junkie fuck uses disguises to try and sneak in their homes and schools, what more do you guys need to bust his ass?
In the rabbit's defense, I'd be pretty pissed at the world if I was a highly-paid corporate icon rolling in liquid cash, but a fucking grocery store wouldn't sell me a three dollar box of cereal because of my race. Not "crush someone's innocence by molesting the hell out of them" pissed... but still pretty pissed to take a bowl of cereal away from one of those smarmy bastards and shove it up his ass...
Actually, I suppose that would make me a molester in some states. Thank God I'm not a rabbit, huh?

I'm a boy, Well I'm your mother, I'm a one night stand

While watching Leno the other night, during the monologue (I guess... I wasn't really paying attention) he showed a commercial for the "hot new" animation from JibJab. Yes, what he showed was the actual animation... but admit to yourself it's a commercial for JibJab. They haven't been relevant since a few months before the election, so if you think no money changed hands on this deal you're deluding yourself.
Anyway, it was a supposedly clever rap about Passover and how matzo apparently gives your GI tract time to pause for reflection. I couldn't say how close to home it hit, since I'm not a matzo conniseur or anything... I tried it when I was a kid, and recall it had essentially no taste at all. Maybe just a hint of notebook paper, but that's being generous.

What I want to know is did the 98% of America that's not Jewish even GET any of the jokes in that stupid thing? I'm well-read enough to catch the "Wailing Wal-Mart" one (actually, I elled em eff ay oh on that one) but the rest of it was rockin the mic in the stratosphere.
If you're going to drop the kind of green it takes to buy time on the Tonight Show monologue, for fuck's sake at least be cognizant of your audience. Most people don't know jack shit about their own religion, much less someone else's.

But that's not what I came to talk to you about...

Earlier today I was doing my best "I allegedly ate some matzo" impression when I had a brilliant idea for a product. I'll be pitching this to Sony or Toshiba next month, but since you're all good loyal readers and would never ever think about ripping off your ole buddy Stew (because I know where all y'all fuckers live) I'll cut you in on a sneak peek.
I'm going to go George Carlin one better and design a combination CD Player and condom. It's called... FuckMan™!
As far as an ad slogan goes, I'm thinking of:

"Ten times more personal than an I-Pod"

but I could also go with the simple, yet elegant:

"Fucking Awesome!"

All I know is that "Come On, Eileen" is the first track I'm putting on mine.
.

potato skins, potato cakes, hash browns, and instant flakes

Well damn. I seem to have gone and missed out on the big Survivor finale. I thought they had a couple weeks left at least... I mean geez, I didn't even hear about ONE person getting voted off. Anyway, What I can piece together from various media quotes paints a pretty wierd picture. What do you guys make of it?

With a gout of questionably-colored smoke, (and I think we all know what that means) Benny, age 16, was declared the winner of this year's season of Survivor. While some events didn't make it into the final cut of the show, rumor has it that Bennie's success was due to his strength in a number of events, including: Tug of War, goosestepping, spearfishing, Jew-baiting, and the three-legged race.
When asked to describe his key to victory, Bennie replied that "mainly it was that I didn't make out with any of the other competitors. Abstinance is apparently a big deal in this year's competition... also, I can molest like three altarboys at a time - that really impressed some of the other guys. It probably made a few of them jealous to boot." Man, Benny you crack us up!
According to his media-relations staff, Benny's immediate future holds (of course) the requisite publicity trip to Disneyland. Other items in his agenda include a guest spot on Montel Williams and a three-episode story arc on "Gilmore Girls." Anonymous sources also have him reportedly planning a side-trip to Bergen-Belsen to "smoke a few for old times' sake" and maybe star in a grainy scheisse video.
Honestly, I'm not surprised in the least, what with his penchant for skimpy red cocktail dresses and oversized hats. This whole thing is almost too on-the-nose.

Congratulations, B-Dawg. Go get yourself some giant-headed costume ass, bro!

If my best isn't good enough, then how can it be good enough for two?

Brittney's pregnant! OMFGROFLOLOLOL!!!11one!!!eleventy-one!!1!

Wait... my mistake. I think I misspelled "Who fucking cares?" somewhere up there.
Although, now that I bring it up, I bet this is what finally puts ol' Britt over the top and garners her an invitation to the SuperWhores. She should be getting a call from Courtney Love any minute now...

Make it nice for everyone, but don't sit on the plexiglass toilet

I'm not sure if this phenomenon has reached the hinterlands where you hauled your pathetic shack on wheels this month, but in my local Wal-Mart, they've deployed a new weapon in the War on Literature.

Wal-Mart's going to war against literature? What the fuck are you on about today, Stew?

By "literature," of course, I mean "restroom poetry." I think that was plainly obvious... I mean, I knew exactly what the hell I was talking about... it's not my fault if you can't keep up.

But I digress. Walhalla is now using a special type of stall material that makes graphitti much more difficult. It renders most sharpie scribblings into unreadable blurs... leaving a vast unused canvas upon which no important knowledge can be shared.
Considering that the Wal owns a sizeable percentage of the world's toilets, this is a serious blow to bathroom profundity. (or if you're the abbreviating type - "Shit-Lit") Therefore, I wish to chronicle a few of my favorite missives for the younger generation, before they vanish completely... like Whitney Houston's career... or supply of coke.
Unfortunately, you'll likely not see such witty comments as these on any given wall. The best today's kids can come up with is to make a derogatory comment about an ex girlfriend, or perhaps an ethnic group. Most of these Rhodes Scholars can only think to write "fuck," or call a previous author a homosexual. This simply will not stand.

I think it's best to start with a poem that reflects the nature of the sport itself

Some folks come to sit and think,
Others come to shit and stink.
But I've just come to scratch my balls
And read the writing on the walls.

And of course, the ever-classic

Here I sit, brokenhearted.
I came to shit... but only farted.

My all-time favorite though, was found in a Shell station near Lubbock, Tx.

There is no gravity: the Earth sux.

I'm pretty sure it's no coincidence that this one was found in close proximity to the town that gave us the legendary songsmith Buddy Holly. It also has a reputation for being a shithole. In fact Willie Nelson is reputed to have said "happiness is Lubbock in your rear-view mirror."
Truer words were never spoken.

Now this is by no means an exhaustive survey, nor does it even begin to touch on the greatness of the literary mind on the throne. So I call upon all you barhoppers and roadtrippers out there. Share your favorites with us all... and let me take a producer's credit for it. One caveat though: If you're going to tell us the one about how Texans are born, you'd better have one about every other state. Go on, I dare you to rhyme New Hampshire, bitch.
Don't do it for me though... do it for the children!

Changes are taking the pace I'm going through

Since it would take a more than a couple weeks for people to start noticing the new passle of links I've slapped up over to your left there, I figured I'd point them out so as to kick-start this hootenanny.

Yes, it's now an official Digital Hootenanny. Deal.

During the week, I'll be going back through some of the older stuff and adding little things here and there as I see fit. Eegah, I'm drunk with power! (and ripple)

Go set your clocks forward so you can all wake up at the crack of noon-thirty!

I will run I will fight, I will take you through the night

I got a call from my sister this morning. She said she was getting married and wanted to fly the family out to St. Thomas in the Virgin Islands for the wedding. Pretty cool, eh?

Naturally, I got a disappointing call a few hours later...

Nope, it was the police. They found her body face down in a drainage ditch. Apparently she was mugged or something.





April Fools!

I'm just kidding, you guys. It was really St. John. We know better than to go to a tourist trap like St. Thomas!