You got a lot of nerve waltzing back in here...

Heeeey everybody! (Everyone in unison: Hey Dr. Nick!)

I know I've been gone awhile, but I've had a lot of developments in my absence. Let's see if I can sum up the last couple of months for you. I've done a few stand-up comedy shows, an improv show, learned a few household tips (nothing like fixing broken things with a hangover on New Year's day), and did one of the most wonderful things of my life...got engaged to my girlfriend. I'll give you a minute to catch your breath and curse my name. Sorry ladies, but I'm off the market...unless the price is right. Baby, if you're reading this, I'm keeeeeeding!

Well, I just wanted to drop a post to let you all know I'm alive and somewhat well...except for the occasional brain tumor. But don't worry about that, those will pass...they always do. And I promise to update more...and I always keep my promises, just like this guy!

-Y2

Worst. Christmas. Ever.

If Santa sees me all the time, I hope he catches me giving him the finger...

You wanna leave too?

Pack it up and beat it!

1. Joan Rivers:
AAAAAGGGGHHHH!!!

Her tagline is, "Can we talk?" No we can't. All we can do is stare at you in disbelief and scratch our heads.

2. Uppity Sports Reporters:
These are guys who probably haven’t really played sports at all, unless you count chasing butterflies in deep right field. These guys think they’re experts on the game because they remember obscure stats like a certain batter’s slugging percentage against right-handed pitching with runners in scoring position in stadiums that have a retractable roof. Guys, cough up what’s left of the lunch money you have to the jocks you’re reporting on and go away.

-Y2

Planes, Trains, and Jerks

All aboard! The next train is leaving for 'away from here' and we've got room for two more:

1. Kevin Federline:
We get it! You’re nailing a hot chick! You can quit rubbing it in our faces. I’ve got to say you are everything that is wrong with everything. I don’t know how you slipped past karma’s radar, but you better enjoy while you can because Brittany is going to come to her senses one day and pitch you out on your ass. And don’t think for a second I’ll let you bum a cigarette when you ask for it.

Oh, and just to put the topping on the cake, you call yourself K-Fed...Ugh.

2. 'Finger Shooters':
I told you all this list wasn’t specific to just a person. Certain types of people can be included. This time I’m including the people who use their fingers as guns when they’re saying ‘hello’ to you. You know the guy. He walks up in his Members’ Only jacket, large hair, and toothy grin and says “There’s my guy! Hey buddy!”, then proceeds to give the finger shoot…’Bang Bang’!

I wish those fingers were loaded, and you would turn them on yourself. But, unfortunately, those fingers, like you, would probably shoot blanks. Instead, pack your bags, head on down to the airport, make sure to turn in your ‘weapons’ to the security guards, and fly far, far away.

-Y2

Two more candidates.

Looks like I've found two more folks who've made the 'Go Away' list. So help me in saying 'Bye Bye' to:

1. Yoko Ono
Where did she come from? Why won’t she go back? Yoko just seemed to appear out of the blue, hanging around the Beatles. Who knew that she would be the one to destroy them? It’s almost like a cold sore on your lip ending your life. After she did her number on one the greatest rock and roll bands ever, she then guided John Lennon to make some of the most retarded recordings in history. I’m sorry, but screeching isn’t singing.

As if that isn’t enough, she’s also a vocal activist for world peace. Sheesh. What a wide open cause to root for. Why don’t you just be an activist for no more bad things to happen on the planet in every way shape or form? You know what, Yoko? The only way all of those world unity rallies you’re holding would be successful is if everyone in the world united to get you to pack your bags, and go back to whatever planet you came from.

2. Barbara Streisand
You suck! End of story...

-Y2

Make like a tree and get outta here!

Certain people piss me off to no end. You know the type. These are people that bring nothing to the table of humanity other than to annoy and bewilder us. Now it’s human nature for us to want to kill them, but I’m not that spiteful. I would just rather they’d go away. That’s all I’m asking for. I’d like to see them pack their bags and never be heard from again.

This isn’t just limited to people either. There are a bunch of annoying things I wish would disappear. Hopefully, if I can make you folks aware of these people and things, maybe we can make them go away for good. So now, I’d like to present a new segment in the ‘Scribblings’ called the ‘Go Away List’. I now present our first candidate to leave us...

