Saturday, November 29, 2008

Snatching Defeat From the Jaws of Victory.


Just watched my Georgia Bulldogs give away an assured victory to Georgia Tech. No doubt those idiots from Tech are ripping out pieces of our beloved Hedge as souvenirs.

Georgia was all over Tech in the first half. They were beating them liked they owned him. The second half? Not so much. It's as if we substituted our guys for the fourth-string team. Fourth stringers from a high school for the blind, that is. Yet another game where Knowshon Moreno rushed for fewer yards than we were penalized.

It makes me sick to my stomach. But, hey! Gotta Look on the bright side! Now that my stomach's been emptied, I've got a whole lot more room for Thanksgiving Day leftovers!

Next year.

Go drown your sorrows in a big bowl of

Of Human Bondage.

Last week, while my two sons were out with their grandfather, my youngest, Thomas, purchased a toy gun and handcuff set. Like any eight year-old boy, Thomas wants to be a policeman when he grows up. At least he does when he doesn't dream of being the next star football player for the Georgia Bulldogs.

I happened across Thom's toy handcuffs while cleaning up the family room yesterday. Looking at them had me thinking - like any 46 year-old boy might - 'why on earth would anyone find being handcuffed remotely sexy?'

The answer came to me a few minutes later while vacuuming. All adult role-playing involving bondage themes really boil down to one thing: the party that's being bound is lazy. That's right...lazy. Instead of admitting they're lame Lotharios, they tell their partner that they're into being handcuffed to the bedposts en flagrante. In this way they can blame their inability to reciprocate in any sensual manner on the hindrance of the hardware.

That's got to be it, right?

Yeah. Deep thoughts on a Saturday morning. Now you can do what I'm going to do...go enjoy the last weekend of regular-season college football.

And when you're done with that, go check out

Thursday, November 27, 2008

Two Turkeys for Thanksgiving.

I know. I'm in a rut. It seems all I can do is post these semi-silly riffs on motivational posters. Perhaps I'm conserving energy in preparation to digest that BIG Thanksgiving meal. But seeing how the college football regular season comes to a close this Saturday, I thought I'd post a few aimed at folks living in Alabama and Florida. Y'all suck.

I promise to get more creative for my next post. And, no, it won't involve poster art. In the meantime, I hope that you and yours have a wonderful Thanksgiving celebration. And, for those of you who live outside of the U.S. (and may therefore be unacustomed to our quaint holiday), please spend the rest of this day over-feeding yourselves.


Like art, humor is in the eye of the beholder. But is pretty damn funny.

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Motivation for the Final Frontier.

In yesterday's post I admit that I took the lazy way out. Instead of writing something pithy, I fell back to Photoshop to create a few 'motivational posters'. One of these posters had a Star Trek theme, the other played on my hatred of cats. Being somewhat of a Trekker (a fact for which you can confirm here), I thought today I'd share more Trek-related photos rendered like those lame office motivational posters that seem to be all the rage...that is if you believe what you read in Sky Mall is any.

Many thanks to the folks over at for providing some of these lines. You allowed me to be even lazier that yesterday!

Get of your lazy keester and go check out

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Phun With Photoshop!

My contribution to the slew of motivational/inspirational posters that are all-too-often seen in work environments:

Ho-hum...back to work.

And you can go head back to

Monday, November 24, 2008

Reading and Sh*t.

Recently I received an email from a woman who worked at Hachette Book Group, a not-so-diminutive publishing house which Americans may know better by their Little Brown marque. It seems this lady had read my blog (amazing in and of itself), and thought my blog was funny. Or, at least she thought it funny enough to think, "Hey! I should send this guy some of our humor books! If I do, perhaps he'll even write about them on his blog!?"

Well, call me a shill, but she did send the books, and I'll now write about one of them. After all, I used to review movies and wines, why not an occasional book? Now if only someone from Cunard would write to offer me free First Class accommodations on the Queen Mary 2! You can bet your patootey that this blog would be re-titled, "Cunard Is The Greatest Thing Ever".

