Probably won't see this during the Super Bowl halftime

Well, I'm guessing this commercial isn't going to make it on the airwaves here in the good ole U. S. of A. A shame, that. Fucking politcally correct pussies. Click, and enjoy.

(yes, I know it's fake)


My great invention

You've been there - the quiet restaurant, where you and your'n are enjoying a peaceful, relaxing breakfast, having a nice conversation over your omelettes and pancakes. Then steadily a low roar builds, and the building fills with the stink of Ben-Gay and Preparation H. Soon enough, you're yelling to your dining companion just to be heard over the cackles and coughs of the baker's dozen of oldsters that are milling about the tiny, low-ceilinged restaurant.


Yet another stupid business idea

I've got it, my one big idea. The one that's gonna make me millions. Millions I tell ya! You see, it's really simple. What do so many americans love to eat for breakfast? Cereal! That's what! Shit, 'mericans will eat that stuff nearly any time of day.


Welcome to Wild, Wonderful West Virgina

Deer season in WV started Monday of this week, while Betsy and me were holed up in Hooker Central. Naturally, with so much testosterone in the air, there was a whole lot of hooting and hollering out in the parking lot around 4:00 AM whilst we were trying to catch some Z's.


What's all that white shit?!

Greetings, friends, from the frozen North country. And happy Thanksgiving and all that. Here's to a bloated and gassy gullet stuffed with poultry and potatos. Here at the Hansen household will be eating spaghetti, my prefered T-day meal, as we'll be digging into hormone-enhanced gobbler at tomorrow's family feast. If we're lucky, we'll also get to partake of the traditional after-dinner gunplay.


I need to get me some art and stuff

We really need to class our joint up. Cover up all them bare walls, y'know? I figured what could be more s'fistakaded than a painting of our Commander in Chief fixin' to play "Hide the WMD" with his loyal sidekick, the Prince of Darkness.

I wonder if I can buy me a copy on one of them internets I've been hearing about lately. Yeah, that would be High-Tech.


Who thought this was a good idea?

When I'm out on the town, looking for a good time, the first thing I want to do is mosey into my local saloon and throw down a dainty 10-oz can or three of caffeinated, berry and ginseng flavored beer. Fuck yeah, that'll get the party started.


Damn the french

This weekend Betsy's dad (the famous Ray Ray) and stepmom Carol are visiting us from sunny southeastern Ohio (where Glenn is tasked with singlehandedly winning the upcoming presidential election for Kerry, but that's another story). Yesterday we did some requisite touristy stuff.


Oooohh.... scary shit

Another one of Betsy's college friends, Renae, is in town this weekend, so we've been doing the touristy stuff down here in Savannah that we've never got around to before for some reason. Last night we went on one of the two dozen or so "Ghost Tours" offered in town. This basically consists of following a guide dressed up in period garb around a few blocks, dodging cockroaches and the occassionally mentally handicapped fratboy on ecstacy, while listening to the guide's variation on descriptions of gruesome deaths and frightneing(ly expensive) old houses.



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