GLASTONBURY, England, Nov. 3 (UPI) — A British 19-year-old has officially changed his name to “Captain Fantastic Faster Than Superman Spiderman Batman Wolverine Hulk And The Flash Combined.”

The Glastonbury, England, teenager — originally named George Garratt — said his new name, which is thought to be the world’s longest, has so outraged his grandmother that [...]]]> Ouch.

GLASTONBURY, England, Nov. 3 (UPI) — A British 19-year-old has officially changed his name to “Captain Fantastic Faster Than Superman Spiderman Batman Wolverine Hulk And The Flash Combined.”

The Glastonbury, England, teenager — originally named George Garratt — said his new name, which is thought to be the world’s longest, has so outraged his grandmother that she is no longer speaking to him, The Telegraph reported Monday.

The teen said he used an online service to officially change his name for a $20 fee.

“I wanted to be unique,” Captain Fantastic said of his name choice. “I decided upon a theme of superheroes.”

19 years old, and he’s already sick of having sex. Now that’s just sad.

Come on Eileen Oh, I swear what he means (what he means) At this moment you mean everything You [...]]]> Poor old Johnny Ray
Sounded sad upon the radio
But he moved a million hearts in mono
Our mothers cried
Sang along
Who’d blame them
You’ve grown, so grown
Now I must say more than ever
(Come On Eileen)
Too-ra-loo-ra, too-ra-loo-rye, aye
And we can sing just like our fathers

Come on Eileen
Oh, I swear what he means (what he means)
At this moment you mean everything
You in that dress
My thoughts I confess
Verge on dirty
Oh, come on Eileen

(Come On Eileen)

These people round here
Wear beaten down eyes sunk
In smoke dried faces
They’re so resigned to what their fate is
But not us (no not ever)
But not us (not ever)
We are far too young and clever
(Remember)
Too-ra-loo-ra, too-ra-loo-rye, aye
And you’ll hum this tune forever

Come on Eileen
Oh, I swear what he means
Aah, come on let’s
Take off everything
That pretty red dress
Eileen (tell him yes)
Aah, come on let’s
Aah, come on Eileen

That pretty red dress
Eileen (tell him yes)
Aah, come on let’s
Aah, come on Eileen

Come on Eileen, too-rye-aye
Come on Eileen, too-rye-aye
Now you’re full grown
Now you have shown
Oh, Eileen

Say, come on Eileen
These things they are real and I know
How you feel
Now I must say more than ever
Things round here have changed
I say, too-ra-loo-ra, too-ra-loo-rye-aye

Come on Eileen
Oh, I swear (what he means)
At this moment, you mean everything
You in that dress, my thoughts I confess
Which are dirty
Aah, come on Eileen

Aah, come on Eileen
Oh, I swear (what he means)
At this moment, you mean everything
You in that dress, my thoughts I confess
Well, they’re dirty
Come on Eileen

Come on Eileen..

Let’s see if you can get that one out of your head now.  MUWAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!!!!!!!

Anyway, about my process. I generally try to post at least [...]]]> A lot of people ask me about my process. Ok, that’s a dirty lie; nobody asks me about my process. Hell, I don’t even know a lot of people. But humor me, ok? Otherwise I’ll just make these paragraphs longer.

Anyway, about my process. I generally try to post at least every other day, but sometimes I fall down to weekly. Having something like a weekly haiku post is handy, because they’re relatively easy to write, and it boosts my already tenuous self esteem to have a recent post.

I get my ideas from a lot of sources. Sometimes I’ll have an idea for something that stews in my head for days or weeks, and other times it takes me less than half an hour from idea to posting. The ideas can come from news stories I find, Youtube, my personal experiences, or sometimes just random stuff that I make up.

Other posts come about through sheer serendipity. Today is a great example of timing, luck, and general idiocy combining to write a blog entry for me.

Joboo says:
Holy cow. You know that feeling that you get taking a dump after eating something spicy.

Joboo says:
You know, the ring of fire.

Joboo says:
Now imagine getting that when you haven’t eaten anything spicy at all. I’m a little concerned.

M says:
Hmm…

M says:
Is this a metaphor, or is your ass really burning?

Joboo says:
The ‘O’ in my Ohio St tatoo feels like it’s made of napalm.

M says:
So when did this start?

Joboo says:
Freakin’ condescend me.

Joboo says:
Um, today.

M says:
No, this is serious concern on my part. Ignore the monotone.

Joboo says:
Today when I made my first sacrifice to the porcelin god.

M says:
And no spicy food? Sometimes I forget.

Joboo says:
Nope. I’m sure of it.

M says:
Are you sleepeating again?

Joboo says:
Now you’re just trying to embellish.

M says:
I’ll put that down as a maybe.