Of the three books she sent to me, I've only had the opportunity to read one. It's titled, "Is it Just Me or is Everything Shit?" It seems that this is the Americanized version of a hugely popular book in the U.K. Or, at least it's popular enough that they've printed a Volume Two. I was drawn to the book for three reasons. The first being that I often think that much of modern society is a load-a crap...and my observations form the basis for quite a number of my postings. The second is that for the U.S. edition of this book (How do you shorten it? "I.I.J.M.O.I.E.S."? "Shit"?) the publishers called on the pen of Brendan Hay, a one-time writer for The Daily Show With Jon Stewart and The Simpsons, so I'm thinking to myself, "It's got to be funny." Lastly, I am, with very few exceptions (read: The Benny Hill Show, Are You Being Served? and No, Honestly) a fan of British humor. Having lapped up everything from Dave Allen to Monty Python, from Alas Smith and Jones to the Blackadder*, I imagined that this book would hit my funny bone.

Now, when you read the words "for fuck's sake", or "fucktard" there is one thing you can be assured of: the writers are British. Both terms are liberally sprinkled throughout the pages. So this book - while edited for a U.S. audience - still has plenty of humour. The observations are, for the most part, dead on. And, again, for the most part, their riffs on modern life are pretty damn funny. But the book is a lot like a Whitman's Sampler Pack. Some of the offerings are incredibly indulgent, while some are just not to my taste. That, and like the Whitman's, you best not consume it in one sitting...or it's going to make you sick. This book is best consumed a few bites at a time.

So, if you're looking for a stocking stuffer for that curmudgeon on your list, or looking for a good addition to your lavatory library, I'd suggest checking out this title. As for me, I'm going to sit here and wait until I get that call from Cunard!

*Blackadder is easily the funniest show ever to grace a television on either side of the pond. And before you go off saying, "Hey! That's not British! Rowan Atkinson is from Australia!" Let me just say this: "No he isn't, that's a popular misconception", or "Even if he was, it was broadcast on the BBC", or "Get an f-ing life". Feel free to take your pick

And now you can go off to with my blessings.

Saturday, November 22, 2008

You're Overdrawn on Your 15 Minutes, Lady.

This just in to our "I'm trying to milk and extra second more than my 15 minutes of fame" department. And, no - thankfully - I'm not talking about Sarah Palin or Joe the Plumber, but, rather, Ashley Dupré. You remember her...right? She was the call girl who's affair with New York Governor (and self-professed "Mr. Clean") Elliott Spitzer earned her her 15 minutes, and Spitzer a lifetime of shame. That and an eternity serving as blog fodder.

Well, Ms. Dupré was interviewed Friday night on 20/20 by Barbara Walters. Wow...a hooker being interviewed by a tramp? Talk about 'Must See TV'! Well, not for me...I was watching the Marx Brothers' A Night at the Opera with my boys. Much more entertaining. And Kitty Carlisle was hot back in 1935. At least hotter than Ashley Dupré.

For those of you who are wondering, "Who the f*ck is Ashley Dupré?" I salute you. And I provide this picture of her for your edification. I know what you're thinking: "Elliott Spitzer paid $4,300 an hour, and ruined his life for her?"

Everything about Dupré screams trash. I especially like that oh-so-tasteful tattoo she's sporting above her bikini line. I wonder what it reads? My guesses?:
  • You Must Be Taller Than This to Ride.
  • Exact Fare Required.
  • No Refunds.
  • Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter.
  • Slippery When Wet.
  • Inspected - USDA Skank.
  • Spitzer Was Here.
  • Thanks...Come Again!*
  • Objects Are Smaller Than They Appear.
  • Do Not Talk to Driver While Vehicle is in Motion.
*Can't take credit for thinking up this one. Thanks, Jack J. Bulkin!

There's no doubt thousands of Dupré riffs to be found on

Something About Nuts Falling From a Tree?

Have you signed up for Netflix yet? The Garretson family really loves this service. Flat fee, no driving to the video store, incredible selection...that's delivered to our door in 48 hours! Whoo-Hoo!

The boys really like Netflix, too. In two short months of membership, they've gone through all of the Goosebumps DVDs, as well as a number of Star Wars Clone Wars, Pokemon, get the picture. Trying to dredge up new titles for them to enjoy was getting downright difficult. Until now, that is.

Knowing that Jack and Thom share their dad's penchant for high-brow science fiction (Amie would argue that there is no such thing) and low-brow humor, I looked up one of my favorites: Mystery Science Theater 3000. And, as luck would have it, they've got scads of available titles! Wooo-Hoo indeed!

