Tiger Addiction

You know what's crazy? I'll tell you what's crazy!

The preoccupation with Tiger Woods.

Did he check into a sex rehab clinic? Was his wife with him? When will he return to golf?

Who cares!

Don't you have enough trouble in your own life? Did you pay your power bill yet? Is Tiger going to pay it? Then forget about Tiger Woods, and start writing a check. If your power goes out then you can't watch Burn Notice and future episodes of NCIS.
Tiger Woods this and Tiger Woods that? Did you hug your kid and tell him you love him? No? Well then get to it. He might be feeling insignifcant in this big old messd up world and a hug might just get him through his day. And since Tiger Woods ain't hugging anyone without a bottle of Jack Daniels by his side, I suggest you do it yourself.

Tiger Woods is a cartoon figure. I care about Tiger Woods about as much as I care about Scooby Doo getting his Scooby Snack.

Still the question and media intrigue regarding Tiger Woods festers.

How many mistresses does he have? 5? 10? 15? Who cares? The last time I checked, one is probably enough to F-up your life. Tiger Woods thought he could juggle double digit mistresses.

That's ballsy. Stupid, but ballsy.

I hear a lot of talk that sounds like this; "His wife is so beautiful. Why would he cheat with such average looking women when he has such a beautiful wife at home."

Well people, I see it like this. What good is owning a Ferrarri if you never get to drive it? If you can't jam that exotic, finely tuned animal into 6th gear and make the engine scream, hitting red line, right before the motor blows, well then what's the use.

Then again, if you have a slightly less fast and somewhat less sleek mode of transportation in the garage, why wouldn't you jump behind the wheel and give it a spin. If you can drive that car any time you want, and it performs satisfactorilly, effeciently, and gets you where you need to go with a smile on your face, then why wouldn't you drive that car?

Also; news about Tiger Woods checking into a sex rehab clinic is everywhere. It got me to thinking, what is sex addiction? Do sex addicts need to get their rocks off like a nicotine junkie needs to suck down cigarettes. Do you start detoxing if you don't get naked and start rubbing skin? People get addicted to booze, even though man don't need alcohol to live. People get hooked on drugs, even though man doesn't need drugs to exist.

BUT Sex is different. People need sex. It's a monster that bubbled out of the primoridial ooze. Sex is a building block of the human condition like air, food and water.

Sure monks in Tibet are celibate for years, but these same guys sleep on cots made out of barb wire. If that's the meaning of life, count me out.

To say Tiger Woods is a sex addict because he has had a lot of sex with a lot of women doesn't quite make sense.

If Tiger Woods was single, he wouldn't be a sex addict, at least half of the world would celebrate him as a STUD. He wouldn't be on EXTRA as the straying husband,  he'd be GQ's man of the year.

But perception is reality. Since he is married and cheated on his wife and one extra marrital affair is one too many, then there must be something wrong with Tiger Woods. The public has decided that a man who wants sex all the time from as many attractive women as he can find must be sick, in need of help.

But wanting to have sex, alot of sex, is that so sick?

I would argue that urge is primal and one all men feel from crib to the grave. Women will never understand the impulse because it seems to be a part of the genetic code of the male species, primarilly. Tiger Woods wanting a lot of sex isn't sick, it's natural, priomordial, inevitable.

Tiger Woods a sex addict? He's no more addicted to sex than every man reading this sentence. He just has a billion more options than every man reading this sentence. Think about that!

Either way, I'm over Tiger Woods. He is a great golfer. He is a rich athlete. He is an ugly son-of-a-bitch, don't you think?

Do you even think Tiger Woods would have a girlfriend if he was a check out boy at the KROGER? Do you think Tiger Woods clumsy cell phone message is front page news if he's changing your oil at Jiffy Lube?

Let's answer what we can answer:

When will El Tigre return to the PGA tour?

"At this point, I don't even think Tiger knows when he's coming back," said veteran golf writer Art Spander, who spoke with Woods the weekend before his infamous Thanksgiving car crash that made world headlines.

Will he reunite with his wife? Will he be able to pass a cock tail waitress without his hormones overloading? Will he pilot the good ship Privacy into friendly waters ever again?

As a wise sage once whispered to me: "Battle lines are drawn. Only Time will tell."

But ultimately who cares? Go pay your light bill. Hug your kid.

And that is Crazy.

