DoF Friday Funk: Chico Mann

Chico Mann - Who You Runnin' From

Your Headlines for January 30, 2008

News & World

Exxon Mobile posts 45.2 billion dollar profit;immediately begins drafting paperwork for bailout request.

CEO overheard saying "If Ford can build shitty, overpriced, and generally dangerous cars while rarely offering recalls and get a few billion then why the fuck not?"




Gossip

Jessica Simpson shows-off 'Mom pants' for a brand new demographic: Young fat chicks.

Kim Kardashian and Ugly Betty star America Ferrera reportedly also interested in Chubby's Angel, a portly spin-off of the venerable 70's sitcom.










Sports

NBC begins Superbowl Pregame show 3 days before game.

Hungry for fresh content, analysts and former players Trent Dilfer and Mark Schlereth begin discussing differences between the oniony musk of a champion to the mildewy odor of defeat.

The DoF Dept of Health and Human Services Presents: The DoF Pyramid to a Happy You.

Great Moments in Fat History- "The Bacon Explosion"

By Reno Gruber, Eater of most things unholy.

When we think of the 'new' America, we think of a crumbling economy and lost jobs… but we also dream of hope. When we think of the 'old' America, well, we think of wars started by old people and a foreign policy that revolved around "our god is righter than your god." But in both of these Americas, we have the tireless urge to consume. Now that we know it's bad panda for us to drive tanks to the mall and emit garbage into the atmosphere because it's probably brought an ice age dangerously close, we turn that tireless need to consume inwards.

Luckily the people at BBQADDICTS.COM

have surmised a beautiful way to to kill yourself slowly in the most delicious way possible.

Ladies and gentlemen: The Bacon Explosion.

Start with a 10 piece slab of weaved bacon, dry rubbed with seasoning salt. Then add a few pounds of Italian sausage on top. Then for the salty icing on this meat-cake, add a lb. of bacon cooked in the middle.

But the purely American genius that comes next is the presentation:

The sausage is rolled with the cooked bacon in the middle, then the uncooked bacon weave is rolled on top of that. This takes the term "suck my salty meat log" to a whole new and delectable level.

Where my counterparts may wax poetic on this being yet another blight on the state of our glorious union, I feel this particular piece of ingenuity is a stoke of unadulterated brilliance.

Will your heart explode if you eat this? Probably. But the question you ask yourself should be: "Is it worth it?"

Yes. I believe it is.

For the recipe check out:
http://www.bbqaddicts.com/blog/recipes/bacon-explosion/

Ps. The DoF is not responsible if this piece of culinary freedom results in Heart Disease.

PPs. No word on whether or not the actual explosion is in your pants after digestion.

Urinalysis: a multi-part study of the behaviors, codes, customs and characters of the workplace restroom

The Miserly Toilet Paper Dispenser

The miserly toilet paper dispenser allocates butt tissue one 1/2-ply square at a time, as if the company's fiscal well-being depended on meticulous oversight of employee anal hygiene overhead.

Of course, maybe this wouldn't be so bad if workplace toilet paper didn't immediately dissolve upon direct contact with your rectal cavity.

The Intellectual Scrapheap: Not-So-Deep Thoughts from the Mind of Blaine Fridley

"That's me!"

I love it when someone is given the title of "adventurer" in the history books. Like "frontier adventurer Daniel Boone," for example. Apparently, this was a career option at one point:

Some dude at a party:  So, what do you do? 

Daniel Boone: Me? Oh, I'm an adventurer.

Some dude: Oh, really? Hmmm. What kind of adventures?

Daniel Boone: What kind? Oh, you know, just "general adventures" I guess... Indian fighting, heavy drinking, general grappling... you know, that kind of stuff. It's what I went to school for, but I've been looking for a change lately, you know? Maybe thinking about becoming a banker from Boston... maybe take Zeke, Jeb and the wife out to Oregon eventually… but I don't know, man...you know? It's just, like, in the "thinking about it" stage right now. Plus, the Oregon Trail can be pretty tough, you know, typhoid and shit... I think I even might of heard something about possibly some rafting at the end or some shit, too, and it's like  fuck that, you know? But, whatever, it's just, like, an idea now,  you know?