The first DVD I rented was one that included a series of shorts, including "Mr. B Natural". If you've seen it I don't need to explain how funny-slash-disturbing it is. If you've not seen it, I can't explain it to you. Sorry. Well, the boys laughed their tiny little keesters off! Jack wanted to know if I would buy the DVD from Netflix, but when I explained there were dozens of more MST3K (as we "Misties" call the show) titles to be had, he was all for sending it back and ordering more.

So far we've seen "Teenagers from Space" and "Santa Claus Conquers the Martians", both of which have been given two thumbs way up from our diminiutive, budding Siskel & Eberts. Right now I'm staying with the older episodes starring Joel Hodgson. When Joel retired Mike Nelson took his place...and about that time I started dating Amie. It's not that I don't like Nelson, it's just that I never gave him the chance.

Perhaps I will...perhaps I will.

It's fun sharing laughs with the kids...especially over something that I enjoyed so much as this show. Hey! That reminds me! It's almost Thanksgiving! The week of Thanksgiving Comedy Central ran and MST3K "Turkey Day" Marathon. That was until Comedy Central canceled the show.

Remind me to send a "f-you" letter to Jon Stewart.

And let me remind you to go check out

Friday, November 21, 2008

You've Got Mail!

Economic prognosticators have been all over cable TV lately, each trying to describe (in exceedingly boring detail, I might add) the how's and why's of our current economic doldrums. Each points to their own indicators of doom...from the ever-falling Dow Jones' Industrial Average, to cost of gas, to the length of skirt hemlines.

As if we needed yet another indicator that the economy is in the crapper, I've got my own. All you need do is check out your computer's mail box to realize that our economy sucks. Every day my inbox is stuffed with notices of sales, special offers and once-in-a-lifetime deals from all manner of retailers. I estimate I spend at least 20 minutes each day responding to these emails...all asking to be unsubscribed from future emails. I know, 20 minutes may not seem like a long time, but I've got college football to watch!

Here's my prognostication: 4th Quarter is gonna be a stinker. Think the Titanic, but without the band. And you know what that means? More store closures in January...or at least an avalanche of spammed email offers for me.

Have a great weekend! tastes a whole lot better than Spam.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

"Knowledge is Good." - Emil Faber

I couldn't let today pass by without making mention of a very special anniversary. It was 30 years ago today that saw the release of the movie, Animal House.

Wow. Thirty years ago?!

I well remember going to the theater back in 1978 to watch this movie, and it was love at first viewing. Over the last three decades I bet I've seen Animal House at least 100 times. Like Caddyshack, I doubt there is a American man in his mid-forties who's alive today who can't quote the whole movie verbatim, start to finish. Standing in my kitchen with my wife this afternoon, I was doing just that that...until Amie shot me that look which said, "Stop...right now...before I kill you."

Within a few years of the release of Animal House I myself became a fraternity boy...a Sigma Nu for those who care to know. Right above is a picture of me with some of my brothers shortly after we won the the Greek Week talent show. That's me on the far left, wearing plaid, which was a daily ritual for me those days, hence one of my many nicknames, Plaidman. Gawd, was my belly really that flat?

We did our best to emulate the boys from Delta House. From performing the Gator to Carolina Beach Music, to living on a diet that was 90% beer, we had fun. Ah, the privileges of youth.

So, Happy Anniversary, Animal House! 30th anniversaries traditionally call for pearls. I could make a joke about gifting Mandy or Babs with a necklace...but I'd probably get that look again from my wife.

Otis Day and the Knights are performing right now on!

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Adieu, Adios & Arrivederci!

After months of reflection, prayer and discussion, Amie and I have decided to pull the plug on Garretson Wine Company. I am sure that you can appreciate that this was not an easy decision to make...but it's one that - having now made it - we are entirely at peace with.

There were a number of factors which led to this decision. Firstly, as you know, the economy is in a shambles. That means it's gotten a whole lot tougher to sell high-end wines, and that those folks buying our wines aren't paying us in a timely manner. Secondly, the only way I've been able to keep selling wine is to constantly be on the road. While I've not been one to shirk from the title, "Road Warrior", it DOES get old...not to mention awfully expensive.