Oprah Winfrey:
General Mao, Pol Pot, Saddam Hussein, Oprah Winfrey. Don’t think Oprah’s name belongs in that list? Think again. Just like the others in that list, Oprah has a large, faithful following of supporters. Just like the others in that list, Oprah has limitless resources available to her whim. Just like the others, Oprah has the potential to torture the masses.

Don’t let the energetic entrances on her TV show, the car giveaways, the book-of-the-month club, or even the endless parade of celebrities crying on her couch fool you. She’s up to no good.

So why is she on the “Go Away” list? It comes down to two factors. Factor #1: She’s annoying. Her army of followers chanting, “You go girl!” makes every heterosexual, and even some bi- and homosexual men go sterile. Factor #2: Time magazine has named her on of the most powerful woman in the world. If you take those two factors and put them together, you get someone that has the capability to get on your nerves every waking and most sleeping, if she invades your dreams, second of the day. If you ask me, that’s just a recipe for disaster.

So Oprah, do us all a favor, take all of the money you have, buy your own planet, and move there…permanently!

-Y2

Are you threatening me?

I appreciate a good threat. The more creative, the better. Whether you want to kick someone's ass, just beat them up, or however you want to lay your vengeance upon someone, it's good to get a good clever threat out to your adversary. Even if you don't plan on following through on it, you can get a good laugh out of it.

For example, I was talking to a friend of mine today and, as most guys do, we were talking trash to each other. I told him I thought his sister was cute. He told me that I doesn't have a sister. So I said that his brother had better grow a moustache so I'd know better next time. He replied that he'd put his foot so far up my ass, that we'd be walking home together.

I know that it's an old threat, but it's a classic. I like hearing it every now again. Speaking of hearing threats, here's a list of good threats I've heard over the years:

1. I'll stomp a mudhole in your ass and walk it dry.
2. I'll hit you with so many lefts, you'll be begging me for a right.
3. I'll kick bloody chiclets down your throat.
4. I'll punch you so far back in time, when you wake up, your clothes will be out of style.
5. I'm gonna give you a knuckle sandwhich.
6. I'm gonna rip your arm off and beat you with it.
7. I'll slap the taste out of your mouth.
8. I'll beat you to sleep.
9. I'm gonna knock your lungs loose.
10. It's only gonna take two hits: me hitting you, and you hitting the floor.

If you've heard any good threats, please leave it in the comment section. If they're really good, they'll be used for an edition of El Presidente`.

-Y2

A Scratch Behind the Ears

It is a sad time around the household. My roommate's 16 year old (calendar years) dog, Benny is gonna have to be put down tomorrow. Although he's not really my dog, I've grown pretty attached to him. I consider him like a nephew to me, well that was until he got neutered. Now he's one of my favorite nieces. All jokes aside, he was a good pet and a great member of the family. He will sorely be missed.

Sit. Stay. Rest in peace...good boy!

Happy Halloween!

TWO? Only two trick-or-treaters showed up to my door?!

Now it looks like it's up to me to eat all of that leftover candy. Oh well, if I end up in a diabetic coma, it was for the kids.

The Wonder of it All

Sometimes I wonder...

If you're at a Catholic church and they drop the communion bread on the ground, do you have to call the cops and draw a chalk outline around it? It is the body of Christ, and he is dead after all.

When rap artists write their song titles such as "In Da House" or "Thuggin' Fo Eva" on Microsoft Word, does it drive their spell checker crazy?

If dogs can smell fear in others and smell poop on the ground, how do they know the difference?

Why is it so funny when little people run?

If a tree falls in the woods, and no one is there to witness it, can I move into the mobile home it fell on for free?

Why can't strippers keep a tip jar on the stage? They don't have pockets to hold the money.

Why isn't belching the alphabet isn't a marketable skill on my resume? It's not something everyone can do, and that's what set me apart from the rest of the applicants.

(All you credence Clearwater Revival fans sing this part with me.)
And I wonder, still I wonder who'll stop the rain...
...and if someone can do that, will they use their powers for good or evil?