Naked Dog Calendar

You know what's crazy? I'll tell you what's crazy!

How little money there is in small town government for animal control.

They say dog is man's best friend. You wouldn't say that if you toured your local shelter today.
I dare you, give it a try.

The minute you pass through the door, the sound yelps pierce your heart. You can't even see their faces, but the anguish and despair bounces off the corridors.

Enter the main sanctuary where they keep abandonded and lost dogs and feel the hope rush out of your soul.

It's a kick in the scrotum the visage is so sad.

Cage after cage lined with a little life that is ticking away like a furry time bomb. Each cage contains a four footed creature that wants a chance to chase a ball and curl up at your feet and lick your hand.

Walk down the aisle and try not to hate mankind. Walk down the aisle and try not to inhale the insanity that would allow so many beautiful animals to run loose, to be captured and then corralled in this sterile weigh station, waiting for an injection that will put them to sleep forever.

The pitiful stares from behind the bars. It's enough to make you cry. Each puppy, each dog, each abused animal on the four footed version of death row trying to get you to stop at the cage and pet their head. The sorrowful head butt into the cage, the aggressive tail wag, the cute little ear twitch. Each animal with its own distinct personality tyring its best to get you to stop and pay attention to them. If only they can get you to pet their head through the cage. If only they can lick your fingers. The dog knows this may be its only chance of leaving the shelter on a leash and not a body bag.

Prostitutes in Denmark do the same thing working behind the curtains of their glass cages. The goal is the same. Get the customer to stop, to take interest and to make a financial commitment. If you're lucky they'll lick your fingers as well.

While most of us love animals and treat them like family members. County Governments view animals as property. In many county ordinances you can exchange the word dog for couch and the integrity of the ordinance remains in tact. It's sad, but animals are not highly valued as a commodity by most city governments.

Laws protecting these defenseless creatures are weak and the money available to help them, neuter them, medicate them, is sadder than Brittany Spears latest comeback tour where she exposes her flabby stomach and wears a ring master's whistle around her neck.

Most municipalities are all ready drowning in red ink and sadly, for right or wrong, people come over pets. Trust me, animals are more true to God's plan than people could ever be, but sadly we have the opposable thumb and they can only lick their own asses, so we make the rules, I guess.
It is because of this serious lack of public funding that animal lovers will do almost anything to raise money and awareness to help animals in distress. God bless them, but when is it all too much?

DATE LINE BULVERDE, Texas

12 woman ranging in age from 28 to 75 are laterally giving the shirts off their backs to help the local shelter. SI swim suit models they aint!

The woman have posed nude for a calendar to drum up money. The collective eyebrow of this Bible Belt town is on heightened alert over this one. Imagine the most pedestrian of women, the bus driver, the check out girl, the church secretary, pulling their shirts off and doing jumping jacks in front of your face. Jeez Louise! if your eyes didn't fill with blood you would certainly lose your appetite.

According to a CNN report; Ms.January is 75 and butt ass naked. Her 8 decade old sagging flesh obscured from the camera by the well positioned Beagle in her lap. I don't know if i want to pet the beagle or stab my eyes with a fork.

Come on man! Is life this crazy enough!
Now I gotta save a pooch from death's doorstep by forking over cash to look at someones great grandma topless. Haven't I done enough for this country all ready? I've been paying into a social security system for 30 years and the only thing I will get out of it is acid reflux. I've helped bail out unsinkable banks and helped the world's greatest auto company get back on its feet. I give and give and give and now a bunch of naked plain Jane do gooders want me to do more.

Did anybody think to ask the strippers down at the Wild Goose to see if they were interested in helping the hounds? I mean they're all ready naked so how hard is it to throw a black lab puppy in their lap and say cheese? At least these women have skin that seems to begin and end at the appropriate body parts.

And what if I do buy this calendar featuring the honeys of the humane society? Do I have to stare at Mother Time for 30 straight days. How can I find my wallet if I'm blind, ya'll

How much you expect a hard working man to pay for a calendar featuring geriatric strippers? "Yo baby, can you move your schnauzer to the right. I need a better look."

YIKES!

Who the hell is buying this calendar? Their husbands? Only because if they don't, they'll be in the dog house? Who else is hanging this on the kitchen wall? The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker? Doubtful! Guys in prison wouldn't use this calendar to mark off the days remaining on their sentences. I wonder if the animals on doggy death row even like sitting in a naked old ladies lap. It makes you think? Pose for the picture or just take the needle?