But more important than the economy is how this business has taken a toll on my family. Before my last big road trip, my son Thomas asked if I'd bring him home a big tube of Krazy Glue. When I asked him why, he responded, "So I can glue your feet to the ground, and you'll stop traveling so much." Ouch. Thom's now eight, and Jack is nine. It's simply not worth my missing their childhoods to go out every Monday and return home every Saturday.

So it is that we've decided that a change was needed. What will really determine our next step will be where I can find a good job. While my job search won't exclude the possibility of another position in the wine business, I am open to other opportunities. Certainly, if you are aware of any potential leads (in or out of the wine business) that you think I'd be ideal for, I'd sure like to hear from you.

And I'd like to ask you for your prayers for my family during the start of this new adventure. We value them...and your friendship!

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; because there is not effort without error and shortcomings; but who does actually strive to do the deed; who knows the great enthusiasm, the great devotion, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement and who at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly. So that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.”
- Teddy Roosevelt

Proud as Proud Can Be!

This seen at a stop light yesterday morning:

That's right. It reads, "Proud Parent of a Vegetarian". A vegetarian? Uh-huh. Does being the parent of a vegetarian really deserve bumper sticker status? Is it up there on a par with your kid making the honor roll at school? It is up there on a par with your kid serving in the Army? Really?

Just another sure sign that we live in an "every kid's a winner, there are no losers" society. Why don't you just placard your bumper with a sticker that reads, "Proud parent of a child who is a trendy, ashen face waif that listens to way too much Pfish, and who will soon go off to college to explore alternative lifestyles, too."

Guess that's too much reality for a bumper sticker, huh?

Time to go mine the funny at

Sunday, November 16, 2008

O'Reilly & Stewart: TAKE IT ON THE ROAD!

Last week Bill O'Reilly showed up on The Daily Show With Jon Stewart. Now I am sure that - when he's not in front of a Fox News' camera - Bill-O is a nice enough guy. The sad thing is, though, is that he's paid to spew self-righteous invective, Republican party talking points and hawk his latest book...all at the same time. Watching him shout at the top of his lungs his hatred towards Massachusetts Representative Barney Frank made me wince. It's not that I especially like Frank...but it was a great indicator as to how far mature political discourse has fallen.

I guess that's entertainment!

It was an interesting half-hour. The two each were (in their own way) a bit more civil than I had expected. And they both - at times - respected the other's opinions. It got me thinking that it would be great for these two to stage a series of debates across the U.S. You know...kinda like in the laid-back, town hall format that some politicians favor. But with out all the B.S.

I know I'd pay to show up.

There's far too much fractionalizing still going on in the American political arena. In the end neither side is served by it...the real ones who benefit are those who's special interests are served. I long for a congress that is more bipartisan, and a president who holds a real mandate, not the George Bush kind. Sadly, those days don't happen much...I think you'd have to point to the immediate post-9/11 times to as the last time it happened. Do we really need such a terrible act to occur for our leaders - and press - to see and act like we're all Americans?

I wanted to read something that was even remotely funny. Sorry, not today. Go check out for your chuckle fix.

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like...Summer.

Oh, where for art thou, Christmas?

While you're still five weeks away, the stores in San Luis Obispo are full of your decorative trappings. Nearly every parking lot light pole is festooned with green and red garland with bright, shiny bulbs. Even the airwaves are alive with the sounds of the holidays.

My son Thomas and I drove downtown yesterday, and we witnessed the sights and sounds of impending Christmas season nearly everywhere we went. We both found it hard to reconcile with reality. Perhaps it was because it was such a bright, sunny day. The temperature reached 90˚F. Or perhaps it was watching the folks downtown stroll about in shorts, bikini tops and sandals.

I dunno. This time of year usually has me missing snow. Or, barring that, at least temperatures that have people wearing long pants and jackets. Thom and I listened to Bing Crosby croon, "It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas" on the radio.

Not here it isn't.

Perhaps it's snowing over at You'll never know unless you go check it out!

Parked Potted Putting Person.

This was the view as I walked out my front door to get the newspaper. Notice anything? That's right...a car. A faded light blue Honda Prelude is parked in front of my house. And it didn't just get there this morning. It's been sitting there since 10am yesterday morning.

