Jim Bob Duggar and his wife Michelle are just good God-fearing people with 19 kids, their own TV show and a lifelong love of guns.

In between reading Bible verses and praying for the souls of heathens, they whip out the guns and play with them. Here's your average Thursday night at the Duggar house:


That's John David Duggar and a foreign exchange student. (Dad is the head in the middle.) Yup, those are assault weapons the kids are holding. Don't worry: they're Christians, though they look about two hand gestures away from being Crips. The family needs that massive firepower for shooting squirrels, Michelle says. I don't know. Maybe squirrels hang around in groups of fifty, and if you don't get them all at once, the survivors will fight back.

On the positive side, I really have to show a little respect. Taking part in a foreign exchange program is really brilliant. Just think: somebody with a second-grade education, who has to scramble for food anywhere he can find it, who's lived his entire life crammed with dozens of people in a few tiny rooms, can hang out with a dude from Bangladesh. That's cool.

Now, back to hunting, guys. Peace out!

Cher is angry that her movie Burlesque didn't get an Academy Award nomination for Best Original Song.

The veteran singer/actress' power ballad "You Haven't Seen the Last of Me" earned songwriter Diane Warren a Golden Globe earlier this month, but the track was ignored by the Oscars.

In a series of fuming Twitter posts, Cher writes, "We didn't get a nomination 4 best song! That sucks! . . . It's hard to understand how u win the Golden Globe 4 Best Song & not even get nominated by the Oscars?"

In a related story, Arkansas housewife Orleen McClurkey was crowned Miss America today after a drunk dude declared her "hot."

Cop Asks Dudes to "Show Me What You've Got," Then Arrests Them For Indecent Exposure

Palm Springs police decoys in the 2009 Warm Sands gay sex sting said they did not entice those arrested to expose themselves, as court hearings on whether to drop the charges continued Tuesday in Indio.

“I pretty much just stood there. People would walk up to us,” Palm Springs officer Chad Nordman testified. He did say “show me what you’ve got” to those arrested — but only after they approached him first, Nordman added.

Even if the decoys were coy, another policeman, Sgt. Matt Beard, testified he simulated a sex act by himself behind a pool filter while providing undercover security for the decoys.

Beard said he wasn’t instructed to do that, but he aimed to mimic “what was going on around me” and “dispel any suspicion that I was an undercover officer.”

Let's set the scene. Hunky Chad Nordman is standing around under the palm trees, enjoying the fresh air. Over by the pool, Officer Beard is watching Hunky Chad to make sure he's okay, while simultaneously pretending somebody's fucking him. Wait, or do you think he's pretending to jerk off? That makes more sense, because it's hard to keep an eye on your partner when you're swaying like a sick camel and your face is aimed at dirt.

It's quiet, because Hunky Chad always waits for dudes to approach him. He's got standards: he doesn't approach dudes, and he doesn't ask dudes to expose themselves if they don't approach him. And he never screams "SHOW ME WHAT YOU GOT!" at cars that are driving by.

Officer Beard wipes the sweat from his forehead and keeps pretending to jerk off. It's tough, because they've been there since two.

Somebody walks up, and Hunky Chad doesn't "entice" the man to expose himself. That would be wrong. No, he just growls, "Show me what you've got."

Hunky Chad holds his breath. Officer Beard switches hands. The man says, "Full house, aces over queens."

"Shit!" says Hunky Chad. He's got a pair of deuces and a four. Dude takes the pot and wanders off. Looks like they're not busting any perps today.

Of course, there's a small hole in this scenario. Officer Beard was "mimic[king] 'what was going on around [him].'" If he's jerking off, doesn't that mean there were other dudes jerking off?

In which case, you know, shouldn't he arrest them?

Still, that's not to say I don't appreciate the effort. I mean, when I'm outside jerking off and a stranger sees me, it can feel a little awkward. I'd really appreciate somebody like Officer Beard pretending to jerk off too, just so I don't feel out of place. It's like the owner of a Greek restaurant smashing a plate to encourage you to do it. Well, and then arresting you for vandalism afterward.

