According to our stats, the most popular google term that brought people to my site is "cleavage."

In the last month, 26 people have come here because they are interested in cleavage. Not too remarkable, until you put the word into google and come up with 1,610,000 matches.

I'm assuming visitors typed in "cleavage" into the popular search engine and then hit "random link" and came up with SOD.

That means that, last month, 61923.0769 people (give or take) in the world typed "cleavage" into google and hit random.

The question is, do I need a hobby?

PS--one person came to my site looking for a "jaunty skeleton".


In other news, the new Grand Theft Auto is out and it's much better than life.

   [ POSTED BY Steve Johnson @ 6:28 PM ] |

I've carefully weighed the merits and viewpoints of both political parties and candidates, carefully scrutinized public opinion polls and contemplated the motivations of both parties and have reached the following conclusion:

People are voting for Bush just to be dicks.

   [ POSTED BY Steve Johnson @ 9:28 AM ] |

I love my friend Mike D'Alonzo with the kind of love only two men who lived in a roach-infested firetrap of an apartment in Boston can share.

I love Mike D'Alonzo with the passion and energy of a thousand white hot burning suns.

Mike D'Alonzo, shine on, you crazy diamond.

   [ POSTED BY Steve Johnson @ 8:49 AM ] |

Unemployment is interesting. I've decided that only squares have jobs.

I'm having trouble, though, not letting days get away from me.

I went out to lunch with avante-garge journalist Jeremy Rosenberg. And then we decided to watch the ballgame. And the next thing you know, it's 11 at night and another day has passed and nothing is accomplished.

The lesson of the day:

If the Boston Red Sox can come back from 3 games down to earn entrance to the World Series, anything is possible for all of us.



Also: Yesterday, I went to the Peterson Automotive Museum. I'm not much of a car guy, but the Peterson collection of French, art deco influence autos from the the 30s and 40s was unreal. I want to have sex with these cars.

   [ POSTED BY Steve Johnson @ 11:00 PM ] |

In honor of the exciting baseball confrontation between the Yankees and the Red Stockings, Jeremy Rosenberg has created the following:

HOW THE BOSTON RED SOX WILL LOSE TONIGHT’S GAME SEVEN
AGAINST THE HATED NEW YORK YANKEES IN A PREDICTABLY
COMIC-TRAGIC FASHION THAT LEAVES NEW ENGLAND RESIDENTS
FORLORN YET HOPEFULL


I. Red Sox score a run in the second inning and take
an early lead. President Bush flies in on fighter jet,
declares “Mission Accomplished.” Final score: Yankees
6, Red Sox 1.

II. Orlando Cabrera – Orlando Cabrera! – breaks his
bat while hitting a three-run homer. Cork, superballs,
cats-eye marbles, stray quarks from MIT’s Laboratory
for Nuclear Science, and the ashes of Christopher
Reeve all tumble out of bat. Cabrera called out.
Yankees 4, Red Sox 3.

III. David Ortiz mistakenly placed on terrorist
watchlist. Arrested by NYPD officers in riot gear.
Shipped to Guantanamo Bay, misses game. Yankees, 8-5.

IV. Manager Terry Francona wants first-sacker Kevin
Millar to experience the thrill of victory, leaves
veteran in game in bottom of tenth inning. Keeps
defensive specialist Doug Mientkiewicz bench. Mookie
Wilson hits a ground ball that goes through Millar’s
legs. Ray Knight scores winning run. Yankees 6, Red
Sox 5.

V. Pedro Martinez takes mound in seventh inning. Time
is called and a telegram delivered with DNA results
from a paternity test. Yankees are his daddy. Pedro
flustered. Yankees 14, Red Sox 11.

VI. New political poll released during sixth inning
shows Kerry down five points to Bush. Sox go into
funk. Yankees 5, Red Sox 0.

VII. Jesus Christ the Messiah and Savior returns to
Earth and Yankees sign him. Batting in Ruben Sierra’s
spot, Jesus goes 3-4 and walks twice. Curtis Leskanic
hits Christ on the right knee. Kenny Lofton pinch runs
and scores from first on a double. Yankees 3, Sox 2.

VIII. In the bottom of the 17th inning, overworked Sox
closer Keith Foulke’s arm falls off, like Dave
Dravecky’s did in 1989. Foulke’s arm flies to home
plate holding baseball and Miguel Cairo hits it all
out of park. Yankees 9, Red Sox 8.

IX. Red Sox bring a good luck seagull from Boston
Harbor. Yankees bring Dave Winfield and he kills it.
Yankees 23, Red Sox 6.

X. Johnny Damon pulls groin doing naked pull-ups.
Other Sox pull groins watching Damon doing naked
pull-ups. Don’t ask. Yankees 8, Red Sox 6.

