The Best Whatever Of 2009

Many bloggers are posting lists of their ten favorite movies, music, books or TV shows of the year. For me to come up with ten of anything, I'd be including about 60% filler. In that spirit, we at words...words...words... present to you:

WWW's 10 Best Whatever Of 2009

10. Winning Firecrotch Of The Year at The Pop Eye
Because being handsome, single and charming is not enough for me. I must be told by strangers that I am marginally funnier than other funny bloggers.

9. Attending the NFC Championship Game
Despite such things as driving six hours and spending $200 on a ticket to watch my Eagles lose to the Arizona frickin' Cardinals, spraining my ankle, and getting jumped outside the stadium, it was a grea...you know, this probably should be in the "Worst Whatevers of 2009" list.

8. Being Employed For 11 Months
Which is about 9 more months than I was employed in 2008.

7. Eating at Pizzeria Mozza
Mario Batali, if you weren't a man and also constantly handling fish, I would kiss you.

6. Up In The Air and Inglourious Basterds
Don't make me pick. I want a job that keeps me on the road 300 days a year like George Clooney's character has. Unless it gets me captured by Nazis like Brad Pitt's character.

5. Groupon
I'm not getting paid for this. It's just that awesome. Every day you get emailed an offer for a crazy good discount on a restaurant, retail store, attraction or service in your city. If enough people agree to buy it, the deal is on.

4. Texts From Last Night
For when you need to know that other people have lives more depraved and horrific than yours.

3. Taking My Nephew To The Movies
Watching him and a theater full of other kids inexplicably enjoy what I spent the last year working on was very gratifying. And also a reminder that little kids are stupid.

2. Winning My Fantasy Football League (for the third time in six years)
What else earns you bragging rights over nine of your friends, gives you an excuse to watch as much football as you want in the name of "research", and nets you $300?

And the Single Best Thing about 2009 is...

1. This:



I did not laugh at anything harder this year. I want to buy a hamster and name him Rodney Stanger. Enjoy!

Christmas Throwdown!

Scoffers always contend that professional athletes are selfish children who don't care about anyone but themselves and their own egos. As will be amply demonstrated, some athletes have virtually no ego (or self-respect) at all. Let's examine the holiday greetings offered by the Cincinnati Bengals and the Detroit Pistons and see who comes out on top! Are you ready for a throwdown??



Song: "Santa Claus Is Coming To Town"
Performed By: Cincinnati Bengals
Musical Skills: Nearly competent
Enthusiasm: Jolly
Best Thing: Orange Santa hats
Worst Thing: They're the Cincinnati Bengals
MVP: #52 and his spine-tingling falsetto
Suggested Album Title: Grab A Tiger By The Tail...And It Will Sound Like This




Song: "Jingle Bells"
Performed By: Detroit Pistons
Musical Skills: Nonexistent
Enthusiasm: Similar to that of people singing at gunpoint
Best Thing: Everything Rasheed Wallace does
Worst Thing: Everything everyone else does
MVP: Rasheed Wallace for breaking it down AND doing the Carlton Banks dance
Suggested Album Title: The Detroit Pistons Listlessly Mumble The Classics

The Verdict

The Bengals put forth a more consistent effort and showed far more teamwork than the Pistons. However, even collectively, they cannot outshine the incandescent talent that is Rasheed Wallace.

WINNER: Pistons!

Merry Christmas

Many of you have been very kind to me and my blog this year. I wish you all a happy religious holiday, pagan ritual, drunken revelry or appalling consumerist bacchanal. And I hope you all have as much fun as this handsome devil with the new airplane, piano and baseball bat.

Theatre Review: Ho Ho Horrendous

A part of every critic’s job is sitting through the bad as well as the good. It is simply a hazard of the profession. However, enduring “Christmastime Is Here” as staged by Miss Othmar’s class at St. Paul Elementary School is a sacrifice not to be asked of anyone. A class of fourth-graders celebrating Christmas should be a joyous occasion, but last night’s performance is evidence that the legitimate stage is no place for childish revelry.

