Heaven Must, Indeed, Be Paradise!!

I mean, who wouldn’t want to spend eternity in the presence of someone who proudly inflicts unending torture upon billions of souls not deemed heaven-worthy? 

BILL

I Graduated From Amelia Earhart High

Unfortunately, my diploma went missing so nobody believes me.

BILL

Christmas is the time...

… when – per legend - we celebrate the birth of the man who shall toss me into the same fiery bowels of Hell as Adolf Hitler, der Fuehrer for killing six million Jews, me for refusing to praise a deity who would plunge me into the same fiery bowels of Hell as Adolf Hitler.

Oh well…

BILL

"Underdog": A Childhood Memory

When I was young, I never missed the Saturday morning cartoon “Underdog.” Even at a tender age, I felt a kinship with the plucky, cape-wearing hound. Perhaps because, like me, he was small. Or maybe because he forever had to prove himself against mightier adversaries. Then again, it could have been because my parents fed me dog food.

BILL

I Used To Work For Mrs. Fields

She fired me as head of marketing for this campaign:

“Ginger Snaps!  Movie Star Slays Six in Bloody Island Rampage”

BILL

Try This Some Time

Next time someone says “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone,” step up and say “That would be me.”  This little gem has gotten me belly laughs at every stoning I have ever attended.

BILL

I Want My MTV! (And a Lot of Other Stuff!!)

Can anyone pinpoint when exactly – per the Declaration of Independence – our inalienable right to the pursuit of happiness was misconstrued by far too many as an inalienable right to happiness per se?

BILL

The Man With No Feet: A Christmas Story

This holiday season I recall how once – mired in the self-absorbed petulance of youth – I complained about the quality of my new sneakers.   Just then, I spotted a man in a wheelchair, the stubs of his lower legs jutting prominently from the rust-adorned contraption from which he could never escape.

“Excuse me, sir,” I asked. “Am I crazy or are these the sorriest shoes you ever laid eyes on?”

“My man,” he said, his caustic laughter causing me to blush, “those are some sorry ass shoes!”

BILL

A New Low, Even By Ann Coulter Standards

Liberal Democrat though I may be and, no, I didn’t vote for the man, but sorry, I’m afraid Senator John McCain is on my list of folks who should never, ever be called – as you did recently - a “douche bag,” said waiver stemming from the fact that he served his country admirably during a contentious war, had both arms and a leg broken upon ejecting from his aircraft, nearly drowned upon landing, had his shoulder crushed by a rifle butt by his captors, was refused medical treatment at the time, was held as a prisoner of war in solitary confinement for two years, was subjected to rope bindings and repeated beatings every two hours, while at the same time was suffering from dysentery, and to this day is unable to lift his arms properly.

BILL

"4th and 45: An Altar Boy's Story"

There I was, quarterbacking my high school team in the fall of 75, undefeated record on the line in this final game of the season.  Down by six on the visitor’s 45 with three seconds on the clock, we huddled.

“A Hail Mary is our only chance!” Tubby Miller exclaimed, his pudgy face dripping sweat despite the chill November air.

“What, are you f**king crazy?” I darn near shouted, absolute shock registering on my face.

My query met a chorus of resistance from the other guys.

“OK..  If you say so,” I replied, rolling my eyes.  I knelt in prayer, clasped my hands and began:  “Hail Mary, full of grace—“

My prayer was interrupted by the harsh tweet of the referee’s whistle.  Flagged for delay of game, we ended up losing. 

BILL

Well, Herman Cain, You're Right About One Thing:

If you can’t get the job you’re looking for, it’s your fault.

BILL

I Grew Up In An Alcoholic Home

And man could this kid put it away.

BILL

The Fat Five

I’ll be spending Thanksgiving with my pals Dinty Moore and Bud Light. Ben and Jerry might come over, too.

BILL

Church Chat

In 1993 my parents showed me the church they attended in a small town in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.  An elderly lady directed my attention to one of the many stained glass windows, noting how one could make out the image of the Blessed Mary along one portion of the glass.  Granted, there was a tenuous resemblance to a female image housed within the fragments of color but I resisted the urge to say: “How do you know it’s not Mary’s neighbor Mildred?”

BILL

A Veterans Day Memory

Many of you don’t know this but I lost my Grandpa Willie at Normandy.  The senile old coot was staggering about the crosses and soon enough got himself so disoriented I lost him.  Me?  I was pretty hammered at the time so I guess it was as much my fault as his.  Story has a happy ending though.  With the help of a surprisingly helpful and very pretty young French woman I eventually found him.  An hour after she left though I noticed my wallet was gone.  Oh well.  Viva La France….

BILL

Herman's a Hermit

Don’t scurry for cover, Herman Cain. You’ve called your accusers liars. Now up the ante by calling them out! Aside from stating categorically that anyone who would do what you have been accused of would be majorly out of line, tell them that you are more than willing to take a lie detector test and challenge them to do the same. Don’t let them get away with what they are doing (which, by the way, is attempting to destroy and humiliate you). Don’t just deny these accusations! Put those spreading them in their place!

You stated at yesterday’s press conference that you would take a lie detector test if you had a “good reason.” What?!? Eviscerating the scandalous lies of false accusers bent on destroying your good name isn’t a good enough reason? What pray tell would be then?!?

Make them put away their banners reading: You Can’t Spell “Grope” Without GOP by exonerating yourself with a lie detector test and end this sordid carnival.

BILL

Keep Digging That Hole, Herman

Aside from changing his story so often that it could be flow-charted with a lava lamp, presidential candidate Herman Cain said he believes race is a factor in his recent sexual harassment imbroglio “but we don't have any evidence to support it." (Actual quote).

Well, I believe I am the sexiest man alive, even though I have no evidence to support it.

BILL

Wedding Bell Blues

People say marriage is work, yet nobody gets paid to be married.  Marriage is therefore a form of slavery.  Furthermore, to the extent that--  hold on, my wife wants me to take out the garbage.

BILL

My All Time Worst Halloween Costume

I once came to work wearing a beehive but ended up being sued by four coworkers for the numerous bee stings they sustained.

BILL

Makes Me Want To Believe in a Hell

After Senator Edward Kennedy's death, Ed Klein, an editor for New York Times Magazine and an author of several books about the Kennedy family, stated that Kennedy asked people he met, "Have you heard any new jokes about Chappaquiddick?"

(This from a man who in one night probably cheated on his wife, drove drunk, killed a woman and, by failing to report the accident, essentially covered up a felony. To this mind-boggling insensitivity people should have responded: “No, Teddy, but what would Lee Harvey Oswald’s favorite song have been had he lived? Meat Loaf’s Two Out of Three Ain’t Bad.”)

BILL

My Least Favorite Movie Villain Name

“Freddi Krueger.”

I’m sorry, but this does not remotely evoke a nightmare on Elm Street but rather images of the dude bagging my groceries.

BILL

Let's Concentrate on New Ideas

GOP Presidential candidate Herman Cain stole, yes, stole his idea for an electrified fence along the US-Mexican border from Auschwitz concentration camp commander Rudolf Hoess.

C’mon, Herman, let’s at least try to be original…

BILL

Female Anchor Interview Questions - Fox News

1) Are you hot?

2) Have you ever been described as hot?

3) Are you remotely offended or flattered if described by someone as hot?

4) Are you at least twenty years younger than our average male anchor?

5) Would you be opposed to co-anchoring with old, fat, bald males when you yourself look so hot?