XI. Ruben Sierra hits walk-off homerun. During
clubhouse celebration, champagne splashes his face and
melts his skin, revealing a cyborg. BALCO, Gary
Sheffield happy to be out of spotlight. Sierra runs
for governor of California. Yankees 5, Red Sox 2.

XII. Derek Lowe pitches Sox to 5-3 lead in the eighth
inning. Manager Francona keeps a tiring Lowe in the
game and Yanks rally to win. Francona fired and
replaced next spring by…John Kerry. Yankees 6, Red Sox
5.

XIII. Boston loses handily. During game, The Jimmy
Fund, the Sox-sponsored charity, announces a cure for
cancer. Nobody cares. Yankees 10, Red Sox 2.

XIV. Manny Ramirez pelted with a car battery thrown
from Yankee Stadium stands. Replacement Gabe Kapler
hits into bases-loaded unassisted triple-play. Yankees
2, Red Sox 0.

XV. Mariano Rivera constructs electrified fence to
keep NYPD bomb-sniffing dogs from urinating in
visiting team’s bullpen. Ramiro Mendoza and Alan
Embree electrocuted. Yankees 7, Red Sox 3.

XVI. Never mind all the above. The Red Sox win handily
tonight, advance to the World Series against the
Houston Astros. Roger Clemens throws two no-hitters
against them. Sox lose in seven. Better luck next
year.

   [ POSTED BY Steve Johnson @ 4:30 PM ] |

If you haven't been following the Bill O'Reilly lawsuit, you're missing out on a lot of fun. There's something infinitely statisfying when a guy who gets all bent-out-of-shape about morality turns out to be a perv. (and judging by the legal papers, O'reilly's a particualry creepy perv, too.)

Slate posted an interesting piece yesterday on O'Reilly's porn obsession and his history of denouncing dirty movie stars while using them to boost his show's ratings.

Also, here's an excerpt from an interview written by my, uh, friend, Stephen Ochs, where O'Reilly's name gets tossed around by adult actress Calli Cox. She'd just appeared on his show to promote a series of porn movies, and because they were shot on a college campus, Bill O'Reilly had an "I am so outraged!" hook for her appearance. The interesting section:

"So was Bill O'Reilly an asshole, or what?" I ask.

"You know, I've watched his show, and I can't say I'm a fan of him by any means, but he's usually a lot more difficult with people than he was with me."

"Did he try to pick you up after the interview?"

"No, thank God." Calli laughs. "But before the show, his P.A. said to me, 'Is there another last name he could use for you instead of Cox? Is there another name he could hyphenate it with or anything? Because he doesn't want to say that.' So I said, 'No, I want to hear him say 'Calli Cox.'"

The guy's afraid to say "Cox" on the air, but he's okay with using a vibrator on himself while talking to an employee... hypocrisy rules!







Here are some photos of Calli Cox for you to enjoy...without the annoying moralizing.

   [ POSTED BY Steve Johnson @ 1:02 AM ] |

I get all choked up at weddings. Like I'm a girl or something.


Here's the bride and groom (Paul and Angela Hungerford) the moment they kissed and became a married couple.


The bride:


The friends and the familes and the well-wishers and everyone danced and drank wine, as Paul and Angela jetted off to Hawaii for their honeymoon.


The after-reception party was held in this space age bachelor pad:




Best wishes, Paul and Angela.

   [ POSTED BY Steve Johnson @ 11:29 AM ] |

It's not that leftist political dogma can't be made into compelling, amusing art. Check out Pirates and Emperors, a parody of those 70s Schoolhouse Rock cartoons that paints the United States as an evil empire no better or worse than our scruffy enemies.

Notice how it's partisan, biting and intelligent, all at once? That's what I dig.

Of course, I prefer the original Schoolhouse Rock parody, Conspiracy Rock, (official selection of the 2000 Sundance film festival) because I co-wrote it and crayoned many, many of the animation frames. (This was back in the early 90s, before we had fancy computers and internets to help us create and distribute little comedy movies.)

Speaking of the pre-internet, Pirates and Emperors was linked at boingboing.net today, as was the website for the film BBS: The Documentary, a nostalgic look back at the pre-Internet directed by Jason Scott, who, coincidentally, did the animation for Conspiracy Rock.

It all comes full-circle.


ALso, I just finished a telephone interview for a new job. I'm sure it will be horrible if I'm hired.

   [ POSTED BY Steve Johnson @ 1:58 PM ] |

So I sometimes get angry at the self-righteousness of my fellow Liberals. Click here to read my vitriolic, childish review of Sacred Fool Theater's Dubya 2004.

