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Archive for December, 2008

Tiger Woods is the first athlete in history to bank $100 million in a year. That’s a lot of balls. The astrological sum is thanks in part to a raise he finagled out of long-time endorser Nike. The deal is this: Nike gives Tiger up to $100 million to promote its products for a further five years in a deal thought to be the largest of its kind. That’s livin’ large.

The Curmudgeon wants to live large. I want it, I want it, I want it. So I say to all you “endorsees” out there, “the Crusty Curmudgeon is ready to shill for your agenda, service, software, hardware, vitamins, penis enlargers, maxi pads, cars, flowers, candies, beer, liquor, perfume, cologne, soap, shampoo, realpoo, cigarettes, cigars, airline, vacation spot, city, country, law office, bail bonds, erection pills, Spanish fly, fruit fly, pest control, website, building site, TV show, burlesque show, movie, theater, home repair service, escort service, secret service, etcetera, etcetera.”

In short, I’ll endorse almost anything. I left out porn because I wouldn’t do a thing like that (attn. porn purveyors: contact me on my private line). Granted, I am not Tiger Woods. Nike didn’t waste their money either. The pre-Tiger Nike golf division was a barely a blip on the screen and today they do $600 million annually. If Tiger got a piece of the pie I only need a crumb. Come on Old Spice. I can even whistle that song for you. How about you, Extense? I’ll “grow” with your company. Come deep pockets all. I am ready to shill.

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stupidstuff.com

stupidstuff.com

Remember, if you smoke after sex you’re doing it too fast.” – Woody Allen

Here in the extravagant offices of the Crusty Curmudgeon, where the walls are thin and the staff is loud, some employees were overheard discussing this titillating topic. I began to ponder why people smoke after sex. Apparently we have nothing better to do around here than ponder things and talk about sex..

For one thing, smoking after a physical activity (not that I would know from personal experience) is always better. You’re totally relaxed. All that heavy breathing kind of cleans out the lungs and the smoker wants to put smoke back in it. It feels good. After sex feels good too, so it’s normal to try to increase the pleasure with a cigarette. I suggest this is the primary reason people smoke after sex – besides doing it too fast that is.

This theory is supported by Richard Klein, author of Cigarettes Are Sublime and quoted on Time magazine’s website:

“Cigarettes, he says, present benefits, universally acknowledged by society. These benefits are connected with the release and consolation that cigarettes provide, with the the mechanism they offer for regulating anxiety and for mediating social interaction.”

Uh…yea. I think he means it feels good.

So there you have it. Another of life’s little mysteries cleared up. And tomorrow class, we’ll discuss the larger question: “Why Do People Have Sex.” And you might be asked to participate in a scientific study.

Jaques of the Curmudgeon staff responds:

jaques-french-man Bonjour! In France, we love our cigarettes with zee passion. Do za French smoke after zee rapports sexuels? We French smoke during zee rapports sexuels!

To all my female fans,  Jaques loves you as  zee moon loves zee lover!

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fart-guy

Here in the plush offices of the CC (that’s Crusty Curmudgeon for you neophytes), we’re always on the lookout for odd police actions. Sometimes, when were not too busy stuffing our faces with truffled turkey and martini’s, we even write about them. I do so today with this tale of a tail.

…and then he struck a match and…KABOOM!

West Virginia, steeped in rich history such as hillbillies, strip-mining, and black lung, is host to our report of police abuse. Jose A. Cruz was pulled over for driving without headlights. According to the cops, the complaint said he smelled of alcohol, had slurred speech and failed three sobriety tests. He was handcuffed and taken to the station for a breathalyzer test.

As patrolman T.E. Parsons prepared the machine, Cruz scooted his chair towards the cop, lifted his leg and “passed gas loudly.” And then he fanned it in the general direction of the cop. The cop wrote in his complaint, “The gas was very odorous and created contact of an insulting or provoking nature with Patrolman Parsons.” Oh, the humanity!