6) Have you ever uttered the words: “I want to see the birth certificate?”

7) Would you be open to going blonde?

8) Is your physique “fair and balanced?”

9) Would you sue male co-anchors should they find themselves aroused by your hotness, knowing it is this quality in particular that helped you obtain your position here at Fox News? (Google former Fox producer “Andrea Mackris” should you require further information.)

10) Can you speak knowledgably on the issues of the day?

The correct answers are: 1) yes 2) yes 3) flattered 4) yes 5) no 6) Yes 7) Yes 8) Yes 9) No 10) This is a bonus question; we don’t really care that much.

You must score 90% or better in order to apply.

BILL (O’REILLY)

Go figure…

Happily carless lo these many years, I’ve noticed that, while there are countless – and I mean countless - handicapped (wheelchair-logo) placards hanging along the front mirror of cars, the only actual wheelchairs I ever see are resting beneath people riding the bus.

BILL

Leon Lett Me Down

Who will be the pro football coach brave enough to bench a player for celebrating his touchdown before actually scoring it, said action – history has proven – greatly elevating the chances of a turnover that might cost his team the game, that is to say an action showing that the player values his hot-dogging more than he does his team’s success?

BILL

To My Liberal Comrades!

Citizen Cain has outed us! Looking his countrymen in the eye this Sunday, he trumpeted what has been our goal all along: the destruction of America. While the element of surprise is now lost, the cause remains! To the ramparts, friends!!!

BILL

While It's True I'm a Natural Smart Ass

I’m quick to remind folks that admitting this should in no way slight the years I have devoted to honing my craft.

(To which they usually respond: Smart ass....)

BILL

Dream Weasel

Once, on a day on which I did not need to get up at my usual hour, I was awakened by the sound of a barking dog.  Upon awakening, I realized that the barking dog had occurred only in my dream.

This annoyed me greatly, wide awake as I now was, until I realized that the house was on fire.

BILL

My Favorite Candy Bar

I suppose if I had to pick one, it would be Butterfingers, for every time I bite into one I bask in the nostalgic glow of the endless taunts I received when playing wide receiver in high school.

BILL

"You Look Like Shit"

For my money, this is the most overused line of dialog in the history of movies. What bothers me most however is that only once have I seen it spoken to a character who - shall we say - wasn’t looking his or her best. It is, I might add, spoken to George Clooney in the otherwise brilliant “Michael Clayton.” I’m sorry, but George Clooney wouldn’t look like shit if you dipped him up to his hairline in a vat of manure.

BILL

All My Rubey Friends

Sorry, Hank Williams Jr., no ESPN did not – as you say - dip a toe into going against the First Amendment and freedom of speech when they canned you from Monday Night Football. That would be if the government had done so. ESPN acted freely, choosing to forgo using your little tune because, after all, it’s a free country.

BILL

Top 10 Phrases Not Found in Rap Songs

In keeping with the Socratic method….

I’m open-minded enough to grant due consideration to…

Have you given any thought to…

But as a wise man once said…

Accordingly and with all due respect to the feminine half of the species…

We must be ever mindful of the fact that…

Granted, I am first and foremost the type disinclined to speak up on such matters but…

Seeing how the pen is mightier than the sword…

Discretion being the better part of valor….

While mindful that some historians might disagree with this notion…

BILL

Take That Michael Vick!

Former NFL quarterback and current San Francisco 49ers coach Jim Harbaugh has not washed his pickup since March of this year because he does not want to kill the spider residing in its web in the back of the truck.

BILL

PS – Last year, Harbaugh’s Stanford team went 11-1.

Question For Our Times

If the suggestion of raising taxes on the wealthy is construed by many to be “class warfare,” wouldn’t this make taxation as an act of war?  Or would we limit that to such things as “taxation without representation?”  You know, like the unrepresented residents of the District of Columbia endure.

BILL

I'm Not Saying Writing Drives One To Drink...

… but screenwriter Aaron Sorkin’s first three acting gigs were playing a man in a bar.

BILL

Each Morning When He Awakens...

… John Travolta drops to his knees to give thanks to God and a statuette of Quentin Tarantino.  (Not in that order of course.)

BILL

Hey Wolf, Try Asking THIS Question at The Tea Party Debates

“Seeing how all of you are Christians approving of the decision to kill Osama bin Laden, would you be willing to look the American people in the eye and state that your personal Lord and Savior, i.e. the Son of God, was hopelessly naïve when it came to the ‘love your enemies’ thing and, if not, explain how assassinating someone is an expression of love?”

BILL

Hard Copies = Hard Bodies!

A year ago, I told you of my new job as a traveling salesman for hard copy encyclopedias. The job is challenging to say the least, the sheer weight of the volumes such that I am limited to lugging around no more than two volumes at a time.

BILL

The Question Must Simply Be Rephrased

I’m sure I speak for many Americans when I say that those being asked to sing “The Star Spangled Banner” at televised sporting events must simply have the question posed to them not as:

“Are you available to sing our nation anthem on (insert date and stadium here)?”

but rather:

“Before discussing dates and venues, we must ask: are you physically capable of singing the words and music to our national anthem and can we obtain a solemn promise from you that you will resist the urge to rewrite the song while performing it into something more to your liking?”

I think our problem arises simply from a poorly worded question.

BILL

My Fellow Americans

Sharing your concerns with regards to our national debt, I am calling on all of us to make September 12 a day on which all of us pray for the national debt to disappear!!

Now please don’t scoff. After all if a Presidential candidate can make such a wish with regards to the weather, I can do the same when it comes to our debt. Moreover, if you’re a believer who finds my idea laughable, then it means you believe the Almighty can create a universe but is unable to crunch a few numbers. Oh ye of little faith….

C’mon, everybody! Verily I say unto you, let’s drop to our knees, clasp our hands together and make this happen! Let’s start at a financial ground zero the day after ground zero!

BILL

Sounds Like Presidential Material To Me!

In April, Texas Governor Rick Perry called for three days of prayer in an attempt to lessen statewide drought conditions, his appeal worsening the problem by a factor of four.  Now I know some folks like to say that sometimes God answers prayers by saying “no,” however in this instance The Almighty seems to have told Perry to engage in an intimacy with a rolling donut.

BILL

PS – Bonus chuckles you ask?   While his state burns, the man who vows to make Washington as "inconsequential" to Americans' lives as possible both continues asking for federal emergency aid and maintains that his denial of the existence of global warming puts him in the company of… Galileo!  No, kids, you can’t make this stuff up…. 

"I Say This From The Bottom of My Heart"

What is it about the bottom of one’s heart that inherently imbues the words that follow with a heightened sense of sincerity? I would think the upper ventricle portion would be far more conducive to a genuine sense of forthrightness.

BILL

Jolly Ranchers and Gay Farmers

I suppose I would have infinitely more respect for those opposed to same sex marriage if they protested just as loudly whenever a 23-year old centerfold marries a drooling, catheter-hooked 95-year-old billionaire, or when a gay man enters into a passionless union with a woman, their nuptials utterly devoid of physical intimacy. Sadly, neither scenario scores even the mildest of dents in the much ballyhooed concept of “Holy matrimony.”



BILL

I've Made My Peace With Being a Nail Biter

What troubles me is that I only bite other people’s nails.