If the Muslims are right, then once I go to sleep there will be a 27 virgin "bitches" waiting in dogie heaven for me. That might be worth taking one for the team for?

HMMMMMM?

Don't get me wrong, the calendar is tastefully shot. The animal themed calendar doesn't reveal any body parts that you wouldn't normally see at a swimming pool or a somewhat inappropriate day spa. But the idea of granny hugging her Chihuahua, butt ass naked! Please, can't someone reading this just give these
do-gooders some cash.

I mean, Ms. February is hugging a Dalmatian and I can't tell where the dog's spots begin and Ms February's spots end. Is this the page I want to write my son's soccer information on?
Old woman nakedness is better off left unseen. Old man nakedness too. There's talk of the husbands doing a calendar next year.

I'm going on a bender right now, and I won't dry out till someone promises me that I won't have to see a 80 year old bag of flesh hiding his crusty old Johnson behind a Dachshund. Tell Mr. November to go home and sleep it off in his Lazy-boy.

Where is the nearest 12 step program: god grant me the serenity to accept the things i cannot change, to change the things i can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

Wow.

Somehow this marketing mistake has raised 12,000 dollars. that's wonderful. It's just sad that a bunch of women have to take off their clothes to get people to care about hurt, abandoned and neglected animals.

If the calendar featured the dogs of death row, how much money would that raise?

How bout putting the face of a cute puppy that is going to be put to death on every single square of the month. That might get people's attention better than some saggy bosoms.

Monday's death dog: Pumpkin the poodle.

Tuesday's death dog: Rachel the rottweiler

Wednesday's death dog: Same the Shepperd.

And so it goes.

By Thursday, you'd be so freakin depressed you'd call in sick to go to the shelter to shovel poop.

The volunteers who don't look that good with their clothes on were quoted as telling CNN: "there's not much i won't do for animals."

Obviously!

So what's next?

Hooking for pets?
Crack cocaine pot luck dinners?
Bank fraud Bingo.

I love the creativity girls, but I think you should take your message to the County Commission and plead your case. Put the pressure on the good ole boys and let them know that pets are part of our society and they deserve the necessary funds to live or in some cases die with dignity.

If our forefathers had wanted laws to be influenced by old women with saggy boobs they would have made John Hancock sign the Declaration of Independence topless!

And that is crazy!

Teenage Girls

You know what's crazy? I'll tell you what's crazy!

Teenage girls!

The way they talk. The way they walk. The way they roll their eyes with utter contempt. The make up, the slinky shirts, the tight jeans.

What the hell is going on?

Where'd my little girl go? Where's the baby doll in the tutu and cute hat. Where's the baby who sucked her thumb and and cuddled with a stuffed teddy bear?

Where's the little girl who use to call me daddy?

She gone, consumed by hormones stirred by a chronological time bomb that changes every daddy's little girl into a teenage mutant.

My daughter just turned 15 going on 25. In the time it took for her to blow out her candles, she became another person.

Cute became defiant. Adorable became indolence. Playful became sarcastic.  She use to jump in my lap, or hang on my arm. Now she barely acknowledges my existence unless she needs money.

"Dad I'm going to the mall, can I have some money?"

I usually say yes, just grateful to talk to her on any level.
Where is the little girl that enjoyed Dora the Explorer?

Now it's project run-way and MTV's Jersey Shore where every other word is Bitch and Douche Bag.

Where the hell is the F.C.C. when you need them? What's a parent to do?

It was during some horrifying episode of teenage television that an image of Christie Brinkley in her prime flashed across the screen.

I'm old but I "ain't" dead. I made the mistake of saying aloud, "Now there's a beautiful woman."

My 15-year-old turned on me like a vampire sniffing blood.

"Really dad? Really?"

Her eyes were angry and fixed on me as if I was a bug she wanted to squash.

"What?," I said chuckling. "I can't comment on a woman's beauty?"

With all the subtlety of a black widow spider injecting poison into its prey she says; "that's creepy dad. You are a creeper."

And there it was. In the time it takes for the Situation to flash his six pack to a crowd of Jersey Skanks, I had gone from Daddy to Creeper.

When did I become as ridiculous as a monkey launching his own excrement from his cage?