There were a lot of other cars parked next to it for most of Saturday afternoon. You see, we live less than 400 yards from the San Luis Obispo Country Club, and this weekend they play host to the 12th annual Straight Down Clothing Fall Classic. It's a pro-am tournament. I even hear that Freddie Couples was out there.

Now I love golf. I've been fortunate enough to play on some of the best links between Pebble Beach and Scotland. Every now and then I'll watch a tournament on TV. That usually means I'm visiting my parents in Atlanta, watching it with my dad. But, with the exception of The Masters, I've never had much interest in watching a golf tournament in person. Too much walking, too little to see. You're better off watching it on the big screen in the comfort of your living room. And that folding money you would have spent on tickets, gas and over-priced lukewarm Budweiser and stale hot dogs can buy a fella a whole lotta liquid libation.

Speaking of libations, I couldn't help but wonder: why did the driver of this car see fit to leave his auto overnight? Could he/she have hooked up at the tournament? "Hey! You're a John Daly fan?! Me too! Let's get it on!!" Perhaps...but I've got my doubts.

No. In all likelihood this driver got too drunk to drive. Too drunk to drive by watching golf. Say...maybe he/she is a John Daly fan!

Do people really get too drunk to watch golf? Is this typical? I can understand people getting drunk watching NASCAR. If you see me in the stands at Talladega, you can bet your ass that half my body weight will consist of Jack Daniels.

Tanked at the tournament. Drunk watching duffers. Potted viewing putting. Now that's a spectator sport I'd pay to see.

And would I pay for you to now check out Not likely...but you never know.

Thursday, November 13, 2008

Paradise or Cesspool?

So there I was - again! - listening to my XM satellite radio, when my attention was piqued by one of their commercials. This time they were shilling for Branson. As in Branson, Missouri. Time was Branson was a place where old nobody's who were too sedentary to live the life of a dinner theater vagabond went to die.

Not any more...if you're to believe the commercial I listened to. Branson is now the 'vacation capitol of the world". And don't just take their word for it...this statement has been vouchsafed by no finer a publication than BQ Magazine!

That naturally got me thinking...who or what in the hell is a BQ Magazine?

I was betting on it being "Branson Quarterly", but nooooo. There's no such a least according to my exhaustive internet search. From the results of this search I've whittled the possibilities down to four. And here they are:

The British publication, Business Quarter. Now to be fair, the Brits have been known to think Benny Hill is funny. They also think that the rocky shores of Bristol are on a par with - say - the a sandy stretch on Maui. So you know they're not always to be trusted as the arbiters of good taste. But I'm betting this is not the BQ Magazine that touted Branson.

Then there's a magazine known as Boomerang Quarterly. Holy Crap. You mean to tell me that there's a regular publication dedicated to the needs of boomerang enthusiasts?!? What a waste of time. But, come to think of it, so is throwing a boomerang.

Nope, this couldn't be the magazine I was searching for. The only boomerang action you're apt to find in Branson, Missouri is when you partake of the $8, all-you-can-eat seafood buffet. Like a boomerang, it's bound to come right back into your lap.

I found this Las Vegas-based BQ Magazine, too. It's for fans of the hip-hop scene. If faced to spend an hour leafing through these pages I'm thinking that Boomerang Quarterly would looking pretty good.

Naw. Too many rednecks in Branson. Too much love of fried cheese curds and Willie Nelson for this magazine to gush over the city.

I finally determined that the BQ Magazine talked about in the commercial just had to be this one. Beauty Queen Magazine. I imagine a lot of beauty pageants are held in Branson. It used to be that Miami Beach had these type of events locked up. But with Burt Parks now dead and gang-bangers running amok, Branson looks a whole lot safer than Miami.

So it would seem that the folks extolling the virtues of a Branson vacation want you to put your trust not in their commercial...but instead perpetually perky, smiling girls big on cup size but short on smarts. They know where the fun is...and it's to be had in Branson!

Now don't get me wrong. Branson, Missouri is a pretty exciting place. I've been there myself. It offers visitors with a whole heckuva lot to see and do. Why, just take a peek at some of the photos I took on my trip there:

Every window in the hotel I stayed at had its own breathtaking view!
It was especially breathtaking when the wind was in my face.

The hotel boasted some of the most modern amenities like this
outdoor pool/bathtub. This guy's name is Clem, and he's the owner.
He offered to loofah my back for me.