BILL

Jolly Ranchers and Gay Farmers

I suppose I would have infinitely more respect for those opposed to same sex marriage if they protested just as loudly whenever a 23-year old centerfold marries a drooling, catheter-hooked 95-year-old billionaire, or when a gay man enters into a passionless union with a woman, their nuptials utterly devoid of physical intimacy. Sadly, neither scenario scores even the mildest of dents in the much ballyhooed concept of “Holy matrimony.”

BILL

Dream Weasel

I dreamt I met writer-director Christopher Nolan. In the dream, he explained the complex workings of the plot to his thoroughly impressive film, Inception. “I get it!,” I cried. “I see how it all comes together now!” Just then, my alarm went off, and morning alertness began washing away the details of the dream as if they never existed at all. Now I’m all confused again.

BILL

Recent Michael Vick quote:

"I miss dogs, man. I always had a family pet, always had a dog growing up. It was almost equivalent to the prison sentence, having something taken away from me for three years. I want a dog just for the sake of my kids, but also me. I miss my companions.”

“I also miss drowning and hanging them when they underperform.”

(OK, I added that last part.)

BILL

Election 2012

Texas Governor Rick Perry is officially in the race, vowing that, if elected president, he would work to make Washington as "inconsequential" to Americans' lives as possible.

In other news, Neo-Nazi Heinrich Moeller has tossed his hat into the ring to head the Jewish Defense League, pledging to “boldly steer the group into the realm of utter irrelevance.”

BILL

I Love To Do This

Whenever I meet a rabid anarchist, I glance over their shoulder with a look of shock on my face and say, “Oh, my God!” Invariably, they turn around. Seeing nothing, they turn back to me, this time catching only a fleeting glimpse of my fist as it thunders into their soon-to-be-bloody face. I then gaze down upon them as they lie dazed along the sidewalk, spitting out teeth, stab my clenched fist high into the air and shout: “Anarchy rules!!!”

BILL

Is This My Lucky Day or What?!

A lady at work brought in some homemade banana bread. Seconds after she peeled away the cellophane, I dove in. As I brought a slice to my lips I realized that it was, in fact, two slices stuck together. Having touched both, good manners dictated neither be returned.

“Look. I meant to take one, but got two accidentally,” I said, taking a generous bite.

“Yeah, right. Tell us about it, Pinocchio,” she replied.

My mouth full, I burst out laughing, spraying the entire plate of banana bread with a fine mist of saliva-caked crumbs, obligating me to seize all of the remaining slices for my personal consumption, to be savored over the course of what turned out to be a marvelous day.

BILL

Is This Hell? (No... It's Iowa)

As a result of a disastrous zero percent showing in the recent Iowa straw poll, I am ending my candidacy for the presidential nomination.

BILL

PS - Oh, and of course this means I’m going back to my original position on the issue of abortion.

"All The President's Men"

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Orientation in Heaven

My spiritual medium pal Rusty informs me that new arrivals are warned never to utter the following to Jesus: “I’ll keep you posted.”

BILL

America NEEDS Kanye West!!

True, we’ve had to suffer another one of his silly rants, this time invoking Adolf Hitler into his woe-is-me diatribe. But let’s face it, we all have moments when we ask ourselves: “Am I crazy? Am I losing it? Have I lost touch with reality?” Kanye West reminds us – time and again – that, no, we’re doing just fine, flawed sinners though we may be. I say we owe him a debt of gratitude. So let me be the first to say: thank you, Kanye.

BILL

My Duet With Tony Bennett

To no one’s surprise, our new single (“Flog Me No More”) took a critical drubbing, one reviewer skewering our effort with: “This clown is not only tone deaf but couldn’t carry a tune if you gave him a bucket. Bill fares no better!”

BILL

"What Do You Want?! An Engraved Invitation?!"

Some time back, I began replying to this in the affirmative and – odd though it may seem – have subsequently amassed a rather sizable and very attractive collection of same.

BILL

Bill's New Work Hours

As a lifelong liberal, i.e. one bent on destroying America, the time has come for me to finally start cutting back on my hours. As you can well imagine, bringing down a country, especially a lumbering behemoth like the USA, is a time-consuming endeavor, one fraught with endless weekend work and frequent sleep deprivation, the latter in particular having taken a nasty bite out of my usually chipper mood. This being so, I will no longer be able to help any of my friends or family move.

Sorry for any inconvenience and thank you for understanding.

BILL

Why Certainly I'm an Organ Donor!!

In keeping with the “Organ Donor” sticker on the back of my driver’s license, I trucked my late mum’s vintage Hammond down to the DMV last week. You should have seen the wide-eyed looks I got as I rolled this sucker through the door! Here’s hoping everyone waiting in those long lines enjoy whatever tunes are played on their behalf.

BILL

Reason 1,218 Why I'm Single

Only a fool would marry me. And I would never marry a fool.

BILL

I'm In Mourning

A while back I told you of the depressed state of mind of most of my billionaire friends, none of whom seem able to put a dent in the problem of job creation. Sadly, one took his life just yesterday, leaving this note:

“What can I say? The billions of dollars, the court side seats at Laker games, the eight homes, the yachts, the supermodels, the fabulous food and drink, the travel to the world’s most beautiful vacation spots. None of these can dull the heartache that plagues my very being stemming from my inability to create jobs. I’m outta here.”

Bummer. I’m seriously worried about my other billionaire friends who, I fear, might partake in the same dark deed. I say we cut their taxes.

BILL

I'm In Mourning

A while back I told you of the depressed state of mind of most of my billionaire friends, none of whom seem able to put a dent in the problem of job creation. Sadly, one took his life just yesterday, leaving this note:

“What can I say? The billions of dollars, the court side seats at Laker games, the eight homes, the yachts, the supermodels, the fabulous food and drink, the travel to the world’s most beautiful vacation spots. None of these can dull the heartache that plagues my very being stemming from my inability to create jobs. I’m outta here.”

Bummer. I’m seriously worried about my other billionaire friends who, I fear, might partake in the same dark deed. I say we cut their taxes.

BILL

OK, I Admit, This Was VERY Poor Judgment On My Part

But I got drunk as a skunk at Betty Ford’s wake.

BILL

It Was BOUND to Happen!!!

Already, some of my married friends have filed for divorce in the last couple days, their once solid matrimonial pairing crumbling beneath the sheer, colossus-like weight of New York’s recent approval of same sex marriage. How many more heterosexual unions must be torn asunder before we rightfully defend traditional marriage against such relentless attacks? To the ramparts, friends!!!

BILL

Try This Some Time

Anytime someone says “Barack Obama is the worst president ever,” ask them “Really? Name one thing – good, bad or indifferent – that President Chester Arthur did.”

BILL

My Advice Re Negotiations in Afghanistan

I believe it is imperative that our first negotiating point with The Taliban be:

“Throw fifty percent less acid into the faces of teenage girls desiring an education.”

I believe The Taliban will grant this due consideration. After all, they are reasonable men.

BILL

I've Never Eaten A Chocolate Mousse

For fear of choking on the antlers.

BILL

A Father’s Day Memory

This Father’s Day, I recall with fondness when, during the anxiety-ridden days of my youth, this troubled lad sought solace in the wisdom of his father. With loving patience, Dad listened to the venting of my poor self-esteem, capped by my tear-filled blurting that I was “ugly.”

“No son of mine is ugly,” he said with quiet confidence.

“But Mom once told me you’re not my father,” I replied.

Without a word, Dad left the room, and our talks were never quite the same….

BILL

Yes, I Too Have Taken a Belated Leap Atop The Reagan Bandwagon!!

