Newsletter

A Florida restaurant says the Virgin Mary has appeared on one of its walls. Add a fried egg to your hamburger and she'll show up for you later, too.

Fidel Castro warned that the world was on an "inexorable" march into the abyss this year because of climate change and the threat of nuclear war. Sounds like somebody got the Mayan kitty calendar for Christmas.

The world's thinnest smartphone has been released. It's so thin, it weighs about the same as the fork you have in your other hand during a romantic dinner.

A tourist survived a 365-foot plunge into a river when her bungee cord snapped. Her clean underpants, on the other hand, didn't quite make it.

Lindsay Lohan is in early talks to play Liz Taylor. Great news for people who've always wondered what Liz Taylor looked like without a shirt on.

Ryan Seacrest says he can't imagine life without "American Idol". Weird. That's exactly what hair gel said about Ryan Seacrest.

A Cookie Locator app has been made for Girl Scout cookie season. It's free, and you can download it directly to your waistline.

More than 4,000 parents have signed a petition to bring breast feeding back to "Sesame Street". That's fine, but can we please just keep the Hooter Hider on Big Bird?

The Kardashians are responding to rumors that Khloe is not really a Kardashian. Of course she's a Kardashian -- she's rich for no reason, she's famous for no reason, she gets news attention for no reason.

Murder has been knocked off the list of the top killers in the U.S. Well, it is Girl Scout cookie season, after all.

Hey, It's Erection Shirt Time! And Eddie Brill Thinks This Guy Might Have What It Takes.

You think I'm joking.

AND apparently, as of Thursday night, this fine gentleman had a girlfriend. I guess the good news is it's a shirt with a circumcised sausage on it, and Iran has nuclear capability.

Speaking of sausage, Eddie Brill books comedians for David Letterman's Late Show. And, according to this article, http://feministing.com/2012/01/13/guest-post-this-is-why-we-keep-talking-about-gender-in-comedy/, Eddie Brill booked one female comedian in 2011. Come on, Eddie. Just because a chick shows up for funny tryouts wearing a t-shirt that appears to be blank doesn't mean she doesn't have the hilarious engorged female genitalia part tucked in where you can't see it. Dudes.

Extra Annoying.

I love Snooze -- they make heavenly and creative pancakes, really delicious benedicts, and they put bacon in lots of things. But, just as a side note, this is what "adding avocado" to your Snooze meal for a buck fifty looks like:

If you ask your Snooze waitress for extra tomatoes, you get this:

If you ask your Snooze waitress for extra dog, you get this:

If you ask your Snooze waitress for extra hair, you get this:

For God So Loved the World That He Gave the Whole City of Denver a Tebow-ner

The whole city of Denver has a great big blue and orange hard on for Tim Tebow right now. I mean, that was a good game yesterday, but I think it's getting to be a weensie bit much. The blessed Broncos, the "Tebowing", the "miracle" plays, the constant urge to "believe" -- and the 3:16 correlation is the cherry on top. Or, if you're Tim Tebow, it's the cherry inside of your girlfriend. Oh, dang.

Come on, people. Obviously, if there's a God, and if this God is a football fan, he's definitely rooting for the Packers because at least with them there's cheese involved. And I think we can all agree that the eating of cheese is a holy sacrament.

I'd like to see the Patriots change their logo for the game against the Broncos on Saturday. In place of the patriot, I want a piece of toast with the image of Tim Tebow burned into it on every New England helmet. This way Football God won't know how to pick a side. Football God will see that the Patriots display reverence to Tim Tebow, the Chosen One, which will make it impossible for Football God to choose a team and force Football God to sit back, enjoy its nachos and a Dale's (hopefully Football God is a deity virtuous enough to at least drink a decent beer), and stay out of this one.

Your New Year's Resolutions Are Lame

Your resolutions:

Lose weight.

Exercise more.

Eat healthier.

Learn how to merge onto a highway.

Play "Words With Friends" less during funerals and while merging onto a highway.

This guy's resolutions:

Keep the remote closer.

Use less Pledge on the 180-pound tumor/laptop shelf/beanbag chair growing out of his leg.

Newsletter

Russell Brand is divorcing Katy Perry after 14 months of marriage. I hear problems started when the couple couldn't agree on the color of the divorce announcements.

Sarah Palin says she wants two of the GOP candidates to quit. What she doesn't know is it isn't the number of candidates that's making her eyes cross.

Kim Kardashian earned $600,000 for showing up to a New Year's party. There goes my resolution to not start off the new year totally depressed.

A seven-year-old Indian girl was murdered in a tribal sacrifice and her liver offered to the gods to improve crop growth. And you thought your new year started off a little slow.

A Maine man has been found guilty of burning down a topless coffee shop. Which totally blows the resolution of every other man in Maine to have more topless coffee this year.

A body was found on Queen Elizabeth's estate. See what happens when you put your elbows on the royal table?

Steven Tyler is engaged. I'm going to go ahead and call that "Mission Impossible 5".

Dunkin' Donuts plans to double the number of its locations. All part of its New Year's resolution to make America even fatter.

Starbucks plans to raise some of its prices. The good news is applying for a latte loan has never been easier.

Michele Bachmann's out of the presidential race. Which should give her some extra time to run for student council.

The Catholic Church is asking Catholic gays to not have sex. Let them get married, and maybe that will happen.

And So It Begins

If you haven't been Facebooking lately, you may not know that you are supposed to be having a happy new year. It is 2012, blog readers. Put a big fat smiley on the bottom of your face and start having a joyous new year already.

I spent my New Year's Eve with the feeling you get right before you throw up, but milder, and with no after-effect. You know how your mouth kind of gets tingly and your stomach starts sounding like the heater's kicking on? Then later Levi came home from the party I was supposed to be at and smelled like a whore I like to call dinner -- I missed out on tender, juicy brisket, and chocolate mousse. Poop. I did not miss out on that. The poop.

I also spent my New Year's Eve not getting paid $600,000, ala Kim Kardashian. You put your best ass on, show up at a party, drop a fourteen carat turd in the punch bowl, then go home and wait for your check to show up. That dirty hoe already ruined my resolution to never be crabby.

May I just say that I enjoy Leopold Brothers' Rocky Mountain Peach Whiskey? It's something that helped me write a letter to my neighbor whose dog beast frequently indulges in three hour long barking marathons. And since our walls are made of gingerbread and plastic siding, we can kind of hear that shit. It was a kind letter. A helpful letter. And Levi advised me, properly, I think, to not print it out on our shotgun-shaped paper. So there's that new beginning.

Everyone seems to think their 2011 was terrible. Which I'm starting to think is what happens every year. Which helps me understand why you never see anyone walking around before 1pm on New Year's Day. So, it's currently 9:54pm -- I guess good morning, everyone. And here's to a year that will probably be pretty okay, but that you'll end up hating enough by December 31st that you will say yes to the champagne keg stand and later get caught making out with a stranger's parakeet.