   [ POSTED BY Steve Johnson @ 9:35 AM ] |

A SUSPENSION OF DISBELIEF DOT NET WORLDWIDE EXCLUSIVE

Avante-Garde Journalist Jeremy "JR Starr" Rosenberg traveled to the Mojave desert last week to witness SpaceShipOne's historic second space flight. The 10 million dollar prize Ansari X-Prize was won, history was made, etc. Here's the words, from a great literary genius:



St. Eve,

When the Earth ends, and we all trek to Mars, you will
boast, I was there, mang. From Day One. T-Minus minus
day one, in double negative nomenclature. Everybody
who is everybody gathered to watch mr. Space Plane go
high. Rosi, me, the cable access cat from Victorville
with the O2 cannister and the tube. Gene Simmons.
Long-locked Richard Branson. Sir Richard. Paul Allen,
your old pal.

Richard Branson. Sir Richard. Not the type to put on a
spaceshipone baseball cap. Paul Allen, yes, comuter
guys will wear the cap.

The house across the street is for sale. $559,000.
Priced to move. You and Paul Allen should buy it.
Build your laboratory.

Let me draw for you the contrails of the three space
plane chase planes.

_______________________________________
________________

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

The top one is the x-3; then the beachcraft; then the
alpha jet.

The White Knight mothership looked like this:

_
_
___________+
_
_

no, really it did not. Not al all. Let’s play avatar.
I’ll do the solo from that karoake-san song.

I wrote down some times for you. Six forty-nine a.m. =
lift off. Seven oh-two a.m. = mothership and a chase
plane (@@@@…) overheard, a little to the west. Seven
twenty a.m. = 41k feet high. Eight fiteen a.m. he
landso. Strike up the band.

You oughta join a volunteer brass band. Stirring y
fulfilling. Good costumes.

Everybody golfs. Golf metaphor. Johnny Cash Burt Rutan
said to ramrod pilot: keep your head down and swing
smooth. When pilot landed, Johnny Cash Burt Rutan
said, nice drive.

Yourr fellow libertarians were out in force. I have
many anti-NASA, anti-fed quotations.

You would note: like the newspaper did, feds paid 3.9
mills to redo Mojave runway. You would further: ramrod
pilot trained by u.s. navy. Air traffic control system
= federal. National anthem played three times by your
band, not the don’t tread on me song.

Pilot, upon landing: “I thank god that I live in a
country where this is possible.”

Pilot, reflecting on reaching 368,000 feet altitude:
“We might have gotten to 370 if the mother-in-law
hadn’t spilled coffee on me this morning.”

Space tchockhes: Win ten mills, three adults
passengers requireds. In lieu of fleshes, equiv
ballast permitted. Person effects went up, then:
American flag, bag of candy (to film commercial, I
believe), model of space ship, ashes of dead mother
(true), a token to give to the federal aviation
administration. Don’t know what else. Probably print
outs from your blog. And a laser beam gun to fight off
the aliens.

The spaceship had ads painted or stickered on her
side. Like your nascar. Scaled composites, space ship
one a paul g. allen project, virgin galactic, x prize,
some auto race, mebbe m&ms and maybe seven-up soda. I
can’t guarantee them two ultimates.

The labor advocate you pleased: Burt Rutan says he’s
splitting his half of the $10 miliion x prize reward
with all of his employees.

Inspirational quotation, de ramrod pilot: “It
culminates when the motor shuts down and you realize
you’re no longer encumbered.”

Rosi was cool. Scolded some punko got in his shot. The
O2 dude, his name was cosmo. He said a woman with dark hair was looking for us. Probably Gene Simmons.

See you in the sub-orbits. –mr. Mojave Don’t order the peanut butter burger at the voyager restaurant. The omelette is fine.


_END_

   [ POSTED BY Steve Johnson @ 11:50 AM ] |

Dumb Nonsense About the Vice Presidential Debate!

I'm way too ignorant to have a real opinion about tonight's vice presidential debate, but I still want to punch John Edwards in the face. I'm not sure why, exactly, but there's something in the way he carries himself that screams, "Please, assault me!" He didn't' pay attention to the questions and didn't seemed particularly prepared, as if he was just breezily winging it up there, like a popular kid in high school counting on his straight, white teeth and new clothes to win the class presidential election.

On the other hand, Cheney is an inhuman monster fueled by pure malevolence and hatred.


Cheney can't even talk without snarling. There's so much anger roiling right beneath the surface of his flimsy old-man skin, I was concerned for Edwards' safety. I was afraid Cheney would lunge across that debate table and literally tear him to pieces. (Slow Fade Down on a blood-satiated Cheney squatting on the floor and gnawing on Edwards' femur while grunting loudly.)