Anyway, I've got to applaud these guys. They do what they have to. Hell, how else can somebody “dispel any suspicion that [they're] an undercover officer" without, like, pretending to read? While Hunky Chad's day couldn't have been easy -- I've been attractive before -- I'm thinking the police department should give Beard some kind of trophy.

Though maybe they'll want to set it on the table until he can wash his hands.

A married father of two has left his family at home for a dream vacation around the world with his sex dolls.

Dave Hockey, 57, admits to having fourteen sex dolls, which cost up to $3,000 apiece, and says he's spent another couple thousand to dress them in glamorous outfits, wigs, and high heels. For his vacation this year, he's blowing $25,000 to take his six favorite dolls to Britain and America, stopping in Stonehenge, the Grand Canyon and Niagara Falls, and taking the molded mistresses sky-diving, horseback riding and on motorcycle rides.

Dave insists his wife "doesn't mind." "My wife understands it is a hobby. She isn't threatened by the dolls. She knows I'm not going to run off with an eighty-pound piece of silicone shaped like a woman."

Eighty pounds of silicone? What, does it only have one boob?

Hey, let's hear a round of applause for Dave. What a catch! He didn't skip out on his wife in the middle of the night. No, he walked out in broad daylight, after packing suitcases full of lingerie and stilettos for Samantha, Carley, Miyuki, Bianca, Janelle and Nita. And then he called the press and told them what he was doing, and claimed his wife was totally cool with it. That's nerve. Personal note to Ms. Hockey: it's not gonna cost $3,000 to replace dumb, bald or paunch.

Anyway, if you want to meet Dave, keep an eye out for a motorcycle with one happy rider and six blank stares. Listen for the throaty putt-putt as he approaches your town.

No, it's not the bike: he always forgets to wash out Bianca.

Why Clarence Thomas Didn't Declare His Wife's Income on Financial Disclosure Documents

For the last thirteen years, Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas has certified and filed official financial disclosure forms that declared that his wife Virginia had no outside income. Over that period, however, his wife worked as a consultant for several conservative organizations, including the Heritage Foundation, a far-right think tank that deals with many of the issues that face the Supreme Court, earning in excess of $690,000.

Reasons Why Clarence Thomas Didn't Think He Had to Declare His Wife's Income:

1. He's an originalist, so he only fills out forms correctly when they begin with "Prithee."
   
   
2. Sure, his wife is a working lawyer, but he thought chicks could only make serious money if they knew how to dance.
   
   
3. He thought "women's work" was an oxymoron, like "jumbo shrimp" or "affirmative action."
   
   
4. He thought he'd put a check mark in the box, but it turned out to be a pubic hair.
   
   
5. He could have sworn the dude they picked for president repealed all that "ethics" shit.
   

Unhealthy Lifestyle? Helen Mirren: I'm Going to Eat Russell Brand's Underwear.

Terri Orbuch, author of 5 Simple Steps to Take Your Marriage From Good to Great, on how to have healthy disagreements in USA Weekend magazine:

Start with "I." Say things like, "I become anxious when you leave the stove on."

This is an important lesson. See, when you accuse people of things, they become defensive. If you say, "You have to stop guzzling Jägermeister and aiming the car at old ladies in crosswalks!" they'll say, "Hey, why don't you try and make me?" Rather than solving problems, it escalates them into fistfights.

Besides, can you ever really be sure that the other party stands alone in guilt? Frequently there are gray areas. If you say, "Stop dangling our baby out the hotel window," they might just snap back with something like, "Oh, yeah -- like you never dangled the baby out a hotel window!" Resolving the problem is forgotten in favor of a dispute about who did what.

So, when you encounter questionable behavior, take pains not to be accusatory. Don't point a finger with the word "you." Say instead, "I become anxious when your crack pipe sends flames racing up the curtains and all my belongings start to melt." With the pressure off, your partner will respond with something like, "Well, let's take you to the doctor and get tranquilizers," and then everybody goes to bed happy.

Uh-oh. Fingers crossed DJ Questionable Deductions will be okay.

Though one may not understand the goals of others, a true friend supports them nonetheless. Our job is not to label a roommate's search for a Japanese girlfriend as racist or sexist; no, it's our job to pat him on the back as he heads out the door and say, "Good luck finding Hachiko."