Why aren't there any dinosaurs in the bible? That would have made the Noah and the Arc story so much more exciting.

If cats have nine lives, does the vet have to put them to sleep nine times?

If blind folks senses compensate and heighten for their lack of site, they should be the first one to know if someone farted.

Booya!

'Nuff said.

Howard Walters?!

Today's forecast calls for cold, rainy, and generally suckass.

Momma said there'd be days like this. Actually, she never said anything like that. She usually said, "Go run down to the store and pick me up a box of wine." At least she drank wine. What a classy lady.

Now, I don't know if it was the wine talking but she always knew how to comfort me. One time my older brother was teasing my by saying I was adopted. That upset me, so I asked her if I was. She sat me down and told me I wasn't really adopted. Instead, they just found me on the side of the road with a note pinned to my chest saying that I was the abandoned love child of Howard Cosell and Barbara Walters. I'm serious about this! You can't make drunk rambling like this up. Now if that were the truth, I'd look a little something like this. Thankfully that's not true, because nobody this handsome could be their child.

Thanks mom, you really knew how to put a kid's fears and insecurities to rest as he cries himself to sleep every night.

Cleanup on Aisle 5!

I love the grocery store. You can usually find me prancing behind a shopping cart once a week. Yeah, I prance in the grocery store. Why not? Now that I’m an adult and I have a steady job, I can get whatever I want. I don’t have to beg a parent to get me a giant bag of chips that I’ll probably nibble on for a minute and throw away later. I don’t have to justify any purchases anymore! I’m a grown man, and if I want to buy that Silly Putty in the toy section, I can do that! God, It’s so liberating.

The breakfast cereal aisle is my absolute favorite section of the grocery store. I usually get the most sugar loaded brand of cereal I can find. Take ‘Cookie Crisp’ for example. It’s nothing but a box of miniature chocolate chip cookies. How much more decadent can you get? Why don’t they just make a children’s cereal made out of chocolate bars, pop rocks, and jawbreakers? Better yet, make one for adults with Jack Daniel’s, coffee, and cigarettes?

Sometimes I’ll get a box of cereal just for the toy inside. I don’t care that I don’t even want the family sized Wheaties. They’re giving away wrist-held Batsignal and I need it! Why do I need it? Well, I can’t look like a totally cool superhero without it. DUH!

-B

Goin' my way?

As I was driving around last night, looking for my bible study class (yeah, right), I saw a couple of deer on the side of the road. They were so cute, and probably delicious, but that's besides the point.

As they started to step foot into the road all of the other cars started flashing their high beams and honking their horns, and that made me sad. After all, all those deer wanted was a ride and those poor creatures had no thumbs to hitchhike with.

People can be so cruel.

I'm not a doctor, but I play one in real life.

It’s funny how life altering revelations can get dropped in your lap sometimes. As I was eating supper, I think I found my calling in life tonight.

I was cutting into my steak and I noticed I was making some really precise and beautiful cuts. Maybe it was skill, or maybe it was all of these years of being a fat-ass who likes to eat fatty red meat. Either way, my knife work was excellent. Then it hit me, maybe I was born to be a surgeon.

Now, I know it takes more than just tearing into a T-bone to become a licensed doctor. It’ll take me months to get a degree from a highly regarded Tijuana medical school. I also know that there are plenty of other aspects of being a doctor I need to fully grasp. For example, I need to work on my bedside manner. I have a nasty habit of telling people who are hurt to ‘rub some dirt on it and walk it off’.

I also need to learn about prescribing the right medicine instead of giving people Tic-Tac’s. Sure, the pain wouldn’t go away, but their breath would be minty fresh. Actually, that’s how you could tell who my patients were. They’d be the ones constantly moaning in pain, but would smell terrific.

You know, the real reason I was good at cutting the meat (as well as the cheese, but that’s another story) is because I was also using a fork and I’m not sure that would fly too far in the operating room. My surgeries would go down the tubes because of it, “Nurse, pass me the scalpel. Now the clamps. Now the salad fork. What do you mean we don’t have a salad fork?! What kind of rinky-dink hospital is this anyway?!”