And as we mark the thirty year anniversary of AIDS, let us remember how it was Ronald Reagan, the Great Communicator himself, who failed to even mention AIDS for the first seven years of his administration. Stone-like silence in the face of a dreaded disease killing off thousands of your fellow citizens. This is character, my friends. This is leadership. And this is why I proudly assert the following: “Reagan in 2012: Dig Up Dem Bones!”

BILL

My Waiter Job Plans Imploded

Despite sufficient training I simply could not master timing my asking “And how is everything here?” at the exact moment when my customers’ mouths were stuffed with food. As this was a serious breach of table waiting protocol, I was summarily fired from Burger Boys.

BILL

Gramps is 102 Today!

And the dude is so old he listens to Jefferson Biplane albums.

BILL

I Agree With Defense Secretary Robert M. Gates

Any decision re our continued involvement in Afghanistan should be “based on conditions on the ground.” Now while I didn’t go to West Point, when my best friend and I played G.I. Joes, I’m fairly sure if our battle conditions on the ground hit the ten-year mark, at that point I’d utter these words: “Dude, I just can’t beat ya. I’m outta here.”

BILL

Wow! What a Story!!!

Who could not be moved by last week’s dramatic story from Louisville when little Haley Bergman took control of the airplane in which the six year old and her father were flying when he suffered a massive heart attack? Well, up until the plane crashed anyway.

BILL

Tales From A Blowhard

Evidently Joplin, Missouri was so wiped out after the tornado they’re considering renaming the town Janis Joplin. BILL

Kids Say The Darndest Things!

My son came home from Bible study wondering if eternal hellfire awaits him should he not choose Jesus as his personal Lord and Savior.

“I guess it does, Cletus,” I responded.

A look of confusion overcame him. “What’s a ‘terrorist threat’ again?” he inquired.

God love him, I didn’t know what to say!

BILL

Among The Mottled Memories of My Youth...

… perhaps the bleakest is the excruciating pain I suffered the first time I played kick the can, five shattered toes losing their battle against cold, hard porcelain.

BILL

Two Funny Words:

“Crocodile Gandhi”

BILL

Granted I'm Not a Studio Head

… but I really think actor John Malkovich should have held out for a lot more money for his role in “Being John Malkovich.”

BILL

A Hold Message I Would Like To Hear

Your call is important to us. Please stay on the line. (Jazzy hold music rises in volume, then lowers.)

We appreciate your patience. Please continue holding. (Jazzy hold music rises in volume, then lowers.)

We look forward to speaking with you. If you’ll just stay on the line a few more moments. (Jazzy hold music rises in volume, then lowers.)

This delay seems longer than even we expected. Thank you for your patience. (Jazzy hold music rises in volume, then lowers.)

Wow! You are one patient person! Congratulations! Your wait should not be much longer. (Jazzy hold music rises in volume, then lowers.)

OK, clearly, we don’t have our act together and there is something amiss in our procedure. Still, here you are. We’re so glad. (Jazzy hold music rises in volume, then lowers.)

Your patience is akin to that of a saint! And we appreciate that, because clearly we are incompetent. (Jazzy hold music rises in volume, then lowers.)

Have you ruled out that we’re just messing with your head by now? Seriously, I’d give it some thought if I were you. (Jazzy hold music rises in volume, then lowers.)

Clearly, you don’t have much to do if you’re waiting this long to talk to someone. Apparently, your time isn’t that valuable after all. And therefore, why should we value it? Goodbye. (Call disconnects.)

BILL

NEWS ITEM: "White House Releases Obama Birth Certificate"

I can hear the rubes now: “Whatdya think, I’m stupid? He’s the President of The United States! Ya think he can’t get a document faked? Hell, I was watching Jurassic Park and I was seeing dinosaurs. By golly, one of ‘em up and ate a lawyer fella while he was sitting on the privy. Now, I ain’t no rocket scientist, but I know that was a heckuva lot harder to pull off than some dad-gum piece of paper. Go back to Kenya, you commie!”

BILL

I've Enrolled in Mortician School!

Wish me well in my new undertaking!

BILL

Days of Too Much Wine and Roses

It’s a little known fact that, before coming to his senses, actor and hoops fan Jack Lemmon considered naming his son Meadowlark.

BILL

The Good Ship Capitalism Chugs Along Nicely, Thank You

Reality TV star Snookie – yes “Snookie” - of “Jersey Shore” was paid $32,000 to speak at Rutgers University. (Insert your own joke here.)

BILL

I'm Writing a New Book

“Passive Aggressiveness for Dummies.” The pages are entirely blank.

BILL

Not Sure How To Take This

The other day I informed my sons Nestor and Cletus that they are co-beneficiaries of my ever-growing 401(k) account. The next day I found a sky diving brochure on my windshield.

BILL

The Climate Change Deniers Oath

Annoyed by those pesky scientists, I am starting a petition to see how many Americans I can get to take the oath with me.  It reads as follows:

I (repeat name here), unschooled in the ways of climate science, feel I know better - on an issue of science - than the worldwide science academies who assert that global warming is happening, a conclusion bolstered by the absence of even a single scientific body* of national or international standing maintaining a dissenting opinion.

Let’s put these noisome scientists in their place!   Won’t you join me?

BILL

* FOXNews is not a scientific body

Shopping at Trader Joe's Depresses Me...

… for each time, I come face to face with the realization that I am a man too lazy to make a sandwich.

BILL

Whew! That Was a (Glenn) Close One!

I knew things weren’t going to work out between my then girlfriend Zelda and me when, while watching “Fatal Attraction,” she turned to me and said: “Wait, who are we rooting for again?”

BILL

Movie Product Placement Pros and Cons: A Tutorial

It’s a little known fact that Nestor Bynum, President and CEO of the Mars Company personally turned down Steven Spielberg’s request to feature Mars’s M&Ms in a most positive light in his 1982 film “E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial.” Bynum’s woefully inept decision resulted in The Hershey Company approving the same request for their Reese’s Pieces, sales of which skyrocketed upon the film’s release.

After hearing of Bynum’s inexplicably dense business decision, he was summarily fired by his Board of Directors.

Landing on his feet, however, Bynum soon headed the Fava Bean Growers of America, where – determined not to make the same mistake twice – he hurriedly approved without review Orion Pictures’ request for a fava beans mention in an upcoming film. Sadly, that mention was 1991’s “The Silence of The Lambs,” specifically Hannibal Lecter’s line “A census taker once tried to test me. I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti.” Fava bean sales plummeted to record lows, never fully recovering.

BILL

March to Madness

A certain former Speaker of the U.S. House of Representatives has reprimanded the President for making his NCAA men’s tournament basketball picks. Be honest now: who doesn’t love a morality lecture from a guy who cheated on his wife while she was lying in a hospital bed with cancer and then blamed his actions on his love of country? Now that’s character, and that is why this writer will be voting for Newt Gingrich for President in 2012.

BILL

Reason 1,291 Why I'm Single

I was in a conference room the other day and saw some earrings someone had left on a cabinet. I grabbed them on the way out, then set them on my desk with a note by them reading “YOURS??”

A female coworker came by, took one look at them and said: “These are picture hangers.”

BILL

"Red Riding Hood"

And remember, kids, when walking through the big bad wolf inhabited woods, always, always wear a very visible scalding bright crimson over most of your body.

BILL

"Red Riding Hood"

And remember, kids, when walking through the big bad wolf inhabited woods, always, always wear a very visible scalding bright crimson over most of your body.