Stoner Confucius says...

"To be able under all circumstances to practice five things constitutes perfect virtue; these five things are gravity, generosity of soul, sincerity, earnestness, and...um...I'm drawing a blank, dude...but it's probably like 'sharing' or something. So pass it, for fuck's sake."

The DoF Friday Funk: Parliament-Funkadelic

No introduction needed. 

Funkadelic - "I got a thing"

Parliament - "Dr. Funkenstein"

Funkadelic - "Take it to the stage"

The 2nd Annual DoF "That's Webtastic" Award for World Wide Web Creepiness

Only a few times in a year can you stumble so innocently on something so unreal it changes your standards of reality. By 2009, if a website surprises you in its earnest ability to blow your fucking mind, it deserves some accolades.

Before I go any further.

http://petsinuniform.com

Go ahead, have your mind blown, we'll be here to collect yourself when you get back.

I'm not sure where to go from here, ladies and gentlemen. But as a designer, the fact that they are getting 20 bucks for the lamest of photoshop job makes me both hopeful that I can kill and sad that people in this economy are still wiping their ass with Andrew Jackson.

I mean, the irony of a cat with a naval suit on will never stop being the height of hilarity to me.

I demand your comments now.

Last year's winner.

Photographer Captures High Point of Bush Administration

Your Headlines for January 20, 2009

Breaking:

Facebook Temporarily Unavailable, Panic Strikes as Mundane Status of Millions of Casual Acquaintances Remains Unknown for Several Hours

Workplace:

Office Coffee Creamer Contains No Dairy, Pretty Much Everything Else

Corn syrup solids, hydrogenated motor oil, Owens Corning® fiberglass insulation, ashen remains of Jimmy Hoffa top ingredient list

Gossip:

Amy Winehouse to Divorce

Gentlemen, take a number… she's ON the market again! Hello? Fellas?

James Brown Saves Boston (or the DoF Gets Serious for a Moment)

by Blaine Fridley, Editor-in-Chief

"SOUL POWER, ACTIVATE!!"

In the days after Martin Luther King, Jr.'s assassination, America's major cities were ablaze with violent rage.

But over in Beantown, it was a different story.

They had Soul Brother Number 1 on the scene.

An already-scheduled appearance was set for April 5th, the day after the person Tavis Smiley calls the greatest American ever produced was silenced by gunfire in Memphis.

Boston's mayor wanted to cancel it, fearing the racially-charged worst.

Council member Tom Atkins urged him not to. If the show went on AND they televised it live, it might be enough to keep people - and their Molotov cocktails - off the streets.

For Mr. Brown, it took A LOT of convincing and A LOT of money ($60,000 to cover fines he would incur from another TV show for appearing on air before its broadcast), but the show did go on -- at the Boston Garden and over the air waves.

And by all accounts, Brown didn't perform on a stage that night, but a tightrope.

Tensions were high. Brown made several pleas for calm and respect as the balance started to tip the way of chaos.

Brilliantly, Brown made the pleas for peace about him. With an unruly audience openly defying police, and on the brink of mobocracy, the Godfather scolded his fans for lack of respect:

"Now I asked the police to step back because I figured I could get some respect from my own people. Now are we together or we ain't?"

He wasn't playing a show so much as he was attempting to defuse a bomb, which he did.

James Brown. The Soul Brother Super Hero Saves A City.

There's a reason he wore a cape, you know.

Here's footage from the actual show:

And as for Dr. King, take a moment to go waaaay deeper than "I Have A Dream." His legacy is SO much more than the fight for racial equality.

He was the booming voice of justice for everybody: The poor. The war-torn. The neglected.

And he served them all fearlessly.

Thanks, Dr. King. The world misses you.

Stoner Confucius says...

"I hear, and I forget. I see, and I remember. I do, and I understand. I smoke, and I totally have to grab more Chee-tos the next time I hit the 7-11."

The DoF Friday Funk: 24-Carat Black

Their one and only album is one of the most sampled digs of all time… and for good reason.