Oh well, maybe I should just stick to playing doctor with my girlfriend. At least I don’t have to worry about being slapped with a malpractice suit with her. But then again, I do take the game very seriously. I pay attention to every detail like wearing the lab coat, using the stethoscope, and making sure my interns take precise notes. She gets creeped out by having a bunch of medical school students in the bedroom, but how else are they going to learn?

-B

Returns, excuses, and storms.

Sorry for the long lapse in posts. I'd like to give you all a good reason why I haven't been on the ball, but I don't have one. What I do have, however, is a bunch of totally unrelated excuses that won't explain my actions, but should draw your attention away from my laziness:

1. I didn't mean to blow you off, but my world domination plans have thickened.
2. My dog ate my posts, and by 'my dog' I mean 'me' and by 'ate my posts' I mean 'sat on the couch and stuffed my face with cheetos all night'.
3. It was the Germans.
4. How can I post with the state of global economics and unilateral affairs are in the state they're in?
5. They don't make the internet like they used to.
6. The virgin sacrifices took way longer than I expected.
7. The man on the TV told me to stay tuned. I didn't want to let him down.
8. My stigmata was acting up.
9. Time travel accident.
10. Remember that movie with the little kid and the alien and the flying bikes? Same thing happened to me.

Now with that out of the way, I can tackle a pressing issue, Hurricane Katrina. Ok, it was pressing a few weeks ago, but now that I've had time to digest most of it, I think I'm ready to comment. First off, for those of you who don't know, my family and friends down in Louisiana are ok. Houma was spared for the most part. Also, to those of you who asked about my family and showed me the utmost concern and compassion, thank you from the bottom of my heart.

For a while I was pretty nervous. After the storm hit I didn't get in touch with my family for about a week. I did get word that my parents left town and went to Houston. I wasn't worried too much about them leaving town. It was my oldest brother that I was worried about. I wasn't sure if he evacuated or not. In the back of my mind I could picture him half-naked in his driveway, with empty beer cans strewn about the yard, and screaming at God to "come and get you some of this, big boy!" Sure, that scenario seems a little silly, but for those of you who have met my brother, you all know that it isn't too far-fetched.

It's so very sad that the region got nailed the way it did. But then again, that's just the way nature plays the game. I feel bad for the folks who have lost so much and hopefully they'll find the courage to move through this. I can see both sides of the coin for the people who evacuated and the people who stayed put.

For the folks who left, regardless of how early or late they decided to take off, I understand them being concerned with their safety and the uncertainty of not knowing what they would come home to, if they even had a home to come back to at all. It's got to be tough when you're packing your things and you begin to think that there is a chance that these may be your only possessions after all of this is through.

For the folks who stayed put, I understand as well. To those of you say, "Well anyone who stayed deserved what they got", I say this, "Shut your lips!" Nobody, and I mean NOBODY deserves to lose their possessions, their homes, their family, their friends, or their lives. So the next time you hear anyone say that, call them on their ignorance, or if you yourself are thinking about saying that, hold that thought and let it be the stillborn idea it was meant to be.

Not everyone had the means or resources it took to leave town. Not everyone even knew how to leave. It's not something they teach us in school. There are no "Reading, Writing, and Running Like Hell" lesson plans in the curriculum. Once again, for whatever reason people stayed behind, NOBODY deserved this.

Now that I'm nice and spun up, I'd like to ask CNN and Fox News for a favor: Guys, I'm pleading with you, stop showing us just the sensational and negative sides of the story. We just want the facts, nothing more, nothing less. I don't want to see fifty reporters on the street getting tossed about in the wind. You can just tell me that it's windy. I'll believe you. It doesn't take getting clobbered by a flying mailbox to convince me. I'm really not that dense, regardless of what my friends have told you.

Also, there is much more news going on that just looting. Tell me the coordinates of the storm. Tell me how the levees are holding up. Tell me which shelters are open. Tell what roads are closed. We're not asking for much, except for news. Oh wait, I forgot that I was asking a news channel for all of this, I won't get none of that. Let's just watch another three hours of folks running about with bags in waist deep water.