The state bird sure is easy to find...they're everywhere. Especially on you.

And all the friendly locals I met sure were colorful.
It helps if your favorite color happens to be red.

So, if you're planning that next great getaway, forget about Frankfurt. Adios, Antibes! Bon Voyage, Britain! Do what all smart-thinking beauty queens do...head to Branson, Missouri!

But, before you do, pack your bags and head right now to!

The Fathers of Invention.

So there I was, driving in my car yesterday, listing to my XM satellite radio. When the occasional commercial comes on, I usually surf to another station, or just tune myself out of the noise. I was doing the later when my subconscious picked up on the tone of one commercial. Perhaps it was the background music, maybe the voice. was the content.

The commercial featured a distraught young woman who was trying to determine who her father was. Turns out that the fine folks behind this commercial - Identigene - had just the an in-home DNA testing kit that could solve the young lady's dilemma, and determine her paternity.

First we had the in-home pregnancy test. By peeing on a stick, women could instantly find out if they were going to be visited by the stork. Now medical science has gone one better! For only $30 you can pop into the store and buy a kit that contains three for you, one for your mom and one for the alleged daddy. Simply obtain mouth cultures with the swabs (how I'd love to be a fly on the wall watching that), have all concerned sign the consent forms (provided), and send it back to their lab...oh, and with a check for $120 for processing.

Thank you, Identigene!

And you bet the folks at Identigene back up their product. Well, they will. Just cough up another $250 more if you want them to stand behind their product in cases of child support, divorce, and the like.

Don't you just love technology?

And don't you just get a chuckle out of the knuckleheads at

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

The Idea For Which I Make Millions, Part I

Like all good Americans, I succeed by the sweat of my brow. I am in possession of an entrepreneurial spirit equaled by the likes of Pullman, Astor, Bell and Edison. Relentless in my search for the next opportunity for riches to strike me like a lightning bolt, I'm always thinking.

Throughout my life - and the life of this blog - I've explored those get rich quick schemes, like the time I confessed my desire to make millions inventing names for college bands. Sadly, such dreams of glory have remained just that...dreams.

But now I think I'm on the cusp of Great Things. When I introduce my new confectionary gadget, the Pope-Pez™!

Think of it! It's candy! It's religion! Two great treats in one! Simply cock back the head of your Pope-Pez™ and get ready to receive absolution - and minty fresh breath - all in one!

And the possibilities are nearly endless. You can create a different Pope-Pez™ for every Pope. Collect all 265...from Saint Peter to Pope Benedict XVI! And it doesn't end there. We can make a different candy for different sins. Need to cover an adultery? Spearmint should take care of that. Using the Big Man's name in vain again? Sounds like you need a licorice-flavored treat. Murder someone lately? Well, friend, you need to pony up for a six-pack.

All I need for this brainchild is some money. About an even million should do it. Any backers out there?

Stop wasting time...go check out

Monday, November 10, 2008

Monday Morning Mystery.

Two months ago, Amie and I bought a new coffeemaker. It's a Krups...from Germany. And as anybody who's used a Shamwow knows, the Germans make great things.

All in all, I like my Krups' coffeemaker. That is except for the fact that the lip of the carafe has been purposefully designed to ensure coffee dribbles down its sides regardless of pouring angle. But it really is an amazing machine. It percolates my coffee just fine, makes pretty decent espresso, and - the most amazing thing of all - it performs a magic trick every time I use it!

Every morning I fill the carafe with water, up to the 10-cup line, and pour it into the Krups' machine. After adding the coffee, I press the 'start' button, and off it goes. The 'magic' is in the fact that somewhere in the system I always lose water. Quite a bit of water, two to three cups worth.

Where does the water go?

Now I can appreciate the fact that some of the water is absorbed by the coffee grounds. But three cups worth? Doesn't seem likely. Besides, I've inspected the grounds afterwards, and while they're certainly wet, they're not liquid.

To compensate for this little mystery, I find myself having to add one and a quarter carafe of water to the system just to brew a full pot.

Where does the water go?

The machine doesn't leak...I've checked for that. Somewhere, somehow my little Krups machine is retaining water. And I can figure out how or why.

It's the little mysteries in life that get me. is more stimulating than a pot of coffee!