24-Carat Black - Ghetto: Misfortune's Wealth

24-Carat Black - 24-Carat Black Theme

Midday Mindfuck: The Rick Astley Conspiracy

By Merton Sussex, Headache Sufferer

Blaine Fridley's recent article about CNN's Campbell Brown finally catching on to the amusing, if long-played out (especially in the lightning-fast internet world) prank of "Rick-Rolling" has proven conclusively that the once-fresh trend has jumped the shark, and jumped it big-time.

For those unfamiliar, "Rick-Rolling" is a hilarious bit of japery wherein some wily netizen sends a friend a link to an online video, usually with a tantalizing tag-line promising something cool to be seen. Only upon clicking the link does the "mark" discover that they've been duped. Because instead of a video showing something unbelievable, like Britney Spears skull-fucking Richard Simmons with a strap-on, Bill O' Reilly's head exploding "Scanners"-style, or Keanu Reeves displaying a faint glimmer of anything resembling a pale echo of talent, the link in fact sends the recipient to a YouTube video of Rick Astley's 1987 hit "Never Gonna Give You Up." From there, copious amounts of hilarity ensue.

(A short aside: If you have to ask why this is funny, please turn off your computer, disassemble it, place it carefully back into the box it came in, and drive your AOL-subscribing, 28.8-baud-modem-having ass back to Wal-Mart for a refund. Because you have no business being on the internet. I'm serious. Do it now.)

Still with me? Good.

Blaine's article highlighted an interesting facet of internet meme-ology: as soon as the mainstream old media talking heads get hold of something, whether it's, "Ate My Balls," "All Your Base" or LOLcats, the trend is wordlessly and unanimously considered "over" by all of the script kiddies who scurry, roach-like, around the digital underbelly.

But.

While the "Rick-Roll" itself has become decidedly passé, there are still facets of the complex world of Astley that remain under-illuminated.

In the comments thread for the below article, Diary reader and superstar blogger in his own right Knarf Black XIV of the super-delicious B-flick snark-fest "Video Updates" got out his tweezers, and peeled back a hitherto-unseen layer of the mystique of Astley when he pointed THIS out:

"Rick-rolling jumped the shark right about when people started figuring out this uber-nerdy connection:"

Chrono Trigger - Robo's Theme. (Link opens in a new window.)

Yeah. Apparently, somewhere along the line, fans of the legendary Super Nintendo RPG Chrono Trigger noticed that a piece of music in the game sounded suspiciously...Astley-esque. To a degree that could scarceley be considered coincidental. Much like the Creaky Boards / Joe Satriani / Coldplay conundrum I reported on a few weeks back, except sprinkled across a wider array of media.

Knarf goes on to say:

"Sound familiar? Here are the two songs superimposed:"

Astley/Chrono Mashup. (Link opens in a new window.)

"Now you see just how deep the rabbit hole goes."

Indeed I do, Knarf. Indeed I do. And yet, FURTHER research indicates that the rabbit hole may go still deeper yet.

Ready to have your mind blown? Here's another nutty layer to the ever-creepier Rick Astley parfait: There's evidence that Kylie Minogue and Rick Astley are, in fact, the same person.

Not convinced?

Okay, just for the sake of context, this is Rick Astley performing his signature ditty:



Please, don't feel obligated to watch it all. Feel free to move on as soon as your ears remember the unique flavor of Ricky's vocal tone, described by some as "Big Black Voice coming out of the body of Howdy Doody." Roughly through the first chorus ought to cover it.

Now, here's a recording of Kylie Minogue's 80's hit "I Should Be So Lucky":



Cute, catchy. Very '80's. Not specifically similar to Astley's work, beyond the vague, slightly plastic-bubblegum production ethic that was endemic to MOST pop music of the greed decade's zeitgeist. Pretty disposable, all in all. Unremarkable at best.

Or, at least it WAS, until some German TV show host figured out that Kylie Minogue's "Lucky" 45, when played at the 33-1/3rd RPM speed on an analog turntable, yielded extremely eerie sonic results:



HOLY SHIT!

I know what you're thinking, though...you suspect that chisel-jawed Teutonic bastard is somehow cheating. Faking it. That the act of manually slowing down the turntable has screwed with the fabric of time and space somehow, and his results cannot be reproduced. It's just too uncanny. But, I assure you, it's real.