While I've brought up looting, here's my take on it. I think it all comes down to someone's intention when it comes to taking things. 'Oh my goodness, are you condoning theft?' Well, sort of. If things are so bad where you don't have the resources to survive, then, by all means, go and get what you need live. You can always ask for forgiveness later. Now, if you've got your eyes on a kickass big-screen TV and are just waiting for the right natural disaster to go and get that bad boy, I say 'no'. I understand it's tempting. I think the same thoughts. Although I'm in Maryland, where we've got no natural disasters on tap, I'm still wishing for a giant 100 foot mutant bug to come rampage through my city so I can knockout my Christmas list at the local Best Buy. I'm saying this now, but I'm pretty sure if Mothra decided to hit town I'd go stock up on bug spray first before I stroll through video games section. Although, when the new version of Madden NFL Football comes out, I might make an exception.

Now most of you who know me know that I don't like talking politics. I don't care if you vote Democrat, Republican, Independent, Libertarian, Green Party, Mars Delegation, Purple Lizard People for a United Venus, or whatever. It's just not my thing. I have my thoughts and beliefs, and you have yours, and I like to leave it at that. But I will say this. Everyone who is trying to find out whose fault it is for the slow response time, or the distribution of resources, or the movement of the evacuees in the shelters, please shut up for a minute. Now is not the time to point fingers. Now is the time to clean up, pick each other up, help each other out, give to charities, and just try to fix the mess before any of us decides who did what to who. Right now, the only thing that can be blamed for Hurricane Katrina is Hurricane Katrina. And I'll tell you what, the hurricane doesn't give a damn if you hate it or not. I've cursed at many a storm and guess what, it didn't stop them one bit.

While I've been putting all of this together, I'm watching Hurricane Rita romping through the Gulf of Mexico. My thoughts and prayers go out to everyone who is and going to be affected by this one. I hope everyone who decided to leave got out safe, and I hope everyone who decided to stay batons down the hatches and makes it through alright.

Thanks for being so patient with me. Your support is appreciated.
-B

By the way, I'm trying new bells and whistles with the blog. Let me know what you think and if you have any tips, tricks, or suggestions you'd like to throw my way, drop a comment.

I'm wearing my Foghat to the opera.

A few days ago, my friends and I were sitting around having a few beers and shooting the breeze. We brought up the usual topics: midgets, porn, and Tijuana donkey shows. You know, if you think about it, the Tijuana donkey shows could fit into the midgets AND porn category. That's a piece of knowledge you'll never run across in a game of Trivial Pursuit.

Anyway, the radio was on a classic rock station and we were all jamming until one of my buddies popped up and said, "What band?" As soon as he said that, we all fell silent. It was as if you would have given a family of apes a calculus book. Blank stares all around. Then my buddy said, "C'mon, it's Foghat off of their 1975 album, Fool for the City...DUUUHHH!!!" This is when I promptly socked him in the arm.

Now I don't know about you, but I've always hated those goobers who feel it's their duty to quiz you on old songs. It makes it hard to jam out to some old tunes with some assclown over your shoulder going, "What band? What album? What year? What record label? Who was the first lead singer? Who was the third triangle player after they went to progressive rock?" SHUT THE HELL UP ALREADY!

You don't see people doing this stuff over opera. "What composer? Who's the tenor? Who is his understudy? Who was the fifth fat lady to audition for this part? What's her bra size?"

-B

http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y245/Y2Cajun/022ElP.jpg

Can I get you anything, sir?

My girlfriend and I went out to dinner the other night. No, it wasn't the type of place where they ask if I'd like to 'supersize' anything. I guess that's because she chose the restaurant. Although, I would have bought her the hot apple pie. I like to pamper my baby.

As we went through ordering everything, our waiter, Brad, seemed to be really excited over everything we wanted. He'd ask us what we wanted to drink, then he'd freak out and go, "Excellent choice!" When we ordered the appetizer, he did it again, "Fabulous! This is really good!" As we went through the rest of menu, he just kept on doing it, and it was starting to make me feel like he wasn't being sincere. When my girlfriend asked for another glass of water he said, "Ooooh, good call ma'am!" That's when I knew he was just kissing our asses for a good tip.

I hate it when waiters try to schmooze you after you make a menu choice just to get an extra few bucks. It makes me feel like a retarded kid who just gave his parents the 37th piece of macaroni art but they don't want to tell him that they're sick of his terrible pasta creations so they just say things like "Oooh, Corky, that's sooooo good. You're so special!"