Friday, November 7, 2008

Paging Miss Vernette...Again!

Those long-time followers of this blog may recall that I posted (which may be viewed here) about the striking similarity that Tiger Woods has to a one-hit wonder, movie starlette Tevaite Vernette.

That one post caused an avalanche of traffic to my blogsite...which I posted about here.

Having a few minutes to spare this morning, I checked out the traffic statistics to my site. All I can say is "WOW!" There are thousands of you out there who still have the hots for our little miss Vernette! Every listing of the top ten searches that lead folks to my blog have to do with Tevaite Vernette. And these searches come from as far away as the Ukraine, the UK and Poland.

I'm sorely tempted to rename my blog "Tevaite Vernette". Either that or prepare a screenplay I'll call, "The Bounty 2: Full Frontal Tevaite Vernette." It's sure to play big. At least in the European market.

And big laughs can be yours in the humor-blogs market!

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

The Show That Launched a Thousand Turds.

I've received a number of emails from those who feel that My Mother the Car - while bad television - is not even in the running for worst TV show ever. Some of you offered up your own suggestions as on shows you feel take those honors. One such email mentioned the spin-off show, Mrs. Columbo, as perhaps the biggest stinker to ever grace the boob-tube. True, this late-seventies whodunit staring Kate Mulgrew was truly terrible, but for my money, it doesn't rank amongst the truly rank.

But this email mention of Mrs. Columbo got me thinking: what one television show has been responsible for spinning off the most crap? Certainly Happy Days comes to mind. Anything staring Erin Moran is bound to suck. For my money, though, the largest pile of televised crap came from one of the most-popular series ever, M*A*S*H. While for the most part a very good sitcom, M*A*S*H serves as the ultimate proof that once Hollywood has a successful vehicle, you can bet your sweet bippy that they're gonna milk that cow until the teats offer up nothing but air. And then they'll try to sell the air!

All told, M*A*S*H offered up a total of five spin-offs, and with the exception of one (okay, maybe two), they all well and truly bombed. You doubt this assertation? Then read on, friend:

In 1975 Filmation Cartoon Studios wanted to get in on the M*A*S*H franchise, and offered up a Saturday morning kid's show called M*U*S*H. The show was a dog...literally. Cartoon dogs based in an army hospital in the great white north, this show featured characters like "Coldlips", "Colonel Flake", and "Major Sideburns". Ugh. Kids should have never been subjected to this crap.

What could be better than a television sitcom about an Army field hospital in the Korean War? How about a series about Nurses - with breasts - stationed in an Army field hospital in the Korean War! So it was that on January 16, 1978 CBS aired the pilot for The Fighting Nightingales. As if to underscore that viewers would get a lot of T&A with their jokes, studio execs cast Adrienne Barbeau in the lead role of Major Kate Steele! The review in Variety had it right when it wrote, " long yawn."

From 1979 until 1986 CBS ran a show called Trapper John, MD. While based upon the M*A*S*H character of the same name, there wasn't really any overlap. As a matter of fact, it was only in the pilot that another M*A*S*H character (Hawkeye) is mentioned. The show ran for 151 episodes. A lot of people liked this show. I was not one of them.

When it was collectively decided by cast and crew that it was time to pull the plug on M*A*S*H, there were four actors who would not go silently in to that good night. Harry Morgan (Col. Potter), Gary Burghoff (Radar O'Reilly), William Christopher (Father Mulcahy) and Jaime Farr (Max Klinger) decided that there was still gold to be mined in them thar hills, hence the television show, AfterMASH. It ran on CBS from 1983 until 1985. The fact that it ran for 30 episodes is proof that enough viewers believed in fool's gold.

1984 saw yet another troll in the M*A*S*H waters, this time with a pilot vehicle for Gary Burghoff, aka Walter "Radar" O'Reilly. Luckily for us, CBS never picked up the series...but did see fit to broadcast this pilot once as a 'Special Presentation'. Luckier still were those viewers fortunate enough to live on the west coast...where W*A*L*T*E*R was preempted by the Democratic National Convention. I'm sure that viewers their found Walter Mondale a helluva lot more funny than W*A*L*T*E*R.

Talk about a crap fest. Am I missing one? If so, please let me know.

And don't you miss out on!