The problems began with the play’s director, Charlie Brown. Master Brown brought no coherence to the proceedings. A ham-handed retelling of the Nativity story (which inexplicably included a Christmas Queen) was followed by free form jazz music and strange dancing that would be more at home in a production of “Hair” than in a solemn holiday story. Two small twin girls danced in frightening unison like they were trying to remove water from their ears, and one young man bobbed his head in such a manner as to suggest that he had broken his neck! The strange goings on continued as a beagle portrayed all of the animals in the Nativity story. Dada-esque theater has its place, but in Master Brown’s hands it simply seemed like cheap shock tactics. This reviewer, for one, was previously unaware that a penguin was present at the birth of Christ.

Set design was practically nonexistent save for a tiny, barren Christmas tree that appeared unlikely to prolong its painful life enough to even see Christmas Day. The pathetic little tree was an apt symbol of Brown’s amateurish production and its odd juxtaposition of the sacred with the profane. It's quite apparent that Charlie Brown was hired to direct the play on the recommendation of his psychiatrist.

The evening finally came to a close with an overbearing recitation of a passage from the Gospel of St. Luke by Linus Van Pelt. After hearing Master Van Pelt describe the Nativity with his particular brand of pretentious faux humility, I’m sure he has a bright future as an oncologist, a philosophy professor or Alex Trebek’s replacement on Jeopardy!

All are encouraged to skip this holiday disaster. If you are so unfortunate as to receive tickets to this production for a Christmas present, you can be sure that you were deemed “naughty” this year.

Mom, Mom, Watch Me Dive!

Actually, it's "Blogland, Blogland, watch me take pictures!" But that doesn't have the same ring. I'm back home in New Jersey, where we are under 23 inches of snow. Here are some cool pictures.

My parents' house. That pine tree on the left was our Christmas tree one year, and then we replanted it. And fed it steroids.

This is the hill I used to go sledding on, and it's right across the street from the house, which was sweet.


Here's a little cove about a block away. We used to play hockey on this perfectly shaped little patch of ice. I really like this picture.


I saw this a few blocks away, and I just love the way the lights shine through the snow.


And last but not least, here is this year's batch of Christmas cookies. Ginger chocolate, hazelnut chocolate chip, cranberry pinwheel, almond roca, and green tea shortbread.

The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year

Happy Holidays from everyone at the Virtua Surgical Group! Except for Bob. Bob says you can go fuck yourself.

Actual Conversations With Real People, Vol. 9

Welcome to another installment of Actual Conversations With Real People. Today's real person is my three-year-old nephew.


WWW: Grandmom told me that you got in trouble at school. What happened?

Tot: I hit Shawn.

WWW: Why did you hit Shawn?

Tot: He was being mean at me!

WWW: He was being mean? What did he do?

Tot: He hit me back.

Rocking For The Weekend: The Dead Weather

The Dead Weather aren't purveyors of happy fun songs, like most of the ones I've posted. But "Treat Me Like Your Mother" is a perfect Friday song if your weekend plans include kicking ass. The Dead Weather consist of Dean Fertita from Queens of the Stone Age (guitar), Jack Lawrence from The Greenhornes and The Raconteurs (bass), Jack White from The White Stripes and The Raconteurs (drums), and Alison Mosshart from The Kills (lead vocals). You may also enjoy the awesome video, which includes lots of gratuitous violence.

Enjoy the weekend!

Porn Is The Cleanser

Things have been slow here at the blog lately - if it can be said that an anvil falling off a building slows when it hits the pavement. I actually have things to write about but cannot even begin to put words together and describe them. I need something to disrupt my inertia. And what shakes things up better than abject obscenity? Thus, I present you a completely silly and thoroughly appalling list of porn movie titles based on real movie titles. Please enjoy this quality filler comedy.



A warning...it really IS filthy. So if you're of a delicate constitution, go read Ziggy or something.




No, really.




Last chance.




I knew you'd still be here. Here you go, perv:

Sperms Of Endearment
Lay Anything
Herpes, The Love Bug
Guess Who's Coming On Dinner
Eat The Parents
Clitty Clitty Bang Bang
Willy Wonked Me In My Chocolate Factory
Grinding Nemo
The French Erection
Monty’s Python In The Holy Grail
Some Like Her Twat
Jack Off My Beanstalk
A Swish Called Wanda
12” Angry Men
Wangs of Desire