And another thing, it doesn't matter what you order, they're gonna say that patronizing crap anyway. I could have ordered a turd on a cracker and Brad would've gushed over my choice of cuisine by saying, "Tremendous choice, sir. I just had that last week." Well Brad, wipe the crap outta your teeth and get me another round of drinks, you're gonna have to find another way to hustle these last few bones outta my pocket.

-B
http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y245/Y2Cajun/021ElP.jpg

Thank ya. Thank ya vera much...

Did I mention I'm glad to be done with the ass story? Just checking.

I know this is a week late, but I'd like to personally thank everyone who came out to our show at the DC Improv last Thursday. It was good to see all of you. I hope we put on a good show for you and I hope you had as much fun watching it as we did doing it. Thanks, again, for supporting live comedy and I hope we can do it again really soon.

Oh, and I'd like to give a special 'thanks' to my crazy cheering section..."Hey Bart! Nice shirt!" You guys are nuts...and I like it.

-B

http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y245/Y2Cajun/020ElP.jpg

By the way, there is another DICSC show on the 24th of August at the DC Improv. I won't be in it, but won't you stop by and check it out? The shows are always funny and it will be loaded with a very talented cast.

While I'm making plugs, if you're in the Centreville, VA area on August 12th or 13th go to Lafterhours and see my mentor and role model Matt Kazam. He's a great comedian and good person. Look for details at http://www.lafterhours.com/

Chapter 5...The Conclusion...finally!

Ok, it's time for chapter 5...for my Latin friends, it's chapter cinco. For my friends in Joliet, Illinois...well, I don't have any friends from there. If you happen to be from Joliet, hi there! Would you like to be my friend? (You probably won't after reading this blog.) Here we go...

I got an appointment with a surgeon and went in to see him. He was a very nice guy. He only punched me in the nose once! What a sweetheart. Anyway, after we got my nose to stop bleeding, he examined my butt and scheduled me down for surgery. Yeah, THAT kind of surgery. The kind where they admit you in a hospital and put you out. I bet my butt's ego was feeling pretty good. After all, it had been getting tons of attention.

A week later I went on down to the hospital. I've got to admit I was a little scared. Regardless of how minor the surgery is, there is still a chance of dying when they put you out and I started getting ready for my death, just in case. I had it all planned out too. I was going to have midget Elvis impersonators, a dancing monkey show...ok, that's as far as I planned it. I still wasn't sure on what I wanted done to my body. I either wanted to have my crotch cremated and sprinkled over the Virgin Islands, or have my body wrapped in Saran Wrap and let my friends do things like hit me with a baseball bat and shoot me out of a cannon.

Regardless of how far I had planned, it was time to go under the knife. They rolled my bed into the operating room and placed a mask on my face. The attendant told me the mask was for oxygen and I was cool with that. Then the smell of the mask changed. I asked if it was the gas, but all I could get out was, "Hey, you tricked me. You dirty motherblaamuuuffffff..." Off to sleep I went.

I didn't have any visions of going through a tunnel or seeing a white light when I was under, so I guess things went smoothly. When I woke up, I was really loopy and my butt hurt. Unlike other punchlines to most jokes I've heard and told, this was supposed to happen.

The recovery period over the next few weeks was a pain in the butt. Seriously, it was. After the swelling went down, which was hard to tell because of my fat ass, I took a look at the damage. Not only did they remove the cyst, but they gave me a boob job too! Ok, I'm kidding, the boobs were there before the surgery.

Just about a month ago, I finally got the stitches out and I was given a clean, bill of health. All I've got to show for it now is a huge scar that makes my ass look like it's got gills, and a few doctor bills to pay. This will definitley put my professional mooning career on hold for about a year. You know, at least they could have gave me a T-shirt that says, "If you think my face is ugly, you should see my ass!", and a lollipop for all of this. Oh well, at least it feels good to sit down again.

Thanks for bearing with this long story. Now we can get back to the business of funny thoughts and dangerous ideas again. Thanks, again, for playing along...

-B
http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y245/Y2Cajun/019ElP.jpg