As further evidence, here is the SAME SONG, except the pitch has been shifted 26% (the mathematical gap ratio between 45 RPM and 33-1/3rd) using digital studio tools:



That's not just Astley-esque. It's not like one of those situations where you say, "Meh, sorta, I guess." The tone of the resulting lead vocal is so eerily similar that it defies all known laws of logic.

But that's STILL not all.

Someone apparently brought this phenomenon to the attention of Ricky-boy himself. It apparently blew his shit out of the water, too. Pay special attention at the three-minute mark of THIS video:



Wheels within wheels, my friends. Wheels within wheels.

Campbell Brown: Pop Culture Cold-Case Unit

In this, the Instant Information Age, nothing is more important than being The First -- especially when it comes to reporting on the latest Internet phenomenon. That is, unless you're Campbell Brown, host of CNN's No Bias No Bull (which coincidentally, is all bias and all bull, all the time. In the world of cable news anchors, "no" always means "yes." Ex: O'Reilly's "No Spin Zone."). Nope, she prefers waiting until that Internet phenomenon's dead, decaying, bloated carcus is found washed ashore, vulture's pecking away at its eye sockets. This was the case tonight when she reported on the "latest" craze to sweep the World Wide Web: something the kids are all calling "Rickrolling."

Wow, Campbell, what's next? lonelygirl15? The Dancing Baby? Maybe an in-depth piece on Friendster and this rapidly growing Internet-based trend known as "social networking"? Do you not have anybody under the age of 30 on your staff?

Sorry, don't have the vid to share. Here's the transcript, though (Oh, and by the way, Campbell, if you get an email about Bill Gates sharing his fortune with you, it's NOT real):

BROWN: Tonight's "Bull's-Eye" goes to something that our staff has been buzzing about all day. They've even been singing along. And Erica Hill is here to explain what is up.

HILL: That's right. The song stuck in everybody's head so we're going to do it to you at home too just because we like to share. It's actually -- this is something that's really tough to explain without you seeing it first. So first, I want you to take a look at this video that House Speaker Nancy Pelosi released today of her cats.

And there we go. Here's the thing. This is called getting "Rick-rolled." Oh, yes, "Never Going to Let You Go," Rick Astley, '87. Those were the days.

Here's what happened because apparently this --

BROWN: It's all coming back now.

HILL: It is. All the kids are talking about this. So Rick Astley and that classic from '87, including the hair, will pop up just at some random point during a video while you're watching it online and that's called getting "Rick-rolled" which happened to Nancy Pelosi's cat. It also happened very famously to Barack Obama.

Check this one out. In fact it may be -- those are the cats again. But the Barack Obama one could be the most famous one. I think we have it.

BROWN: Oh, come on.

(BEGIN VIDEO CLIP)

BARACK OBAMA (D), PRESIDENT-ELECT: We're no strangers to love.

You know the rules and so do I.

(END VIDEO CLIP)

HILL: But that one they, you know, they kind of put it to music. Five and a half million views of that one so far.

BROWN: Unbelievable.

HILL: "Rick-rolling."

BROWN: I mean, how did this start? Like who comes up with the idea?

HILL: It's an excellent question. From everything I've seen, they really don't know who started it but it's become a really big thing. When I first heard about it, I thought "Rick-rolling" involved Rick Sanchez. But no. No twittering involved.

BROWN: OK. That does it for us. Who knew? Erica Hill, always bringing in something fascinating. We're ending it there.

"LARRY KING LIVE" starts right now. We'll see you tomorrow night

Champions of Society - Ann Coulter: Cunt

Merton Sussex, The Merchant of Grooves

Ann Coulter neither needs nor deserves an introduction, especially not to readers of the Diary. But..for the uninitiated, Ann Coulter is, at least on paper, a "conservative commentator." A "pundit." Which, as is so often the case, doesn't really tell the whole story.