You want to know when teenagers think you're irrelevant? When they talk around you like you arent't there or you have a hearing problem.
The other day, I was driving my daughter and her friends to the movies. She was in the front seat. Her two friends directly behind us. The music was on at a tolerable level on what I thought was a cool rock station. I'm sure they think Pearl Jam is for Geezers. Anyway. To these worldly girls of 15 years, I'm somebody's grandpa with one foot in the grave and a megaphone in one ear.

The girls start talking about each other's parents, and what they do on dates, and what girl at school is a sleazy skank.
WHAT!

Do they not realize the back seat is only 3 feet away? Do you not realize I can hear every single stupid thing coming out of your teenage pie holes girls? Have youth of today lost their Mother "F-in" minds!

You need more Crazy? Let me direct you to the crazy teen trying to sneak out of my house looking like a FLOOZIE.

The other morning she came down for school wearing an outfit that would make a Vietnamese working girl blush.

"What the hell is that?"
"HUH?"
"Go upstairs and change"
"But everyone is wearing this."
"I don't care what other kids are wearing. You aren't wearing that to school!"

She rolled her eyes and stomped her foot and put on that sad sack pouty face.

"Did you hear me," I reiterate. "You put on a shirt that shows no cleavage. You wipe off that make up from the  Salvador Dali collection!"

I don't know where my little girl went to, but I sure miss her.

15 year old girls are ridiculous. The problem is they just don't know it.

In the immortal words of my dad: "Wait till she has kids of her own."

I can't wait. That'll teach her.
And that is crazy.

I hate Punxsutawney Phil

You know what's crazy? I'll tell you what's crazy!

Punxsutawney Phil's preposterous predictions.

That's crazy.

DATELINE; Punxsutawney, PA.

BREAKING NEWS:  urinating rodent faces throng of drunk well wishers and sees shadow, yet again. Crowd turns ugly and assuages anger by eating raw ground hog meat.

In case you've been living in your own personal Ground Hog day; February 02, 2010, hundreds of inebriated denizens of stupid braved cold and darkness from a little burg called Gobblers Knob in Punssutawney, Pa.

I got nothing against Punxsutawney or Pennsylvania or Gobblers Knob, but I hate Phil.

I can count what I hate on one hand.

The Taliban, Jelly Fish, Pejorative eye rolls, fresh cat box poops and yes, I hate PHIL.

I hate this little rat of a possum. He's a cock roach with fur. A hampster with a urinary tract infection. He calls himself a ground hog, but he's really a waste of time.
I hate him because every year like celestial clockwork he emerges from his stupid little PHIL house and reminds me with pomp and pagentry that I am going to freeze my ass off for another 6 weeks.

I hate winter and I hate Phil.

Breaking news: February 2nd: Phil saw his shadow and forecast six more weeks of winter weather. Don't put your boots away just yet. I say load them shot guns boys. It's time to kill us some PHIL.

What bothers me is that Phil always sees his shadow. According to the numb nuts who celebrate this freak-fest, Phil has seen his shadow 98 times. He has only NOT SEEN HIS SHADOW 15 times. 9 times nobody knows what the hell PHIL saw. Maybe he was too busy shoving his own rat head up his own rat ass to see anything other than my dark contempt. 

Come on Punxsawtawny, get real. Quick jerking my chain. 113 versions of  wake up PHIL and 98 times he pisses himself?  You have better odds guessing the powerball numbers in Vietnam than you do waking up to spring time courtesy of Phil.

According to the Pittsburgh Post Gazette: Phil's weather predicting stems from a German tradition that says if a hibernating animal casts a shadow Feb. 2, the Christian holiday of Candlemas, winter will last another six weeks. Spring would come early if there is no shadow.

I'll tell you what might change Phil's tune. Tell the little rabies carrying disease bag that if he doesn't predict warmth, and soon, we're sicking the hounds on him. See Phil run! Now I'm attending this February Fest.

Hang in there people. Just 42 more days of ice and snow and rear ending the guy in front of you.

Thanks Phil, you rat bastard!

Vegetable Abuse

You know what's crazy? I'll tell you what's crazy!

A billboard sized sex-ad that not only shocks, but infuriates residents in a sleepy Texas suburb.

