From the mind of William Shatner???

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SCI-FI channel is advertising something called Fire Serpent. Some kind of flaming alien comes to earth thing.

Here's the fun part: It's being advertised as coming "From the mind of William Shatner."

My first thought was "Hey, Look. And it isn't even sticky!"

The second thought was "what the heck is that supposed to mean?" Does it mean that William Shatner actually thought of this and told somebody, "Hey how about an alien made of fire that comes to Earth? Maybe we could even blame them for global warming?"

Or does it mean that he said, "Hey, you guys come up with something that'll make the air and then pay me to put my name next to it?"

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm a big fan. I think the way he's re-invented himself is nothing short of remarkable. Seriously. I've never done anything as successful or largely loved as he has.

Instead I think it is sadly, more likely, that some marketing dweeb thought that this little tag line would help add some last minute credibility to the project.

The website doesn't tell us anything. And doesn't mention Mr. Shatner.

I notice that IMDB doesn't give him a credit, though. Bummer.

We are a weird species.

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This weekend more than a quarter million people have driven to Daytona, Florida. Spectators have arrived from all over the world, travelling in tens of thousands of vehicles: by car, by jet, by ship and boat and train, in order to watch 43 cars drive 500 miles in a circle, just as fast as they can go.

Several thousand folks more are involved in maintaining, supporting or reporting on, those 43 cars (44 if you count the pace car) and untold numbers of tow, media and other support vehicles.

And what do you figure? Somewhere along the drive there and/or back, 1 in 3?, 2 in 3?, WILL bitch about the price of gas?

We are a weird species.

BTW, average price of a gallon of gas in the United States today? $2.27

The third season of chocolate.

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Any true chocoholic knows that chocolate is seasonal.

The best season is Easter, with Christmas and Valentine's Day in the place and show positions.

First off, Easter is guilt free chocolate. If you're a Christian you have an entire holiday telling you that someone already paid the bill. Eat until you croak. Heaven awaits. And if you're not a Christian, then gluttony isn't a sin anyway. Dive in.

And besides, you get to go all "Ozzy" and bite the head off a rabbit.

Christmas is second because there is a larger variety of chocolaty goodness out there than there is on V-Day. But let's face it, biting the head off of Santa is just asking for it.

Valentines Day has to come in third. Sure, there's an abundance of chocolate, but there's also an over-abundance of those sneaky cream filled buggers. Who decided this was a good idea? And, if you didn't get chocolate from someone else, you have that "I'm standing in line, buying my own freaking valentine." thing going on.

They don't even have a chocolate Cupid to go after. Santa must have warned him or something....

You don't have the stones...

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Always thought that phrase was some kind of challenge. Turns out it's a blessing. (My thanks for all the kind thoughts and words.)

"I don't need to see you again for six months or so...." the nice Urologist said. Of course, this was shortly after he had his finger up my bum. (I feel so used.)

But, no more stones. Oh, and no, I didn't get to keep the beasties I passed. They got sent off to "the lab". Probably some weird candlelit crypt where drug reps gather around them and invoke spells to increase their customer base.

I was at a restaurant/sports bar in town a couple weeks ago. Some drug rep had just left about fifty product pens on the bar for bartenders/waitresses to hand out. I don't think they understood that it was for a heartburn drug.

I took two and ordered the barbecue.

Mom never told me there'd be days like this.

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Waking up next to naked in a sterile room with a guy that you recognize as the county coroner, and he has his hands on your balls. Just what is the proper etiquette for this one, Miss Manners?

It's a small town. The county coroner also pulls a regular shift at the hospital emergency room. (At least he's not the town mortician, now that would REALLY be a conflict of interest.)

Turns out that I have kidney stones. That, as of this typing, I haven't passed yet.

24 hours or so ago I thought I was going to die. An hour or so after that I was afraid I was never going to die.

Now, every woman I've come into contact with has said the same thing: "They say that passing a kidney stone is as close as a man can come to experiencing the pain of childbirth." Up until now I was convinced that women were the smarter side of the species. Now I'm thinking that may well be a load of crap.

There's not a guy on the planet that would intentionally go through this pain , ever. Any woman willing to go through this kind of excruciating pain a second time (third, fourth!!!) is far too insane to be allowed to breed.

While I'm waiting for this miniscule (millimeters in size, I'm told) "stone" to pass, they have me on some of the most wonderful drugs. I'm thinking that, if I can continue to tell them that I haven't passed the stone yet, I can keep myself in la-la land until after the next election. (George who???)

Sex vs. slacks?

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NEW YORK, Feb 5 (Reuters Life!) - For most women, the choice between sex and a new wardrobe is simple -- they go for the clothes.

Women on average say they would be willing to give up sex for 15 months for a closet full of new apparel, with 2 percent ready to abstain from sex for three years in exchange for new duds, according to a new survey of about 1,000 women in 10 U.S. cities.

Well that's just silly. What guy's going to pay a girl to NOT have sex with him?

"I... I'll buy you anything. New shoes... I'll buy you new shoes if you'll just NOT touch me right.. right...THERE. Ooohhh, yeah."

Excuse me. I need to get a towel... and my Sears card.