Did you see the way Cheney's head changed color throughout the debates? It was pink, then purple then an unholy red. He has a mood-head. And did you see the look on his face? You could practically feel the spittle spraying from his lips through the television.


"George Bailey, you once called me a warped, frustrated old man."


Toward the end of the debate, Cheney said, "I'm somewhat familiar with the problems of people." Think about that: "The problems of people." That was Cheney admitting he isn't actually human.

Conspiracy theorist David Icke posits that Cheney is descended from lizard people, but that's crazy talk. He's obviously a cyborg, built of alien-electronics stolen from Area 51 and given life from the supernatural energy of the blackened souls of a thousand serial killers.

Even though Cheney is the embodiment of all evil, he still won the debate. But narrowly, and boringly. Cheney's evil isn't enough to hold my interest.

Debates are dull without without George W. Bush's crazy antics. Bush is so remarkably foolish, so obviously intellectually unfit for his job, and in so far over his head, that watching him speak is inherently suspenseful, like watching someone's first attempt to defuse a bomb.

   [ POSTED BY Steve Johnson @ 7:29 PM ] |

I'm looking forward to tonight's Vice Presidential debates. I'm hoping Cheney's skin will flake off and his chattering, supernaturally animated robo-skull will be revealed at last.

I hope his opening statment is: "Suck it, you little punk. I'm 118 years old. I've had 67 heart attacks and your niece is tied up in my basement right now. So let's DEBATE, faggot."

   [ POSTED BY Steve Johnson @ 1:26 PM ] |

I saw I (heart) Huckabees last night. It was a funny, thoughtful movie in which Jason Schwartman hires an existential detective agency to investigate the signifigance of a coincidence. So I'm going to tell you about Jeff Goldblum.



Jeff Goldblum wasn't in the film, but we ran into him in line at the theater. We were trying to switch our tickets from the sold out 7:30 show to the 8:00 show, and Jeff G. and his girlfriend were trying to get into the earlier show. Goldblum used his celebrity to avoid the tremendous line. He found a manager, we made the ticket-switch and everyone was (relatively) happy.

This was the 2nd time I've seen Jeff Goldblum. The first was at some club in Hollywood called "The Three of Clubs" (I think.) We were there because a friend had a visitor in from out of town, and the tourist-pal wanted to have a Hollywood style evening. Jeff Goldblum's jazz band was playing this night, and that seemed like a pretty Hollywood experience.

It was, too, but not in a cool, old-school Hollywood sense. More like 65 thousand million trendy wannabe-agents wedged into a dark, too-hot club. The line at the bar was 7 deep, and everyone was self-consciously yelling into cell phones. When I finally fought my way to the bar, my drink was watered down and cost 11 bucks. I guess I'm just not very cool, because I wanted to leave right away.

Then Jeff Goldblum's band took the stage. They played jazz standard, and all the musicians were excellent players...except Jeff Goldblum. He's a terrible keyboard player, and he butchered some standards, and then he saw someone he knew in the crowd and left the stage in the middle of "Take the A-Train" to talk to him/her. He spent the rest of his set alternating between socializing and haphazardly banging on a keyboard.

See, the whole evening, the whole idea of having a jazz band and playing in this club, was just a set up so Jeff Goldblum could socialize AND have a bunch of strangers pay attention to him. That's fine; no one had a gun to anyone's head, and the bar's customers seemed to enjoy their role in the celebrity worship drama, but I don't like crowds (especially this crowd) and wanted to leave right away.

So I walked over to the nearby Frolic Room, a dive bar on Hollywood Boulevard with a good jukebox and a lot of alcoholics. I struck up a conversation with a guy in an ill-fitting gray suit. He was very, very drunk, and he looked at his watch and told me he had a plane to catch in 20 minutes. Then he ordered another vodka (it only cost 4 bucks) and told me he was a salesman. About an hour passed, then he looked at his watch and said, "I have a plane to catch in 20 minutes."

It doesn't really have anything to do with Jeff Goldblum or anything else, I guess, but you should go see I (Heart) Huckabees.

   [ POSTED BY Steve Johnson @ 8:34 AM ] |

I enjoyed watching the debates on television, especially the part where George Bush took off his pants.

I liked Bush's references to the Moolahs in Iran too, because it made me think of the career of professional wrestling superstar The Fabulous Moolah.


We all know Moolah is a formidable opponent in the squared circle, but now we know she's an opponent of freedom and our American way of life.

I feel Bush's determination to rid the International community of The Fabulous Moolah (and her dreaded signature move, The Schoolgirl Rollup) will win him points with midwestern swing states like North Fartolina.

   [ POSTED BY Steve Johnson @ 9:59 AM ] |