The fact is that Ann is SO "conservative" that she makes Strom Thurmond look like Abbie Hoffman. She thought "Mein Kampf" was a comedy. She espouses positions so far to the right that it's a wonder she doesn't tip over. Among her more egregious assertions:

She insisted that 9/11 widows, rather than having had their lives shattered into a million flaming pieces and then buried in rubble, were actually having the time of their lives. "These broads are millionaires, lionized on TV and in articles about them, reveling in their status as celebrities and stalked by grief-arazzis. These self-obsessed women seemed genuinely unaware that 9/11 was an attack on our nation and acted as if the terrorist attacks happened only to them. I've never seen people enjoying their husbands' deaths so much."

She used a gay slur about former Senator and Democratic presidential candidate John Edwards, saying, "I was going to have a few comments on the other Democratic presidential candidate, John Edwards, but it turns out that you have to go into rehab if you use the word 'faggot,' so, [I'm at] kind of at an impasse, [and] can't really talk about Edwards." Being as this was an offhand slam on the reaction to the infamous Don Imus "nappy-headed hos" suspension, one can also assume she takes a dim view of the condemnation of bigorty of any stripe.

She even went so far as to suggest, with a straight face, that the United States ought to bomb every even vaguely middle-eastern country completely off the map in order to advance the national interest. "The fact of Islamo-Fascism is indisputable," she said. "I find it tedious to detail the savagery of the enemy . . . I want to kill them. Why don't Democrats? We should invade their countries, kill their leaders and convert them to Christianity."

Yeah, really.

Would you trust this...THING...to baby-sit your guinea pig?
But it is precisely her extremism which is what confuses me about her. Something about her doesn't ring true. She just CAN'T be for real. NOBODY is that far to the right. It's positively cartoonish. Especially after all of the obvious damage wrought by the outgoing administration.

In fact, I've long suspected Little Asshole Annie an actress on the RNC payroll who's only out there to be a lightning rod for controversy; to serve as an extreme example someone even a douche like Trent Lott can point to in order to paint himself as a "moderate."

In any case, she kept quiet throughout most of the last leg of the presidential campaign, being as she was no fan of John McCain. Because she considered him too centrist. But now that we're poised on the brink of the inauguration of that most lib'rul'est lib'rul who ever lib'ruled, Barack Obama (or, as she insists upon referring to him anytime she crops up like a floating turd on Fox News, "Barack...HUSSEIN!!!...Obama"), she's back like a bad penny with her man-hands and Adam's apple to decry the direction this country is inevitably taking, now that the left is in charge. The fact that the catastrophic mess he's inheriting happened in the first place because the side of the aisle SHE fellates by proxy has fucked things up beyond recognition really doesn't ever enter her mind, it seems.

But.

The fact that she's a publicity whore who loves to sell her loathsome books full of slander (one of them, ironically enough, entitled "Slander") means she can't stop attention-whoring herself in front of audiences any time she gets the opportunity. Which just means that there are loads of opportunities for TV hosts, debate moderators, and her ideological opponents to poke her shit more full of holes than a Whiffle ball.

For your entertainment, I've chosen a few such examples below. Enjoy.

First, her recent appearance on "The View," in which Whoopi Goldberg surgically installs Ann an alternate bowel-evacuation aperture:



Here, recently-elected Minnesota Senator Al Franken uses his trademark humor to illustrate just how much Ann's hatred clouds her view of history, when each is asked which historical figure they would have most wanted to be:



Here's Adam Corolla hanging up in Ann's beef-jerky face when she dares to give him lip on his own radio show. Liquid brilliance, this:



Finally, modern Renaissance Man Henry Rollins writes Ann an open letter, proposing that the two of them enter into an interestingly unconventional domestic arrangement:



There's more, certainly...Lots more. Nobody who is as downright fucking stupid in public as often as Ann leaves in their wake a drought of mockable moments. But, I only have so much time on my lunch break. Blaine requires a specific quota of wallets be made before I receive my daily ration of gutter runoff and week-old KFC biscuit, and I'm WAYYY behind for the day.

Diary of Fools: Tune Translator Vol. 1

By Merton Sussex, Chairman of the Bored

Modern pop music can be perplexing, laden, as it so often is, with oblique imagery, vague references, and confusing lingo. On the one hand, this is desirable; art SHOULD be open to interpretation, and different songs will then mean different things to different people. On the other, it can be a big ol' pain on the ass if you have absolutely zero idea what the fuck that overpaid loser on the radio is howling about.