BILL

A Side of Editorial With My Quake/Tsunami Combo Please

Funny how – with absolute, collective, knee jerk immediacy – we go right to the scientists to help steer us through the unsettling, dark reminders that we are all just riders on this mercurial and often ornery globe.

And yet… when it comes to the long-studied phenomenon of climate change, there are elements – I call them “rubes” for short - who consider these same scientists to be just flat out wrong, said disputation often spawned by no scientific background whatsoever.

Why the difference? The former requires no change of behavior; the latter is quite clear in stating we must.

BILL

Jolly Old St. Peter's Rule

I have a theory that if indeed there is a God, a heaven and a hell, if they can’t decide where your soul should spend eternity, they ask but one question of you: did you ever dress up as Santa for a group of innocent children?

If the answer is yes, they cast you into the fiery bowels of Hell for eternity.

BILL

WOW!!! I Stand CORRECTED!!

Having finally read the text, I can now appreciate the firestorm of controversy that occurred when the right wing rose up in protest over the President having the audacity to utter these words to America’s school children on 9/8/09. Midway through it, I could absolutely feel myself being sucked into some sinister void of netherworld indoctrination. It was scary!! Frightened by its dark allure, I ceased reading IMMEDIATELY. If you choose to read it, please do so in the presence of an adult, who might pull you away in the event your eyes begin to glaze over and you feel yourself being drawn toward a map of the former Soviet Union. “Hard work.” “Never giving up.” “Personal responsibility.” These are not the types of things that should be shared with our children!! Masked as benign insights, they are the hideous code of evildoers for things like “Kenya” “Reverend Wright” and “Beer Summit.” DO NOT BE FOOLED, America! My thanks to the right wing for their wary vigilance. We would be lost without them. BILL


Prepared Remarks of President Barack Obama: Back to School Event
Arlington, Virginia September 8, 2009

The President: Hello everyone – how’s everybody doing today? I’m here with students at Wakefield High School in Arlington, Virginia. And we’ve got students tuning in from all across America, kindergarten through twelfth grade. I’m glad you all could join us today.

I know that for many of you, today is the first day of school. And for those of you in kindergarten, or starting middle or high school, it’s your first day in a new school, so it’s understandable if you’re a little nervous. I imagine there are some seniors out there who are feeling pretty good right now, with just one more year to go. And no matter what grade you’re in, some of you are probably wishing it were still summer, and you could’ve stayed in bed just a little longer this morning.

I know that feeling. When I was young, my family lived in Indonesia for a few years, and my mother didn’t have the money to send me where all the American kids went to school. So she decided to teach me extra lessons herself, Monday through Friday – at 4:30 in the morning.

Now I wasn’t too happy about getting up that early. A lot of times, I’d fall asleep right there at the kitchen table. But whenever I’d complain, my mother would just give me one of those looks and say, "This is no picnic for me either, buster."

So I know some of you are still adjusting to being back at school. But I’m here today because I have something important to discuss with you. I’m here because I want to talk with you about your education and what’s expected of all of you in this new school year.

Now I’ve given a lot of speeches about education. And I’ve talked a lot about responsibility.

I’ve talked about your teachers’ responsibility for inspiring you, and pushing you to learn.

I’ve talked about your parents’ responsibility for making sure you stay on track, and get your homework done, and don’t spend every waking hour in front of the TV or with that Xbox.

I’ve talked a lot about your government’s responsibility for setting high standards, supporting teachers and principals, and turning around schools that aren’t working where students aren’t getting the opportunities they deserve.

But at the end of the day, we can have the most dedicated teachers, the most supportive parents, and the best schools in the world – and none of it will matter unless all of you fulfill your responsibilities. Unless you show up to those schools; pay attention to those teachers; listen to your parents, grandparents and other adults; and put in the hard work it takes to succeed.

And that’s what I want to focus on today: the responsibility each of you has for your education. I want to start with the responsibility you have to yourself.

Every single one of you has something you’re good at. Every single one of you has something to offer. And you have a responsibility to yourself to discover what that is. That’s the opportunity an education can provide.

Maybe you could be a good writer – maybe even good enough to write a book or articles in a newspaper – but you might not know it until you write a paper for your English class. Maybe you could be an innovator or an inventor – maybe even good enough to come up with the next iPhone or a new medicine or vaccine – but you might not know it until you do a project for your science class. Maybe you could be a mayor or a Senator or a Supreme Court Justice, but you might not know that until you join student government or the debate team.

And no matter what you want to do with your life – I guarantee that you’ll need an education to do it. You want to be a doctor, or a teacher, or a police officer? You want to be a nurse or an architect, a lawyer or a member of our military? You’re going to need a good education for every single one of those careers. You can’t drop out of school and just drop into a good job. You’ve got to work for it and train for it and learn for it.

And this isn’t just important for your own life and your own future. What you make of your education will decide nothing less than the future of this country. What you’re learning in school today will determine whether we as a nation can meet our greatest challenges in the future.

You’ll need the knowledge and problem-solving skills you learn in science and math to cure diseases like cancer and AIDS, and to develop new energy technologies and protect our environment. You’ll need the insights and critical thinking skills you gain in history and social studies to fight poverty and homelessness, crime and discrimination, and make our nation more fair and more free. You’ll need the creativity and ingenuity you develop in all your classes to build new companies that will create new jobs and boost our economy.

We need every single one of you to develop your talents, skills and intellect so you can help solve our most difficult problems. If you don’t do that – if you quit on school – you’re not just quitting on yourself, you’re quitting on your country.

Now I know it’s not always easy to do well in school. I know a lot of you have challenges in your lives right now that can make it hard to focus on your schoolwork.

I get it. I know what that’s like. My father left my family when I was two years old, and I was raised by a single mother who struggled at times to pay the bills and wasn’t always able to give us things the other kids had. There were times when I missed having a father in my life. There were times when I was lonely and felt like I didn’t fit in.

So I wasn’t always as focused as I should have been. I did some things I’m not proud of, and got in more trouble than I should have. And my life could have easily taken a turn for the worse.

But I was fortunate. I got a lot of second chances and had the opportunity to go to college, and law school, and follow my dreams. My wife, our First Lady Michelle Obama, has a similar story. Neither of her parents had gone to college, and they didn’t have much. But they worked hard, and she worked hard, so that she could go to the best schools in this country.

Some of you might not have those advantages. Maybe you don’t have adults in your life who give you the support that you need. Maybe someone in your family has lost their job, and there’s not enough money to go around. Maybe you live in a neighborhood where you don’t feel safe, or have friends who are pressuring you to do things you know aren’t right.

But at the end of the day, the circumstances of your life – what you look like, where you come from, how much money you have, what you’ve got going on at home – that’s no excuse for neglecting your homework or having a bad attitude. That’s no excuse for talking back to your teacher, or cutting class, or dropping out of school. That’s no excuse for not trying.

Where you are right now doesn’t have to determine where you’ll end up. No one’s written your destiny for you. Here in America, you write your own destiny. You make your own future.

That’s what young people like you are doing every day, all across America.

Young people like Jazmin Perez, from Roma, Texas. Jazmin didn’t speak English when she first started school. Hardly anyone in her hometown went to college, and neither of her parents had gone either. But she worked hard, earned good grades, got a scholarship to Brown University, and is now in graduate school, studying public health, on her way to being Dr. Jazmin Perez.