The audacity of these companies that think they can simply force issues, visuals, and salacious concepts into my face without so much of a "how-do-you-do"

DATELINE LANCASTER, Texas

The billboard sized pickle looks innocuous enough. The cartoonish creature is green and his beady eyes seem confused, like Sarah Palin when asked to point out Afghanistan on a world map. Like the former Gov., the sad pickle opens his toothless mouth as if to moan the phrase; "oh no."

Oh No is what motorists and residents are saying as they drive by and see that the pickle, is less about being a pickle and more about being a symbol of sexual product promotion.

Beside the confused cucumber, there is a slogan that says STOP VEGETABLE ABUSE!

Stop Vegetable abuse? That's a strange thing for a pickle to say, don't you think?

If you drove by quickly, or just gave the billboard a "quickie" glance, you'd think it is an ad for the pro-Christian, cartoon franchise known as:
Veggie-Tales.

But the pickle is more than just a vegetable promoting a good clean lifestyle. This pickle with the crazy eyes is apparently hammering home a commercial message sponsored by a Dallas sex emporium.

The billboard is on interstate-35 a few miles south of Dallas.

According to WJZ TV, the CBS affiliate, the billboard was put up by stores that feature adult toys, lingerie and movies.

Apparently the billboard is a continuation of a late night ad that features the pickle, who is looking for a place to hide.

hmmmm, i wonder where he would like to hide?  Well in the refrigerator, truth be told.

The ad is clever and well done. It begins with a young woman sleeping. A buldge emerges under the sheet and moves away from the woman, toward the edge of the bed. The frightened pickle, with the crazy eyes is trying to escape. Just as Pickle pokes his head out, the woman stirs and casts a menacing glance toward the foot of the bed. The pickle with the "oh no" expression tucks his head back under the covers till the coast is clear. When the woman goes back to sleep, the pickle makes a break for it, like escape from alcatraz. The pickle hits the floor and then rolls to the kitchen where he forces open the refrigerator door and hides under other food items. Poor pickle! The woman has so traumatized him that he is shaking uncontrollably.

Then comes the graphic: Thousands of cucumbers are assaulted every year.

That's when the little green pickle transforms into a sleek and menacing vibrator that glistens in the light of sexual obfuscation.

The ad campaign seems to suggest that the woman in bed had been using the cucumber in a special sort of way that could also be considered abusive to vegetables, and make PETA officials wince. Hence the clever billboard hook: STOP VEGETABLE ABUSE!

The commercials run late at night when most youngsters should be sleeping. The ad on the billboard is beside I -35 in Lancaster which is a suburb south of Dallas. The reason the billboard is causing consternation is because it is right in the open for all to see. Daytime, Nighttime, rain or shine, The pickle looks sad and confused by the alleged abuse. Whether you are a burly armed trucker or an old lady driving the church van, the picklewith the "oh no" look is staring right at you. he forces you to confront your beliefs and deal with the advertising slap in the face.

According to televised reports; employees of the stores say they've received several complaints since the billboard went up last week.

I would think so.

It's no secret that controversy sells, and if selling vibrators and other sexual elixers is your purpose, then creating a buzz, literally, is good for business.

I applaud the creative effort and the marketing behind the campaign. What I don't appreciate, as a dad, is having to tell school age kids what a vibrator is, where it goes, what it is used for, and why the pickle is so sad. The falic symbol claims to be abused.

Abused by what daddy? Abused by whom?

It just forces concepts on me that I would rather choose to bring up when I want to bring them up, not when I happen to be driving the kids home from soccer and we pass by the big, inappropriate billboard.

That's my problem with this. It's a random chance encounter with a serious issue that might take more tact and preparation than a drive by allows for. The questions of "what's that daddy?" from the back seat are like stinging jelly fish tentacles on my bare skin. The billboard might just force me into an awkward discussion with children who might not be age appropriate for such discussions.

So to the sex company's I say; stop parental abuse and come up with a more appropriate campaign to get people to come into your stores. After all, you are trying to get them to buy a product that hasn't exactly gone out of style for a couple of hundred years.

I'm sure they will come, no pun intended. But maybe, if you piss me off enough, me and the church lady and the burly armed truck driver will say F-OFF pickle and the horse you rode in on.

I'll buy my vibrating merchandise off the internet from a company that has no connection to yours.

Remember pickle people; you may own the billboard, but i control the cabbage in my wallet and i decide where it goes.

It's called economic control and it is something I get to exercise.
And that is crazy. 