Cruz admitted that he cut one, but denied moving his chair toward the cop nor aiming his poot at the officer. He further claimed he had an upset stomach and the police wouldn’t let him use the bathroom.

“I couldn’t hold it no more,” he eloquently stated.

He also denied the rest of it, i.e., being drunk and uncooperative. Cruz stated that the cops thought the poot incident was funny at the time, yukking it up with him, but then the complaint said different.

When asked how he felt about the complaint now, Cruz lamented, “This is ridiculous. I could be facing time.”

Think of the precedent this could set. The lawsuit potential alone is mind-boggling. Does your spouse let ’em rip while your sleeping? Sue ’em! Someone accidentally let one escape while you’re standing in line behind them? Sue ’em! It’s not like the court system doesn’t stink enough as it is. The insurance companies will be right behind the movement, smelling money. You’ll need personal gas insurance.

This is going to be a big new thing. Remember, you got a whiff of it here first!

The Shameless Self-Promotion Section

Speaking of lawsuits, they keep getting wackier and wackier. I just published this article on my five favorite frivolous lawsuits and the decay of the American Justice System. You can read it here: Five Stupid Lawsuits: You Don’t Like It, Sue Me!

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computer-jail2

Or is that “watch your fingers?” Nothing scares us around the offices of The Crusty Curmudgeon more than news of “the man” cracking down on the freedom of speech on the Internet. Not that we have ever disparaged anybody. Well, OK, a few celebrities, but they’re famous and they asked for it. But, you never know when we might want to lay into the car repair guy down the street or that rude checkout chick at the grocery, Yolanda, I think her name is– what a cretin bitch!–which is why we’re all a little twitchy today.

Cyber-bullying they called it. Just the other day, the woman from the “MySpace Cyber-bully Case” was only convicted on three counts of the lesser offense of accessing a computer without authorization on account of of she violated the MySpace Terms of Service. It’s a sad, sad thing that happened to that girl, but I don’t know if the mother is responsible for her death any more than J.D. Salinger is responsible for the death of John Lennon (Mark David Chapman had a copy of the book Catcher In the Rye in his back pocket at the time of the shooting).

Now comes this: In Colorado, A man has been charged with criminal libel for making unflattering comments about his former lover and her attorney. Seems he “suggested” she was trading sex for legal services. Normally, libel is a civil case, but Colorado has an antiquated 1800’s era statute that allows prosecution for speech “tending to blacken the memory of one who is dead” or to “expose the natural defects of one who is alive, and thereby to expose him to public hatred, contempt or ridicule.” Holy tort! It doesn’t even matter if what you say is true or even if the person is dead. They can still get you. She could have really been boinking for briefs and IT DOESN’T MATTER. Criminal libel carries a punishment of up to 18 months in prison just for shooting your mouth off. Now you know why we’re all twitchy around here.

Steve Zansberg, a Denver attorney specializing in first amendment law, said prosecutors seeking criminal libel cases could have a “chilling” effect on free speech in Colorado, particularly over the Internet.

It could be you (I saw what you wrote last summer). Do you know what outdated, moronic statutes are buried deep in the books where you live, just waiting for an over-zealous cop or an ambitious (and I mean that in the Shakespearean sense) prosecutor to come along and start swinging their dicks? So beware, my friends. You’d better keep you fingers shut. Even the dead can get you. Damn zombies!

The Shameless Self-Promotion Section

Which got me wondering about other trouble I could get into. I recently wrote a satirical piece about growing penicillin in your refrigerator and using it to cure yourself and your children of illnesses. Because of the way I had worked references and links into the piece, it had an air of authority in spite of it’s absurdity, even concluding that you could sell your homegrown penicillin on the black market. Some intelligent people thought that some of it was the truth, and then the inevitable question of what if some kid read it, thought it was true, and ate a big hand-full of mold? Could I be held liable if he got really sick or died? It was enough of a fear that I added a disclaimer, which is pretty damn hysterical all by itself. If you’d like to read it go to Make Home Grown Penicillin: Don’t Clean Out That Refrigerator. It’s funny.

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