I’m thinking about Andoni Schultz, from Los Altos, California, who’s fought brain cancer since he was three. He’s endured all sorts of treatments and surgeries, one of which affected his memory, so it took him much longer – hundreds of extra hours – to do his schoolwork. But he never fell behind, and he’s headed to college this fall.

And then there’s Shantell Steve, from my hometown of Chicago, Illinois. Even when bouncing from foster home to foster home in the toughest neighborhoods, she managed to get a job at a local health center; start a program to keep young people out of gangs; and she’s on track to graduate high school with honors and go on to college.

Jazmin, Andoni and Shantell aren’t any different from any of you. They faced challenges in their lives just like you do. But they refused to give up. They chose to take responsibility for their education and set goals for themselves. And I expect all of you to do the same.

That’s why today, I’m calling on each of you to set your own goals for your education – and to do everything you can to meet them. Your goal can be something as simple as doing all your homework, paying attention in class, or spending time each day reading a book. Maybe you’ll decide to get involved in an extracurricular activity, or volunteer in your community. Maybe you’ll decide to stand up for kids who are being teased or bullied because of who they are or how they look, because you believe, like I do, that all kids deserve a safe environment to study and learn. Maybe you’ll decide to take better care of yourself so you can be more ready to learn. And along those lines, I hope you’ll all wash your hands a lot, and stay home from school when you don’t feel well, so we can keep people from getting the flu this fall and winter.

Whatever you resolve to do, I want you to commit to it. I want you to really work at it.

I know that sometimes, you get the sense from TV that you can be rich and successful without any hard work -- that your ticket to success is through rapping or basketball or being a reality TV star, when chances are, you’re not going to be any of those things.

But the truth is, being successful is hard. You won’t love every subject you study. You won’t click with every teacher. Not every homework assignment will seem completely relevant to your life right this minute. And you won’t necessarily succeed at everything the first time you try.

That’s OK. Some of the most successful people in the world are the ones who’ve had the most failures. JK Rowling’s first Harry Potter book was rejected twelve times before it was finally published. Michael Jordan was cut from his high school basketball team, and he lost hundreds of games and missed thousands of shots during his career. But he once said, "I have failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed."

These people succeeded because they understand that you can’t let your failures define you – you have to let them teach you. You have to let them show you what to do differently next time. If you get in trouble, that doesn’t mean you’re a troublemaker, it means you need to try harder to behave. If you get a bad grade, that doesn’t mean you’re stupid, it just means you need to spend more time studying.

No one’s born being good at things, you become good at things through hard work. You’re not a varsity athlete the first time you play a new sport. You don’t hit every note the first time you sing a song. You’ve got to practice. It’s the same with your schoolwork. You might have to do a math problem a few times before you get it right, or read something a few times before you understand it, or do a few drafts of a paper before it’s good enough to hand in.

Don’t be afraid to ask questions. Don’t be afraid to ask for help when you need it. I do that every day. Asking for help isn’t a sign of weakness, it’s a sign of strength. It shows you have the courage to admit when you don’t know something, and to learn something new. So find an adult you trust – a parent, grandparent or teacher; a coach or counselor – and ask them to help you stay on track to meet your goals.

And even when you’re struggling, even when you’re discouraged, and you feel like other people have given up on you – don’t ever give up on yourself. Because when you give up on yourself, you give up on your country.

The story of America isn’t about people who quit when things got tough. It’s about people who kept going, who tried harder, who loved their country too much to do anything less than their best.

It’s the story of students who sat where you sit 250 years ago, and went on to wage a revolution and found this nation. Students who sat where you sit 75 years ago who overcame a Depression and won a world war; who fought for civil rights and put a man on the moon. Students who sat where you sit 20 years ago who founded Google, Twitter and Facebook and changed the way we communicate with each other.

So today, I want to ask you, what’s your contribution going to be? What problems are you going to solve? What discoveries will you make? What will a president who comes here in twenty or fifty or one hundred years say about what all of you did for this country?

Your families, your teachers, and I are doing everything we can to make sure you have the education you need to answer these questions. I’m working hard to fix up your classrooms and get you the books, equipment and computers you need to learn. But you’ve got to do your part too. So I expect you to get serious this year. I expect you to put your best effort into everything you do. I expect great things from each of you. So don’t let us down – don’t let your family or your country or yourself down. Make us all proud. I know you can do it.

Thank you, God bless you, and God bless America.

I'm Dating an S.I. Cover Model!!

Zelda and I are going out tonight to celebrate her photo shoot for Stupendously Insane magazine.

BILL

Oscar Minor Whine

A buddy of mine was working this year’s Oscars and he said they were going to have a brain storming session on how to keep the show from running long and did I have any suggestions. I replied: “Get a 94 year old stroke survivor using a cane to present.” Next thing I know, I’m watching Kirk Douglas!

Dude, I was only joking!

BILL

If I'm Ever Sent to San Quentin...

… I’m going to put on a “Glee” like pageant, the opening number of which will be Charles Manson’s rendition of the Patsy Cline hit “Crazy.”

BILL

Next Stop: Barbeque Potato Chips!!

As there is now a jelly bean flavor of “Buttered Popcorn,” I believe I speak for all Americans when I say: “Gentlemen, you can stop now.”

BILL

ESSAY: Essay For My Therapist

It seemed like such a neat idea at the time but, in the catbird seat of hindsight, I really should have known better.

My son Adam was celebrating turning nine and we had hired for his birthday party what I later learned was a bargain-basement magician to entertain the tots in the backyard. Ed Truby was his name and, per his website, he claimed to be a "Magician Extraordinaire!" His rate was not at all unreasonable so I contacted him via email and we hit upon an agreed upon price for the agreed upon date and time: a Saturday afternoon in lovely Glendale, California.

My wife Marjorie prepared the food - well, catered it really - but who was going to complain? There was plenty of it and, in the end, they were kids, so what do they know? I have yet to meet a nine-year old whose culinary radar is acute enough to respond to food in any way beyond: "This sucks!"

Nonetheless, their bellies full, the twenty-five tykes gathered cross-legged in the lush green grass of our backyard while I stood before a rope-fastened bed sheet curtain and announced: "Ladies and gentlemen, may I present The Great Truby, Magician Extraordinaire!!!"

Out came Ed Truby, bedecked in a flowing silken cape of purple and orange that starkly contrasted his black Velcro-fastened sneakers, all-too-snug jeans and a white T-shirt that, were it moistly adhering to a comely lass, I would have found pleasing to the eye. Sadly, it suffered the indignity of being worn by a man whose looks rivaled the most sordid ne'er-do-well. He stood no more than five and a half feet tall, his shameful rotundness surpassing healthy in every way. Like Danny DeVito with a weight problem. OK, like Danny DeVito. I was altogether certain that, prior to his departure, I would find him stuffing food into every available pocket of his trousers.

The kids were clueless however, eagerly clapping away before the man had so much as pulled a rabbit from his hat.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" he exclaimed, whirling his black wand as if it were a conductor's baton. Behind him stood a four-foot long black box, hoisted upon a pair of sawhorses, its broad side facing the kids.

"For my first trick, I'd like to perform the sawed in half child! What do you say, kids?"

The children cheered and clapped with the same wild abandon with which they had greeted him.

"May I have a volunteer from the audience, please?"

A dozen hands rocketed upward, each accompanied by fervent pleas of "Me! Me! Me!"

"OK. How about you, young chubby?" Truby said, pointing into the audience.