M says:
You don’t gotta get all defensive about it. It’s not like you’re sleepvomiting or sleepshitting.

M says:
Wait. Are you?

Joboo says:
No & no.

M says:
Good. That’d have been awkward.

Joboo says:
Especially for my wife.

M says:
Sounds like your O-ring is injured.

Joboo says:
Great. “Hey honey, can you look at something for me?”

M says:
You’ve been married a while. Might be ok.

M says:
Or you could squat over a mirror.

Joboo says:
She might have caught a glance at one time or another.

M says:
If you’re caught, just tell them you’re exercising.

Joboo says:
Exercising what would be the question.

Joboo says:
Or rather, for what reason.

M says:
Exercising your lack of shame?

Joboo says:
Please. I think the fact that we’re having this conversation shows that is in good shape.

M says:
Can we start over and call it a metaphor? In the Choose Your Own Adventure version of this conversation, that’s really where we fucked up.

Joboo says:
If you want to call it a metaphor, fine. Call it a metaphor.

M says:
It’s a metaphor for rectal burning.

Joboo says:
I’ma gonna go get some ice for my metaphor.

M says:
Go right ahead. I’m firing up the soldering iron for my eyes.

Joboo says:
Wuss.

Joboo says:
Lunchtime. Ice cream sounds good.

M says:
But not to eat.

Joboo says:
Right.

Thanks man. You’re a lifesaver.

CARACAS (Reuters) – A Venezuelan man who had been declared dead woke up in the morgue in excruciating pain after medical examiners began their autopsy.

Carlos Camejo, 33, was declared dead after a highway accident and taken to the morgue, where examiners began an autopsy only [...]]]> I think it’s safe to call this a bad fucking day:

CARACAS (Reuters) – A Venezuelan man who had been declared dead woke up in the morgue in excruciating pain after medical examiners began their autopsy.

Carlos Camejo, 33, was declared dead after a highway accident and taken to the morgue, where examiners began an autopsy only to realize something was amiss when he started bleeding. They quickly sought to stitch up the incision on his face.

I for one will be requesting an anesthetic for my autopsy.

I was taking a shower, and realized that I had left the towel on my bed. For some reason, I decided that waiting until the impending [...]]]>

On occasion, I embarrass myself. On very rare occasions, I’m embarrassed even though nobody is looking. Case in point: last night.

I was taking a shower, and realized that I had left the towel on my bed. For some reason, I decided that waiting until the impending conclusion of the shower was too late, and that I needed the towel waiting for me in the bathroom. Taking five steps mid-shower was clearly the most attractive option. Taking those very same five steps post-shower would just not do.

So there I was, walking those completely innocuous five steps, completely naked and soaking wet, on a slippery floor. Three steps into my journey, I fell. Hard. I did a toe plant into the baseboard and knee plant on the floor. My momentum actually slid me a few inches. Fortunately, those few inches were actually in the direction I was headed. Otherwise, I’d have been really pissed.

But this isn’t the bad part. People fall, and that’s OK. What I’m having trouble living down is what I said afterward. Now most people, when faced with this particular set of circumstances, will say something like, “fuck,” or “shit.” That’s pretty normal. What I said was, “No! I don’t like this!” What the hell is that? Who says something like that? I mean, isn’t it kind of obvious?

I swear, I think I’m this close to introducing “drat” into my vocabulary.

The Boy: Over the years, I’ve learned a lot about women. Show them the pretty face, and they love you. I’m doing better than you, Dad.

Me: Over quite a few more years, I’ve learned quite a bit more about women. The pretty [...]]]>

Today, as we left the grocery store:

The Boy: Over the years, I’ve learned a lot about women. Show them the pretty face, and they love you. I’m doing better than you, Dad.

Me: Over quite a few more years, I’ve learned quite a bit more about women. The pretty face will only get you so far. Then comes the crazy.

Note that there was a slight pause between what he said and what I said, as he recovered from a throat punch.

Can it get much better than this? A state trooper throws away some pain pills and looks the other way in exchange for a blow job from a porn star. Ok, so far it seems reasonable enough. But wait, the trooper gets in trouble! WTF? He’s out there [...]]]>

Can it get much better than this? A state trooper throws away some pain pills and looks the other way in exchange for a blow job from a porn star. Ok, so far it seems reasonable enough. But wait, the trooper gets in trouble! WTF? He’s out there every day, risking life and limb to make our lives safer, and we’re going to begrudge him a little roadside hummer? Oh wait, he got in trouble for using his department-issued laptop to view her website, not the blow job. Nevermind then; he should rot in hell.

By the way, here is her blog. She sounds like a delightful girl; one you would take home to mom, only if mom had a huge life insurance policy.

UPDATE: Let’s have a moment of silence for Barbie’s blog.