To that end, there are often online articles which purport to "break down" or "explain" some of the more confusing offerings of the current musical spectrum. Most recently, I stumbled upon this blog, which attempts to do just that. It addresses some of the more commonly-misinterpreted songs of recent years, but it does so badly. Most of the "insight" it attempts to render is either forehead-slappingly obvious, or dead wrong.

So, it occurred to your ol' Uncle Mert that shining the unforgiving light of close scrutiny upon pop music and it's often-impenetrable lyrics might be an under-served niche in the online world. And so, you have to deal with this: The Diary of Fools Tune Translator.

First up is an old favorite: The Violent Femmes' "Blister in the Sun."

To begin with, songs about...shall we say, "self-love" are legion in the rock lexicon. From the Buzzcocks' "Orgasm Addict" to Billy Joel's "Captain Jack," through Cyndi Lauper's "She Bop," and Green Day's "Longview," there have historically been as many songs about you-know-what as there are euphemisms for it (e.g., "Cuppin' the Bishop," "Punching the Parrot," and "The Five-Knuckle Shuffle." Or, if you're a lady, "Rubbin' the Nubbin," "Flickin' the Bean," or "The Slit Slide"). So it's not surprising that it's a theme that gets applied to a lot of songs whether it fits, or not.

One such song to which the overall idea of the dolphin-flog is erroneously applied is the Violent Femmes' 1981 folk-punk hit, "Blister in the Sun."

That's correct, "Blister In The Sun" is NOT, as is frequently assumed, about pounding the pole. It's actually a writ-large expression of anger and frustration on the part of the character sung by Gordon Gano (no doubt informed by Gano's experience, which lends it a semi-autobiographical bent) concerning a particularly painful sunburn.

I'll explain.

When I'm out walking I strut my stuff
Yeah I'm so strung out
I'm high as a kite I just might
Stop to check you out

This passage refers to the protagonist's having headed out on a hot, sun-bright day, and finding himself struck by the symptoms of heatstroke. The line, "I'm high as a kite" obviously refers to the light-headedness typical to the onset of the condition, and the reference to being "strung out" is an allusion to the subsequent fatigue sufferers experience. Anyone who's had heatstroke can attest to the accuracy of this reference.

Further: it's well-known that the Violent Femmes began their career in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, which is prone to exceptionally harsh, long-lasting winters, as well as summer-like spring conditions that tend to arrive quite suddenly, sometimes almost overnight. Ergo, every year, countless victims of heatstroke wind up in area hospitals because they're so eager to get out and enjoy the weather that they fail to take adequate precautions against the heat, such as drinking sufficient fluids, and using sunscreen to protect themselves from the sudden climatic change.

At the end of the phrase, "I just might / stop to check you out" refers to Gano (or his character/surrogate) having his activity ground to a halt by the harshness of the conditions.

But that's not all. The song continues:

Body and beats I stain my sheets
I don't even know why
My girlfriend shes at the end
She is starting to cry

"Body and beats" is a reference to the suns rays having "beaten" down on his "body", leaving him feeling "beaten." And the aforementioned eagerness to enjoy spring and failure to prepare for the seasonal condition change is reflected by the line, "I don't even know why." Both the typically endemic disorientation from the onset of heatstroke, and the typical Milwaukee resident's omission of protective clothing, fluids and sunscreen when rushing outdoors, have left him unsure of what, exactly, has happened to him.

Of course, "I stain my sheets" is not an allusion to semen as some have reasoned. It's actually a reference to the Solarcaine® and other Aloe-based topical analgesic/anasthetic products his girlfriend has apparently applied to his epidermis in a vain attempt to soothe the pain and damage caused by the solar radiation over-exposure. She is crying, because she's "at the end." This is a clever double-entendre referring both to her having applied so much of the attendant ointments (out of overcompensation for trying to match the burn's severity) that she's run out of them, and her emotional overreaction ("she is starting to cry") at seeing someone she cares about in pain, leaving her "at the end" of her wits and patience.