From the mire of his squatted position, Billy Finkelstein lugged himself off the ground, mustard sullying his intelligence-challenged face as he waddled his way up front. I never liked Billy, justifying my loathing on the beatings a similar chubby inflicted upon me in my youth.

"Give him a big fat round of applause, huh, kids?!" Truby yelled with a lurid smile. The kids obeyed, clapping feverishly, excitement lining their innocent faces. I glanced at my son, who had never appeared happier.

"What's your name, sonny?" he asked.

"Billy Finkelstein!" the boy called out. I half-expected a "Sir, yes sir!" to follow.

Truby took fat Billy by the hand. "Now, if you will, Billy, come back here." He opened the rear compartment to the black box, allowing Billy to squeeze his way inside. Truby's hands quickly latched the pear-shaped boy inside, save for his head and feet, which poked out from opposite ends, one untied sneaker lace drooping downward. Billy turned to his audience, an astoundingly stupid grin infesting his doughy face. His feet wiggled every time he smiled. "Are you in there good and tight, Billy?

"Yup.”

"Can't move your arms I hope."

"Not really, no."

"Good. That's what I want to hear." Truby now walked back to a large velvet sack, extracting from it an outright massive saw, its otherwise shiny blade speckled with rust. "Now how many of you want to see Billy sawed in half?"

The kids cheered and clapped wildly.

"OK! That's what I want to hear! Are you ready, Billy?"

"Yup," Billy replied, turning left and grinning to all as if showing off a recently-extracted tooth.

Ed Truby grabbed his saw and placed it above the wooden box, its hoisted blade positioned midway through the belly of little - well, pudgy - Billy Finkelstein. He began sawing, the kids cheering him on. "Saw! Saw! Saw! Saw!" they chanted. Truby worked the blade with near religious fervor, his dark eyes taking on a maniacal gleam. The blade dropped quickly now, having clearly churned its way through the box and now pushing squarely into Billy.

A look of confusion leaped up from the boy's surprised face followed by a sharp “Owww!!!!" and sounding as if he had been bitten by a wasp. Something was wrong, his "Owww!" suddenly escalating to a flurry of blood-curdling screams that coursed across the lawn like a flock of frightened birds. There was a collective confusion not only on the faces of the children but on my face as well, each bearing the dire recognition that something completely unanticipated was occurring before our eyes.

My gaze was riveted upon Truby, who sawed like a man possessed, his massive arm lunging back and forth with demonic urgency, sweat trickling down his already damp face. Suddenly, I found myself tormented by the notion that I was not exactly getting what I had paid for.

Fat Billy, his eyes wide and pleading, was screaming in horror-soaked anguish, his feet wiggling helplessly below. The box shifted somewhat to and fro, prompting Truby to bring a brawny arm firmly down upon it, pinning it in place so as to allow the steady rush of his madly sawing arm.

The children stared in bleak, abject horror, their innocent faces frozen into silent, terrified screams.

Finally, the blade plunged through the bottom of the box. Chubby Billy, silent and unmoving, stared skyward into an infinity not of his own choosing.

Ed Truby tossed away his saw, its blade dripping a steady stream of blood. He brought both hands to opposite ends of the box and pulled each away from the other. Blood cascaded from the severed box as the torn, shredded viscera of little Billy Finkelstein splashed onto the ground in an audible splatter the likes of which I pray I never hear again.

"Ta-dahhhh!" Ed Truby yelled, proudly holding both hands aloft, just before sprinting toward the front yard and the rusty and dented AMC Gremlin in which he had arrived and probably resided.

Billy Finkelstein had damn well been sawed in half, the horror of which would be indelibly etched into the memory of every child who bore witness.

Boy, was my wife pissed.

BILL

Essay For My Therapist

It seemed like such a neat idea at the time but, in the catbird seat of hindsight, I really should have known better.

My son Adam was celebrating turning nine and we had hired for his birthday party what I later learned was a bargain-basement magician to entertain the tots in the backyard. Ed Truby was his name and, per his website, he claimed to be a "Magician Extraordinaire!" His rate was not at all unreasonable so I contacted him via email and we hit upon an agreed upon price for the agreed upon date and time: a Saturday afternoon in lovely Glendale, California.

My wife Marjorie prepared the food - well, catered it really - but who was going to complain? There was plenty of it and, in the end, they were kids, so what do they know? I have yet to meet a nine-year old whose culinary radar is acute enough to respond to food in any way beyond: "This sucks!"

Nonetheless, their bellies full, the twenty-five tykes gathered cross-legged in the lush green grass of our backyard while I stood before a rope-fastened bed sheet curtain and announced: "Ladies and gentlemen, may I present The Great Truby, Magician Extraordinaire!!!"

Out came Ed Truby, bedecked in a flowing silken cape of purple and orange that starkly contrasted his black Velcro-fastened sneakers, all-too-snug jeans and a white T-shirt that, were it moistly adhering to a comely lass, I would have found pleasing to the eye. Sadly, it suffered the indignity of being worn by a man whose looks rivaled the most sordid ne'er-do-well. He stood no more than five and a half feet tall, his shameful rotundness surpassing healthy in every way. Like Danny DeVito with a weight problem. OK, like Danny DeVito. I was altogether certain that, prior to his departure, I would find him stuffing food into every available pocket of his trousers.

The kids were clueless however, eagerly clapping away before the man had so much as pulled a rabbit from his hat.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" he exclaimed, whirling his black wand as if it were a conductor's baton. Behind him stood a four-foot long black box, hoisted upon a pair of sawhorses, its broad side facing the kids.

"For my first trick, I'd like to perform the sawed in half child! What do you say, kids?"

The children cheered and clapped with the same wild abandon with which they had greeted him.

"May I have a volunteer from the audience, please?"

A dozen hands rocketed upward, each accompanied by fervent pleas of "Me! Me! Me!"

"OK. How about you, young chubby?" Truby said, pointing into the audience.

From the mire of his squatted position, Billy Finkelstein lugged himself off the ground, mustard sullying his intelligence-challenged face as he waddled his way up front. I never liked Billy, justifying my loathing on the beatings a similar chubby inflicted upon me in my youth.

"Give him a big fat round of applause, huh, kids?!" Truby yelled with a lurid smile. The kids obeyed, clapping feverishly, excitement lining their innocent faces. I glanced at my son, who had never appeared happier.

"What's your name, sonny?" he asked.

"Billy Finkelstein!" the boy called out. I half-expected a "Sir, yes sir!" to follow.

Truby took fat Billy by the hand. "Now, if you will, Billy, come back here." He opened the rear compartment to the black box, allowing Billy to squeeze his way inside. Truby's hands quickly latched the pear-shaped boy inside, save for his head and feet, which poked out from opposite ends, one untied sneaker lace drooping downward. Billy turned to his audience, an astoundingly stupid grin infesting his doughy face. His feet wiggled every time he smiled. "Are you in there good and tight, Billy?
"Yup.”

"Can't move your arms I hope."

"Not really, no."

"Good. That's what I want to hear." Truby now walked back to a large velvet sack, extracting from it an outright massive saw, its otherwise shiny blade speckled with rust. "Now how many of you want to see Billy sawed in half?"

The kids cheered and clapped wildly.

"OK! That's what I want to hear! Are you ready, Billy?"

"Yup," Billy replied, turning left and grinning to all as if showing off a recently-extracted tooth.