In Richmond, Virginia, historical preservationists and residents are trying to stop a Walmart from being built atop a Civil War battlefield. General Ulysses S. Grant camped on the proposed site, and Union casualties were treated in what will be the parking lot.

Me, I think we should show some respect for the brave men and women who fought and shed their blood when it wasn't Black Friday.

When Heterosexuals Write

From a Condé Nast Traveler article describing the manly sports available at Drumlanrig Castle in Scotland:

[Y]ou can learn the etiquette of the grouse hunt, or go out with a gamekeeper with fly and rod and shotgun and make your own way around the estate. You can bring your dog and have him trained. . . . You can fly in in your own plane and land on the main drive, amid the sheep, as one party of guns did in a Cessna -- though while taking off, they hit a bump and ended up upside down in the [river]. All of them died. "Sad," says [a gamekeeper] simply.

Behold, Esau my brother is a hairy man, and I am a smooth man.

Dear God,

Now tell us about their feet.

Your humble servant,
RomanHans

The hole left by your stupidity will not be filled by my sympathy.

Disgruntled Republicans announced today that the president has apparently outsourced his hair formula to Greece.

Kraft Food has invented a vending machine that analyzes your face to guess what you want to eat.

While you operate the touchscreen on Kraft's "Meal Planning Solution," a camera tries to determine your age and gender to anticipate what you'd like.

The machine recommended mac & cheese for Donald Trump and Alpo for the thing on his head.

While watching a documentary about Boy George, a Greek Orthodox bishop recognized one of the singer's paintings as one that had disappeared from the Orthodox Church of Cyprus during the 1974 Turkish invasion. The church contacted George, who dutifully returned the 300-year-old "Icon of Christ" that he'd bought from a gallery some twenty-five years ago.

Unfortunately, there wasn't such a happy ending when the bishop accused Snookie of stealing his ouzo.

Taco Bell has pulled its commercials from MTV's hit teen drama "Skins," after the airing of its controversial debut.

Noting the plethora of underage sex on the show, a Taco Bell spokesman said, “[T]he show is not a fit for our brand and [we] have moved our advertising to other MTV programming.”

By withdrawing their support, Taco Bell says they hope to get teens out of the bedroom and back in the bathroom where they belong.

My email is back! See you tomorrow.

Had the Verizon Fios guy over for the last six hours. Useless. This is supposed to be better than Time Warner? The guy couldn't get the software installed on my computer. It's a Mac, so I guess it's a tradeoff. Be really cool, or successfully send and retrieve email. He gave me a phone number to call and then left.

Naturally he left out the part about waiting 57 minutes to get connected to a human being.

And naturally, it's got one of those ultra-annoying hold voices that tries everything short of setting fire to your house to get you to hang up. "We are currently experiencing high call volumes. Do you really want to run down the battery of your cellphone? Press 726 to continue holding, or anything else to hang up."

726. 726. 726. You press the buttons. The music has just about lulled you to sleep when the voice comes on again.

"Really, your problem is easily fixed by going to verizon.com/troubleshoot. If you keep hanging on, our operator is going to think you're stupid. Press 263 if you want the operator to snicker at you, anything else to hang up."

You fall for it. You go to Verizon.com and, after navigating fourteen screens, find one of your questions:

Q: "How do I set up additional email addresses on this account?"
A: "Yes, you can set up additional email addresses on this account!"

Was this information helpful? YES NO

So, you call back. "Don't you find waiting humiliating?" the recording asks. "Press fifteen keys in six seconds or we'll hang up on you." Ten minutes later: "Is the wombat a marsupial? Hang up if yes."

In my musically-induced stupor, I nearly fall for it.

Finally, I get a person. I can't send or receive email, and all my old email has disappeared. He knows nothing. "It's not us," he says. "Our stuff is cool. Maybe call some kinda Mac dude."

I turn on the TV and try to console myself. There are 320 channels. 319 of them are basketball.

The service guy calls back. He left his wire splitters here. He comes back and gets them. Sigh. Why, I remember when American Idol was fun, a scoop of ice cream was four bucks, and servicemen used to forget stuff so they could come back later and ask you questions like, "Hey, buddy, every done it with a guy in a jumpsuit?"