Of course, as anyone who's suffered a severe sunburn knows, the burn damage continues to ravage your skin long after you remove yourself from direct UV exposure, which is why pain worsens, and blisters continue to form well into the next day...No doubt the phenomenon that inspired the title.

Once you know the real story, it all becomes clear, doesn't it?

Interestingly, the Violent Femmes' critically-panned and poor-selling second record, "Hallowed Ground," while widely considered to be a stylistic departure for the band (due to a strong undercurrent of Christian influence having crept into the work following singer-songwriter Gano's conversion to the faith following the eponymous LP), is in fact a concept album that's totally about beatin' it.

The Boner Bailout

by Blaine Fridley, Editor-in-Chief/Breast Man

The breadline currently forming on Capitol Hill as a result of America's horrifying economic downfall currently reads like the nomination sheet for the Sleaze Monger of the Year Awards: Wall Street investors, car salesman, Hollywood producers… but somehow that just doesn't seem sleazy enough for me. There's gotta be a way these bailout requests could be even more insulting to the average workaday American public struggling to fill its collective cupboard with Ramen Noodles, Kool-Aid and Wonderbread. I'm sure I could find plenty more examples if I just bothered to do any research in between my one-handed web surfing sessions, but that's just notHEY! Wait a minute! I've got it! One-handed web surfing sessions? That reminds me of a headline I saw while looking for stuff to keep my other hand busy while doing some one-handed web surfing…

… Last week it was reported that Hustler founder Larry Flint and professional date rapist/sworn enemy of fathers with college-aged daughters/Girls Gone Wild founder Joe Francis were putting together THEIR OWN $5 billion bailout proposal. Yes, it seems without a thick wad (sorry, the puns are pretty much unavoidable here) of taxpayer-produced funds ejaculated into the porn industry's eagerly-agape mouth (OK, that one was very avoidable), the adult film industry will go down like Jenna Jameson on a massive, throbbing piece of purple man-meat (sorry, I'm not even trying anymore).

Of course, the knee-jerk reaction here is, well, to be sleazed-out and insulted. But a deeper thrust (seriously, I can't stop) into the matter might prove otherwise. Mr. Flint brings up a good point when he mentions in a CNN story that "people are too depressed to be sexually active... this is very unhealthy as a nation. They can do without cars, but they cannot do without sex." So true, Larry. So true. I hate cars. Unless, of course, I'm having sex in them.

And just think, what will America's wank-off sessions be like without our beloved porn industry. The advent of the Internet has rendered our imaginations impotent, thanks to its instant and readily available access to porn*. Without that readily available porn, we would be forced back to the dark ages of Sears bra ads and BET's "Uncut." Is that what you want, America? Is it?? I'm sorry, I don't know about you, but I just can't stay up that late to watch uncensored Jodeci videos. I have a job. Well, as of today, at least.

(*Seriously and genuinely speaking, though…thanks, Internet. Thank you SO, SO much.)

Then, there are those who say, why would we bailout such a predatory industry that offers nothing constructive to society? Well, to the latter portion of that question, please read above. As for bailing out a so-called predatory industry? Well, unlike those altruistic philanthropists in NYC, Detroit and LA… the skin-pic pushers in Van Nuys at least do all their ass-fucking out in the open. Shit, if given the option I'd much rather give my money to Larry Flint than Goldman Sachs any day.


But what do YOU think, DoF readers?

The Intellectual Scrapheap: Not-So-Deep Thoughts from the Mind of Blaine Fridley

Why do the people on  board game boxes always look so fucking excited? I've played Connect Four before, assholes. It's not that fun.

The DoF Friday Funk: Blak Twang

Blak Twang and Roots Manuva - "Shhhoosh"

Blak Twang - "Help Dem Lord"

This Day in History: 1964

President Lyndon B. Johnson declares his "war on poverty."

Armed with cardboard-fortified shopping carts and pickle jars full of urine, the U.S. Army's homeless adversaries proved to be no match for the most powerful military force in the world, as they were swiftly overwhelmed in the fastest military operation in the history of the American Armed Forces.

Stoner Confucius Says…

"Those who put off until tomorrow what can be done today, like, you know, probably have a really comfortable couch, man."