Ed Truby grabbed his saw and placed it above the wooden box, its hoisted blade positioned midway through the belly of little - well, pudgy - Billy Finkelstein. He began sawing, the kids cheering him on. "Saw! Saw! Saw! Saw!" they chanted. Truby worked the blade with near religious fervor, his dark eyes taking on a maniacal gleam. The blade dropped quickly now, having clearly churned its way through the box and now pushing squarely into Billy.

A look of confusion leaped up from the boy's surprised face followed by a sharp “Owww!!!!" and sounding as if he had been bitten by a wasp. Something was wrong, his "Owww!" suddenly escalating to a flurry of blood-curdling screams that coursed across the lawn like a flock of frightened birds. There was a collective confusion not only on the faces of the children but on my face as well, each bearing the dire recognition that something completely unanticipated was occurring before our eyes.

My gaze was riveted upon Truby, who sawed like a man possessed, his massive arm lunging back and forth with demonic urgency, sweat trickling down his already damp face. Suddenly, I found myself tormented by the notion that I was not exactly getting what I had paid for.

Fat Billy, his eyes wide and pleading, was screaming in horror-soaked anguish, his feet wiggling helplessly below. The box shifted somewhat to and fro, prompting Truby to bring a brawny arm firmly down upon it, pinning it in place so as to allow the steady rush of his madly sawing arm.

The children stared in bleak, abject horror, their innocent faces frozen into silent, terrified screams.

Finally, the blade plunged through the bottom of the box. Chubby Billy, silent and unmoving, stared skyward into an infinity not of his own choosing.

Ed Truby tossed away his saw, its blade dripping a steady stream of blood. He brought both hands to opposite ends of the box and pulled each away from the other. Blood cascaded from the severed box as the torn, shredded viscera of little Billy Finkelstein splashed onto the ground in an audible splatter the likes of which I pray I never hear again.

"Ta-dahhhh!" Ed Truby yelled, proudly holding both hands aloft, just before sprinting toward the front yard and the rusty and dented AMC Gremlin in which he had arrived and probably resided.

Billy Finkelstein had damn well been sawed in half, the horror of which would be indelibly etched into the memory of every child who bore witness.

Boy, was my wife pissed.

THE END

Shenanigans With Dirty Harry!!!

Go ahead, make my date look like Halle Berry.

BILL

Severe Outbreak of Mariah Carey Syndrome at Super Bowl

A big shout out to Christina Aguilera for “honoring America” by singing most of our national anthem and for honoring herself with the other song she tacked onto it, spread throughout in little bits and pieces, the collective melody of which I have little doubt she could never recreate.

BILL

Record-Setting Super Bowl Sunday!!!

During his pregame interview, Fox News commentator Bill O’Reilly interrupted the President of The United States I believe a dozen times or more. This surpasses the old mark which was, if I recall, zero.

Congratulations Bill!

BILL

ESSAY: Kanye Dig It? West is Super Bowl MVP!

Super Bowl XLV’s thrilling 17-13 victory by the Pittsburgh Steelers over the Green Bay Packers was marred only by the not completely unexpected appearance of singer Kanye West. The controversial rapper stormed past security and onto the field late in the third quarter, shoving aside Steelers quarterback Ben Roethlisberger just as he was calling signals on a third down and long situation. After knocking the six-foot five inch quarterback to the ground, West reached under center and yelled out the final “Hut!”
Steelers center Doug Legursky, unaware of what was happening behind him, snapped the ball and West drew back into a seven-step drop, completing a slant pattern pass to Hines Ward, the nimble receiver and former Super Bowl MVP dashing past the Packers defensive backfield to put the Steelers ahead. The black and gold never looked back on their way to an unprecedented seventh Super Bowl title.
“I felt I was being disrespected,” West later explained, surrounded by dozens of reporters and cameramen. “I mean they call him ‘Big Ben’, but what’s so big about him? Hell, I can fling it downfield with the best of them.”
Confusion initially reigned as to whether or not the score should count but – like most Americans – the officials were afraid of incurring the singer’s Twitter wrath by ruling against him.
Center Legursky said he had no idea what had occurred until after the fact. “Hey, man, I’m eyes up on a 325-pound nose tackle bent on knocking me on my butt. You think I can hear what’s going on behind me? The dude even sounded like Ben.”
Lining up against Green Bay’s All-Pro defender Charles Woodson, Steelers wide receiver Hines Ward said he didn’t even notice the switch until watching the replay unfold on the football field length video board at Cowboys Stadium. “I was eyeing Charles the whole time at the line of scrimmage while listening to the signals, fought him off, ran my slant, then turned around and BAM!! The ball was in my hands.”
“This is a travesty,” snapped Mike McCarthy, the enraged head coach of the Packers still steaming during the postgame interview, knowing Kanye’s pass had put the Steelers up for good. McCarthy instantly threw his red flag out onto the field, indicating his intention to contest the touchdown, but the score stood in the eyes of the replay official. Upon losing the ruling and – per the rules - what would prove to be a costly timeout, McCarthy sprinted onto the turf in protest, grabbing the referee by the arm but garnering only a penalty for unsportsmanlike contest.
After the game, a beaming Kanye West held the Lombardi trophy aloft, surrounded by cheering Steelers and heckling anyone daring to suggest that the game’s MVP was going anywhere near Disneyland, announcing boldly to Fox TV’s Joe Buck that he would soon be found at Dallas’s Kitty Kat Strip Club.
“I just hope Beyonce was watching,” he added with a smile.

BILL

I Drink to You; I Drink Because of You

I once went to a barroom “happy hour” and, dwelling upon my troubles, soon became morose and sullen. Figuring it was “happy” hour, I asked for my money back and they actually gave it to me! This prompted a huge, happy smile on my face, upon which they snatched the money out of my hand.

BILL

In My Ongoing Effort to Spend Eternity in Hell

The alleged Tucson shooter now claims he shot “Gabby” Giffords simply because she talked too much.

BILL

All I Want Is a Little Consistency

In keeping with the oft-voiced desire that the more moderate voices of Islam denounce extremists in their ranks - a point with which I am in complete agreement - perhaps some similarly-minded Republican will stuff a sock in Congressman Joe Wilson’s mouth prior to tonight’s State of The Union address.

BILL

"Bill, You Are a Man of Sound and Exemplary Judgment"

Not a day goes by at Rodeo Clown School where one of the guys doesn’t tell me this.

BILL

Touche Tucson

Chat and blog all you want about reasons and direct or indirect influences – if any - behind the Tucson shooter. I’m sure we can all agree on this: had we been forced ahead of time to wager the lives of loved ones as to the political stripe of the next recipient of a bullet-inflicted head wound, all of us – without a second’s hesitation - would have shouted: “It’ll be a Democrat!”

BILL

I Can Be So Crass

My ex-wife once asked me if the black pants she was wearing had a “slimming effect.”

“Yes,” I replied, “but so would taking the turkey drumstick out of your hand.”

BILL

I Can Be So Crass

My ex-wife once asked me if the black pants she was wearing had a “slimming effect.”

“Yes,” I replied, “but so would taking the turkey drumstick out of your hand.”

BILL

A Smash Hit for Gwyneth

Nine years into having yet to be defeated by mightier U.S. forces, the Taliban announced today that they will invite actress – and recent country singer – Gwyneth Paltrow to perform live what they claim to be Afghanistan’s new theme song: “Country Strong.”

In the interest of maintaining spiritual purity however, immediately following her performance they will stone her to death.

BILL

I Was Born With a Lazy Eye

In time, doctors say this quality consumed my entire body.

BILL