Man-Date CHAMPIONS on the Fox 2 Morning Show!

Here's a clip. Jason and I ended up dominating. He won the air guitar competition, and I won the corndog eating contest.

Jason and I won bro-date VIP passes to the advance screening of "I Love You, Man" tonight.

Today's Titillating Tidbit.

One in three children eat fast food EVERY DAY.

Titillating tidbit = kid with man tits.

14-year-old Author of 'Define Conservatism'

This kid is great. Rush Limbaugh in training.

Mmm....fart on me, baby!

Apparently, scientists, probably in some sort of gross experimental orgy, discovered that a molecule contained in farts makes rats horny. Some day, they hope to use this as an alternative to Viagra.

Getting up, au naturel, I guess... But, really, who could prefer a pill? Brilliant work, guys.

A Great New Pic.

The last enemy combatant being held on American soil is Ali Saleh Kahlah al-Marri, an alleged sleeper cell agent for al Qaeda. He was arrested in Peoria, Illinois in 2001, and has never stood trial or been convicted of a crime.

However, in an act of good will, ostensibly inspired by our new President, they have allowed al-Marri to pose for a photo for his Facebook profile. This is the first photo of him allowed to be released since his arrest.

Please friend him. He must be lonely after being held in complete isolation for five years.

So, Maybe I Cried A Little...

Sharing deliciousness.

Josh Delman's blog. Although, the proprietary format is frustrating. I haven't yet figured out how to interact with it.

Totally Rubbish.

Only 6% of Madagascar's trash and industrial waste is collected and disposed.

The Green Room

Ron Jeremy walked into Graham Chapel from a side door, into a small room adjacent to the filled, murmuring auditorium. He was unshaven and sported a blue Hawaiian shirt that said "Molokai."

"Where's the green room?" he immediately demanded. Green room is showbiz jargon for the place with food and drink to placate performers as they wait to go on. After being informed that he would be required to walk out in front of the audience to get back to the eats, he plainly protested:

"It's about surprising them. I walk on stage and everyone applauds. Hey! It's Ron! What are they gonna do? Meh...we already saw him five minutes ago. It ruins the excitement."

Someone pointed out he could access the green room from outside, abating his growing frustration. During this exchange, I was standing...waiting, impeccably dressed in my pink shirt/tie and pressed black suit. Mostly, I was excited to be proxy to this exchange. Certainly, this was a problem that would arise exclusively amongst celebrities and fame. Not just everyone required a green room.

Not that the green room was remarkable. A small room with two chairs. The offerings? Eight bottles of Fiji water (It DOES taste better, doesn't it?) delicately arranged in two rows of four. And, a Schnucks-bought plastic tray with an array of placidly unoriginal raw veggies and some fashion of dip. Surprisingly, the unimpressive assortment wasn't underwhelming. I found myself reveling in the privileged status of those, myself, who would require this room. It exudes exclusivity, only to be occupied by the most prominent few and their encompassing entourages. The glimpse of show business was enticing, leaving me with a lingering high of self-importance. I've made the decision. I will, one day, once again require a green room.