Your Headlines for January 7, 2009

From the DoF Newswire:



Breaking

Peace at Last! Palestinian-backed David Lee Roth Supporters and Israeli Sammy Haggar Backers "Agree to Disagree" on the One True Leader of Van Halen

Prime Minister Olmert: "Diamond Dave's jump-kicks are undeniably awesome.
Hamas Leader Moussa Abou Marzouk: "OK, OK… so "5150" ain't too fuckin' bad."

Health and Beauty

5 Tips for Soft and Manageable Hair with George Stephanopoulos
plus:
Anne Coulter's Home Remedy for Vaginal Odor

Obituary

Minnesota Timberwolves' 2008-09 Season Dies Young

The Intellectual Scrapheap: Not-So-Deep Thoughts from the Mind of Blaine Fridley

Things you never want to hear the play-by-play announcer say about your favorite NBA team:

"Brian Cardinal is a very important part of this organization."

Oh well. What else should I expect from a franchise that considers 7 straight 1st round playoff losses its "golden era." Vomit. Weep. Repeat.

(note on above pic: Believe it or not, this picture is not from a planned photo shoot. This is an actual in-game shot. He really is this glassy-eyed and motionless on the court.)

Rejected Logo Concepts, Part I: Nashville Predators

Sports merchandising is a multi-billion dollar industry*. Every year, athletic supporters all over the world fork over their hard-earned/Ponzi-scheme generated money to buy just about any piece of crap with their favorite sports franchise's name on it, because, as David Puddy once said, you "gotta support the team." 

*Probably, but that's just a guess. Facts are for nerds.

The enormous money-generating potential of officially-licensed team paraphernalia means the selection of a team logo takes on a high degree of importance for any franchise. It must not only work to immediately identify the team it's representing, but also be hip, stylish and unique enough to drive the sales of all the already-mentioned child labor-constructed crap it'll be stamped on. 

So how do teams go about making this extremely important decision? Well, while some teams hire private design firms, many others make logo-creation a contest open to the public to generate the most ideas possible. That means for every logo selected, hundreds - and sometimes even thousands - of entries don't get a chance to be brandished on an officially licensed jersey, hat, yarmulke or colostomy bag. 

In this ongoing series, sharply titled "Rejected Logo Concepts", the DoF will highlight these never-before-seen team logos, so you, the fan, can decide whether or not your favorite franchise made the best decision.

First up, the NHL's Nashville Predators.

Current Logo:

Rejected Runner-Up:

So do YOU think Nashville made the right call? Leave your opinion in the comment section and email diaryoffools@hotmail.com with your contact info/shirt size for a chance to win a T-shirt emblazoned with the runner-up design. 

How'd You Spend New Year's Eve?

Over in Foggy Londontown (a.k.a Britain) their emergency number, 999, was at their highest volume rate called every 7 seconds on mostly alcohol related issues. And I thought my night quickly deteriorated when I stopped using a glass for my champagne and just drank straight from the bottle.

An article entitled "Boozy Britain's bloody New Year: A 999 call every seven seconds in alcohol-induced mayhem" featured in Britian's Daily Mail obviously captured my attention by the words boozy, bloody, and mayhem. It could possibly be some of the English language's greatest words, and they were all used in one title. Perhaps even more catching is the very first picture used in the article. Homeboy got effed up, hard core.

And, the pictures just get better as you scroll down. The captions under the pictures are equally as great. After a recent discussion with Merton Sussex, I am now imagining the newscasters of the BBC delivering this news story with their end of sentence pitch tone increase.

Here are some of my personal favorite tidbits from the article:

- One man called 999 to ask if New York was in America and what time it was in New York.

- They actually set up "booze buses" throughout towns in England to deal with minor alcohol incidents, in an obvious anticipation of events to come.

- In a town called Essex all 200 jail cells were full of drunkards, the rest had to be shipped to a nearby town to be held.

- I don't think I can list anymore, it's just too much.

Check it out for yourself

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1103843/Boozy-Britains-bloody-New-Year-A-999-seven-seconds-alcohol-induced-mayhem.html

The DoF Friday Funk: Jimmy McGriff

"Chris Cross"



"The Bird"