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OK, I had to come back and add to this after something was brought to my attention.

If I could PICK who the girl was? You betcha. If I could make the deal that my darling daughter didn't have sex with ANYONE for 15 months? I'd be a check writin' fool. I am in absolutely no hurry to be a grandparent. (I just want to get her through college.)

The Las Vegas Convention & Visitor's people are wimps!

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OK, not really. They are probably all very nice people.

Point is, how hard do they really have to work to get your business? When you think of doing something touristy, most folks naturally wander through a list of locations like Las Vegas, Hawaii, Florida, Paris, yada, yada, yada. Do they really need a heavily staffed tourism and convention bureau?

And then there's Nome, Alaska. The Nome Visitor's Center. These folks have to work HARD for your money.

Thought I'd help out with some catchy new slogans:

"There's No Place Like Nome."

"Beat the rush. Mush."

"You'll come for the snow, but you'll stay for the ice."

OR..., "If it's your last night on earth, don't you want it to last all year?"

Funny thing is, if you click on the link? One of these is real.

I've lost the remote and I don't care.

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I lost the TV remote, so I can't change channels. But it doesn't matter. It's on the Tube Channel.

I can count the number of things on TV that I would readily endorse on one hand; two hands, but folks would think I was flipping them off.

But I love me some Tube Channel!

Remember when MTV was good? That's the Tube Channel.

No VJ's. No "reality shows". No BS. Just music videos. Videos from artists from now to then and back again. It apparently is the creative child of Les Garland, one of the founders of the original MTV.

Don't get TubeTV where you are? I am sooo sorry.

I'm reminded of the old radio slogan: "Can't hear us from where you are? Move, baby!"

Oh, for those who are about to rattle their keyboards at me and tell me to get off my fat couch and go change it manually? I can't. The buttons are broken. They were the innocent bystanders of a thrown book. I came in and Bill O'Reilly was on the TV and it startled me. Bugs said it best: "What a maroon!"

Drop a Dime, Free this guy's blog

A blogger in Illinois, lonetreeontheprairie, is holding his blog for ransom, for a good cause, Special Olympics. I didn't think of it first; wish I had. (Probably just as well since his gets a lot more viewing than this one does.)

So, I'll send you his way, in hopes that you drop a bit of change his way, for the athletes in Illinois.

Selah!

Vote with your, ummm feet?

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According to Salon Magazine here in the states, and the Metro site in the UK, women's mannequins are getting bustier. According to one of the articles, with quotes from a mannequin maker guy named Wang (insert your cheap shot here), the mannequins are intended to reflect the increasing number of women who have had breast implants surgery. Haven't met a lot of women who volunteered for the DDDD implants, but hey, I don't get out much.


Oh, and by the way, the FDA just recently re-approved silicone for breast implants. No indication that anyone bothered to make them safer than the ones that killed and maimed so many women in years past.

Now, I've always been a big fan of breasts. Never wanted to own a set of my own, you understand, just a big fan... (as a teenager I had a dream of being a connoisseur, don't you know? ba-da-bump-bump)

But, I've never really been a fan of enhancement for enhancement's sake. (Never agreed with the idea of toupee's either.)

Breast enhancement always struck me as a "dummies for Dummies"" kind of an idea.

And ain't it funny how karma works? Now I have a daughter. Once when she was twelve, and we were in the mall? It took everything I had, and the restraining glare of Darling Bride, not to go medieval on a couple of young turks that I caught ogling her.

Fortunately, the Golden Child has always been smarter, and usually saner, than me. God, how I hope she stays that way.

Last thought on the subject comes from David Wilcox, from his song, "Boob Job":

"You know, silicone is permanent
Even after you have passed
When the rest of you has faded
In some box under some stone
Yeah you'll still have your silly cones....
Balanced on your bones.

Boob job, good god, treat her like a man-made thing?
No..."

OK, I lied. The thought after the last thought:

In the Salon article the company founder said that she looked at doing "enhanced" male mannequins. But not enough people were interested.

Just how whipped am I?

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Actually, not so much. (And probably not as much as I'd like to be, but that's a different conversation.)

I would, however, probably like to blame what will be on my TV during the Super Bowl on being a humble house hubby. (It's kind of like a house elf, without the black sock. Like Dobby's uncle, the one they don't talk about.)

What's going to be on has "Bowl" in it. Does that count?

Puppy Bowl III -- From the Animal Planet. You can learn more about it here if you aren't already familiar with this odd phenomena of cult cuteness.

Actually, I just don't have any interest in football this year. I haven't watched a game all year. And, comes the Super Bowl, I'm more interested in the commercials and the halftime show. And, we can catch those online.

Apparently our house isn't alone, though. If you want to believe this Wikipedia entry, the Puppy Bowl was the most watched show on cable opposite the Super Bowl last year, some 5 million viewers.

Which means that, although it's not mentioned in the Wiki article, right now there are some people placing bets on which dog will "win". Heck, there's probably a line available on which dog will poop first and draw the first flag.

Is any one else disturbed that I know that a dog pooping is why a flag is thrown?

God.... I am SO whipped....

Wonder if I can get a dime down on the dachsund?