Act as if it where impossible to fail

While it's completely possible this man is wearing a shirt that makes fun of the impossibility of not failing, one must assume from the hammer loop in his pants that this shirt has failed and is, therefore, ironic. I have to point out that this guy got to the register and noted to the cashier that he had forgotten his wallet. Fail. I mean faile.

Yeah, He's a Working Dog

We have a fairly useless dog -- he washes no dishes, he rotates no tires, and he's never saved Bobby from the well. But he does have this one skill that comes in handy occasionally, and sometimes only with the assistance of a human being. Which makes it less of a skill, more of a trapeze artist without a trapeze. 

Once he captures the flying critter, we put Jonah and the whale outside. There Thelonious releases his prey and plays with it like a grizzly bear might a legless, eviscerated camper. And this concludes Useful Things Our Dog Can Do.

Not Your Usual Frozen Cow Conundrum

This is a cabin in Conundrum Hot Springs, Colorado. Inside of this cabin is an unknown number of frozen cows -- cows who wandered in, then couldn't get out, then froze to death. I don't know who gets put in charge of a problem like this, but whoever is in charge of this problem is considering using dynamite to solve it.

May I suggest:

and

and

You remember that old mathematical equation:

c + C (3) - e + * = : ( C (3)

Cabin plus three cows minus an exit plus snow equals three sad cows.

Let's turn that cow frown upside down.

FC (3) + (WG+c) / b = : ) h (35)

Three frozen cows plus one Weber grill plus charcoal divided by barbecue sauce equal at least 35 happy humans.

Newsletter

April Fools was fun at the White House. You should've seen Joe Biden's face when the President convinced him the planet was out of Pop Tarts.

Dick Cheney is enjoying his new heart. It all happened thanks to Obamacare, which allowed him to stay on his parents' health plan.

Rick Perry is standing up for pink slime. Although it's not clear if he's talking about the gross parts of the cow, or if he's talking about the GOP.

Mitt Romney had a great Easter. He woke up right away and ate the head off of his chocolate Obama.

Cell phone thefts are on the rise. The other day Mitt Romney thought someone stole his phone, but it turns out he'd just left it at his fifth home.

Rick Santorum says Mitt Romney's numbers are inflated. But, come on -- who hasn't exaggerated the size of their delegates?

Bubba Watson won the Masters. He won the coveted jacket, but he has to get a few more delegates if he wants to win the matching pants.

A Pennsylvania nun says she was fired for reporting a priest's dirty magazines. The guy would've tried to pay her off, but have you ever tried to stuff money into a nun's habit?

A new study suggests that tax day may drive up fatal crashes. You try deducting line 52 from line 13 while you're going 65 on the highway.

A newborn baby was found alive in a morgue 12 hours after being declared dead. Oh, the wonders of a whiff of mushed up peas.

Charles Manson was denied parole earlier this week. Which, considering the cost of gas, is great news for Manson.

Things you can do with your mouth.

Wednesday was one of the best days of my life. I completed phase three of what I hope will be a many-phased process of doing gross things with my mouth.

You remember phase one:

And phase two:

Here's phase three:

Phase four won't involve this:

But phase four might involve this:

Thank God For Real Dentists

I spent a few years of my life visiting pre-dentists at the dental school, which is like fun science experiment time for the students, but like Auschwitz for the patients. Once I volunteered to stay for a whole day while students could poke and prod and gawk at my big teeth in my tiny mouth in exchange for a couple of free cavity coupons. Free power drill in your teeth -- hooray! One time a student jammed into my teeny weeny mouth a dental dam, which is like an oversized condom for your uvula, and caused my jaw to lock. Permanently open mouth -- hooray! All the times it took no less than three hours for some horrible sort of pain to happen in the pie hole portion of my face. Pain happening in the pie hole portion of your face -- hooray!

I have been enlightened.

This week I visited real life dentist and got my teeth cleaned in less than eight Harry Potter movies. My mouth was still made fun of for being extraordinarily small, but I ate it up. I was like, "Yeah, lady in a full-faced plastic ninja mask -- I have a tiny mouth!" Because it took her a mere Harry Potter montage to clean my teeth. And it wasn't that much more expensive. And I still got free toothpaste and a free toothbrush and a free box of floss and to look at a pile of bloody gauze balls afterwards. I am so freaking happy.

It's That Time of the Nieht When I Suddenly Change Topics

And start misspelling words whilst immortalizing them on my everlasting blog thingy.

I am in the middle of beer number two, which, for most people, is not so big a deal, but for a person whose body mass index is not on the index, those two beers are like a billiondy beers. I'm falling off my chair and throwing up onto the internet at the very same time.

I know that I have reached my drinking limit when I crack up upon reading the Aflac duck's Facebook posts. Which are not altogether terrible, but are also written by some dude whose job it is to be the Aflac's social networking aviary representative. I don't know if I put all of those parts of speech in the right order. So some guy is pretending to be a duck on the information super highway and writing about it. I am laughing at that. This, I think, is part of what it means to be an American.

This is the part of the drunk blog post where I change topics entirely.

Ever since I married my very special dude, I've considered and reconsidered what it meant for me to have changed my surname. I did it legally -- waited in the social security office, waited in the DMV line, waited in the government bonnet line, whatever. I did some serious waiting work to get it done. And I smelled a lot of urine on a lot of strangers' sweatpants in order to accomplish the task. So right after I got it done, I started reconsidering having done it. And now, because I'm not sure I'm ready to wait in all of those name-changing lines again, I've taken the urine scent-free step of changing my Facebook surname back to my original surname, which is still a surname that came from a dude. Whatever happens, do not let me invent a dude-free surname when I've had one and a half beers because, if you do, it will be Snerfblat.

Spooky-Looking Feet

***Warning: spooky-looking feet below***

My brother and I inherited many things from our father: kindness, sincerity, a 36-inch inseam, a love of old Volvos and beer (not at the same time). But also our most awkward-looking body parts. We have knobby knees and skinny legs and tiny mouths and Chief Crazy Horse noses. But I think the highlight of the genetic grab bag is our super creepy, extra bony, tentacle-toed feet. You want to humble a shoe salesman? Get a pair of these feet and go shopping for a pair of flip flops. Be sure to ask for the alien toe extension before he offers you a free pair of socks and begins to sob into his monogrammed polo. But, hey, weird feet -- I love you. Because, I don't know about my brother, but I can play Heart and Soul on the piano with my toes. And if that doesn't fill the tip jar, I take my shirt off and play Chopsticks with my third and fourth nipples.

Newsletter

Mr. Universe 1952 has turned 100. Everything looks good, although his sash is getting a little wrinkly.

Easter is just around the corner. You know Easter -- the day we celebrate the resurrection of the honey baked ham.

It's Spring. The flowers are blooming, the sun is shining, the sweater vests are melting away.

Dick Cheney is recovering from a heart transplant. The hardest part was keeping the deep fryer going while the doctor removed the old heart.

Alabama is considering a law that would make it more difficult for married people to get divorced. It's called the Hiring a Maid bill.

Newt Gingrich is now charging $50 for photos with him at his events. One hundred if you want one with him in a bunny suit.

Nine-pound Gambian rats are invading the Florida Keys. That's the bad news. The good news is they're all carrying trays full of pina coladas.

A Twitter prank that Justin Bieber pulled in Texas may lead to a lawsuit. It's something Justin should be concerned about, because in Texas, if you pull the wrong Twitter prank, you go straight to death row.