$97 Booger

You know what's crazy? I'll tell you what's crazy!

The ludicrous array of invasive and non-sensical laws that rain down upon us in this so called civilized society.

No right on Red. No talking on your cell phone. No chain saw juggling while driving in the HOV lane.

It's like flushing too much toilet paper down the john, it just clogs up and over flows and makes a stinky old mess.

When is the insanity going to end?

Apparently no time soon.

Last week That's Crazy told you about a Swiss Court that had the audacity to issue a driver a 290K speeding ticket.

what did the man do? Force himself on a polar bear? Play Junk in a box at the convent? Nothing so egregious. He was clocked going 30 mph over the speed limit.

OK, I concede that 30 mph over the limit is reckless but a $290,000 speeding citation is also reckless abuse of judicial power! The judge should have been knocked off his bench by soccer hooligans and then made to beer bong their beer filled urine till he gacked all over his robe.

In case you missed this Pulitzer caliber article last week, the judge's fine was based on the amount of money the speeder has in the bank. He apparently has 20 million dollars in the bank. The judge's logic is, hit him where it hurts. $50 dollars is a microscopic flea bite to a wallet so thick. So the court decided that it would shoot an elephant with a bazooka to make some noise and get the driver's attention. I am sure that it worked. Is that legally acceptable? Isn't law a blanket that should cover us all with the same fabric?

Under the Swiss Judge's logic, a poor man can duplicate the same offense and be ordered to surrender the tic tacs in his center console? Where is the fabric of fair in that governance?

Now another example of society over legislating and micro-managing the life of an other wise law abiding citizen.

DATELINE: LONDON

A Scottish man is pulled over in London and cited for not maintaining control of his vehicle.

Sounds legitimate till you hear that Michael Mancini was in traffic. He was not moving. His parking brake was on. Did I mention his car was stopped? He was going exactly Zero miles an hour. Apparently he used this moment of non-locomotion to take his hands off the wheel and blow his nose.

He blew his nose. He dislodged his nasal cavity with a forceful gust of air expelled from his Scottish lungs.

Big deal right?

So, once traffic began to move again, Mr. Mancini disengaged the parking brake, put his hands on the wheel and continued on his merry way. No harm no foul!

That is until blue lights and sirens fill up his rear view mirror.

"What'd I do?," the perplexed Scotsman probably signaled to the approaching, citation book toting law man.

The dyspeptic traffic cop informed the van driver that he was pulled over for not maintaining control of his vehicle.

"I was stopped in traffic and had the handbrake on and thought to myself, 'I've just got time to blow my nose,'" Mancini is quoted as telling a London newspaper. "Then police pulled me over and I was booked. I genuinely thought they were joking."

Mancini knew it was no joke when the court cited him $97 and assessed three points on his driving license.

I guess it could have been worse. He could have blown his nose in Switzerland.
Certainly Mr. Mancini didn't blow 97-dollars worth of snot into his handkerchief? He certainly couldn't have been too out of control of his parked van in bumper to bumper traffic. He was going nowhere fast and still he received 3 points on his license. What's that gonna cost the poor man in insurance price hikes alone?

It's just unfair is what it is!

This isn't justice, it's bullying. It's Godzilla kicking down buildings type of law enforcement, simply because they can. The judge is a big fire breathing monster kicking over cars and punching in the side of grocery stores and for what? Is he protecting citizens from dangerous driving? Or is he sending a message to all citizens that the government, under the guise of law, can do whatever it wants, like a steam roller flattening sand castles.

To cite a man $97 dollars for blowing his nose in a parked car is over kill and abusive. It's analogous to calling the fire dept to help blow out your three year old's birthday cake. Sure the flames go out, but so does the cake, the presents, the table.

At last report; Mr Mancini is refusing to pay the fine. He has retained a lawyer who argues, Mancini was in charge of the vehicle because his handbrake was on, therefore the offense did not occur.

According to the London Press, prosecutors disagree warning Mancini if the fine isn't paid the case would be taken to court.

Mr Mancini said, "I intend on taking this all the way to court. I still don't believe it actually happened".

Way to go Mr. Mancini. Thanks for sticking up for all of us on this one. When you can't blow your nose in your own parked vehicle without big brother watching, then it's time to let the man know he's crazy. I say pull up the robe of hyper active law makers and stick your boogers where the sun don't shine. Let them know they are there to serve us and to protect us, not the other way around.

Mancini isn't exactly Rosa parks refusing to give up her bus seat, but the Scotsman is a guy who just wanted to blow his nose without the long arm of the law reaching in his car to do it for him.

And that is crazy!

Presidential Pork Viagra

You know what's Crazy? I'll tell you what's crazy!

Using the words PORK and VIAGRA in the same sentence during a presidential press conference.

Equate pork to Viagra in cell block C? You don't even raise an eye brow. Discuss the lasting powers of pork over Viagra while sitting on a heating grate in Cincinnati? Who cares, pass the ripple.

But connect Pork to long lasting, satisfying sex in the Presidential palace, and you got yourself an international incident. Well maybe.

DATELINE: BUENOS AIRES ARGENTINA

According to Reuters, – Argentina's president recommended pork as an alternative to Viagra, exclaiming with a straight face that she spent a satisfying weekend with her husband after eating barbecued pork.

Well there you have it!

President Cristina Fernandez basically held a press conference to say she got Porked after eating pork. Who thinks this is a good topic for a press conference? This is unacceptable even if she was addressing a joint convention of Pork Farmers who can't maintain an erection. The Presidential press secretary should be flogged and sent to jail for allowing this lunacy.

.In case you missed it, President Fernandez was addressing leaders of the Pig Farming Industry. She could have said Pork tastes great or it's the healthy white meat. But for some reason she chose to equate the pork sandwich she ate to a satisfying sexual tryst between herself and the first Husband.

Reuters reports that Argentines are the world's biggest per capita consumers of beef, but the government has sought to promote pork as an alternative in recent years due to rising steak prices and as a way to diversify the meat industry.

DIVERSIFY?  That's a legitimate topic for discussion.
But what came out of Fernandez' mouth should have been sterilized and flushed down the crapper.

Instead of playing on this theme of beef diversification, the so called "most beautiful leader in all the world" got up on national tv and essentially declared; She and her husband did it like bunnies all weekend long thanks to a healthy diet of pulled pork sandwiches.

I bet that's not all they pulled!

If you use the transitive properties developed by master mathematicians; (A+B=C)
I must summize that Pork+Porking=Satisfaction and Economic Growth.

Now I wasn't there for the Presidential Porking, but I can only imagine those Bar-B-Que pork sandwiches were so erotically flavorful, that neither the President or her latin lover cowboy of a husband could wait the recommended 20 minutes after eating before jumping into the "pool", if you know what I mean.

We know she likes pork. The question is, does she also like tequila? Was the President Juiced? What leader tells her nation that she and the first husband were doing it like teenagers in the back seat of a 57 Chevy filled with pulled pork meat?

As if the President's admissions weren't embarrassing enough, Reuters also quotes her as saying :"I've just been told something I didn't know; that eating pork improves your sex life. I'd say it's a lot nicer to eat a bit of grilled pork than take Viagra," she said to leaders of the pig farming industry.

Thank you for coming everyone, now don't forget to tip your bartenders and waitresses on your way out.

Wow!  The President endorses pork like it's a little blue pill.

I wonder what El Presidente plans to reveal when she addresses the Plumbers Association next week? I'm sure something unsavory will come out of her mouth about laying pipe.

How bout the Blow Up Doll Federation of Argentina this March? Hold on to your Sombreros everyone, that should be a press conference not even C-SPAN will televise without an 8 second delay.

After reading about this surreal press conference, I can see why Fernandez won 97% of the E.D. vote.
Can't you just imagine thousands of old men in Buenos Aires, mobilizing in wheel chairs and walkers to the Carneceria (meat market) to buy every last ounce of pork. Will they eat it or just begin rubbing the raw meat on their bodies in some sickening, demented ritual of misguided sexuality.

Maybe Viva Viagra ads will disappear from Argentine TV, in favor of pork commercials.

The other white meat.

(Good riddance to the Viagra ads I say. they make me uncomfortable. I don't like men sitting around a camp fire with wine spritzers and guitars singing about impotence. And set to Elvis? Elvis liked amphetamines and cheeseburgers. He liked rhinestones and gas station jump suits. Something tells me he wouldn't be about Erectile Dysfunction.)

This advice from the Crazy Dept: If your pork sandwich induced erection lasts more than four hours, be sure to see a doctor.


And that is crazy!