"Yes," I'd answer as we watched Kareem dash across the court. "Yes, I have."

Was this information helpful? YES NO

EXCLUSIVE!!!

I guess I shouldn't be surprised, but there's a massive news story that the mainstream media is totally ignoring. Wonder why President Obama's speech at the Tucson memorial received so much applause? Sure, it was okay. It was interesting. But was it really as good as all that?

No, it wasn't. In fact, the audience applauded because our choice was either clap or die.

See, I was there, so what I say is indisputable fact. I was too far away from Obama to see him, so like most people I watched him on the Jumbotron. And there at the bottom, mixed in with the captions for the hearing impaired, were commands that we all had to follow!

Every minute or two another order would pop up, typed in by some anonymous flunkee fascist. Sometimes he'd write "[Applause]," and sometimes he'd write "[Laughter]." Naturally we all had to comply, because these orders came straight from the Socialist in Chief. Don't feel like laughing? I bet Anne Boleyn didn't either!

I expected something like this -- in fact, that's why I went -- but this level of arrogance shocked me. I thought we still had a few weeks of democracy left!

Roman, some of you are thinking, you clearly had a choice. In fact, my brother-in-law saw my hands shaking, and suggested that maybe these bracketed words were documenting what was happening rather than telling us what to do. But, I ask, how were we to know? We were terror victims ourselves! In fact, I was so traumatized by the end that when the caption read "[Music]" I scarcely had the wits to comply.

Thank God I'd brought my ocarina along or I probably wouldn't be here today. And my brother-in-law, the guy who blithely told me to shut the hell up? I'm sure it'll come as no surprise to say I haven't seen him since.

C'mon, David. You must have known we'd look at you. Sure, after Elton's eyebrows and Elton's clothes and the baby's face and Elton's hair and Elton's teeth and the baby's clothes and the furniture and the view and the headlines, but eventually.

Flushtracker is not #1 or #2 in my list of favorite websites. It was created as part of the educational outreach program for National Toilet Day to shed some light on the underground world of waste.

The concept is simple enough: you type in your address -- currently only UK, Italy and Poland -- and tell them the last time you flushed the toilet. They pull up an aerial view of your neighborhood and, in real time, let you watch as a flashing blue dot shows your detritus weaving its way toward the sea.

But see, I miss the "educational" part of this. Why, exactly, do we need to know what poo does after it leaves the house? Do some folks think theirs is going to drop by the Playboy Mansion and circle a hot tub or two? Do we really need to know the path it takes? Do people watch the thin blue line twist and swerve and say, "Shit, I thought it was gonna make a left"? It's like one little brown Hyundai on a slow-speed chase.

Then there's the box on the left of the screen, like a dashboard for your poo car. How far has it gone? It tells you. How fast is it moving? It tells you. Again, not so educational. Your grandma could beat hers in a race, though frankly I'd watch the Simpsons first.

So, add this website to the list of massive wastes of time. It's like TV commercials for the post office. Like people will see them and go, "Wow, now that I think about it, I should mail more stuff!" Personally, I'm not going to spend the morning with my legs crossed because I know my poo would have to go through New Jersey.

In the end, it was fun for two or three minutes. I discovered that Queen Elizabeth's waste isn't even remotely exciting to watch. Somehow I figured it'd give a little wave.

As for the Pope's, well, it barely covered any distance. In fact, it's almost like it was swept under a rug.

We go to great lengths commemorating soldiers who have died fighting wars for their countries. Why not do the same for the naturalists who still sometimes give up everything in the effort to understand life?

Why not indeed? Because, really, is there a difference between the men who stormed the beach at Normandy and dudes who go to Peru looking for cool birds?

I mean, okay, blackbilled sapsuckers don't usually chase after you with bazookas. Cuplet ferns are utterly useless at planting land mines. And maybe scarlet tanagers won't invade Poland, but is that any consolation to a dude who finds himself underneath one in his best tweed coat?

Ronald Reagan's son claims in a new book that his father showed signs of dementia while he was president.
Ron Reagan says his father would probably have resigned the presidency if he'd been diagnosed.

Evidence? Well, apparently the first time the president said, "Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!" he was trying to help a mime.

Steven Paul Archer of Chuckey, Tennessee, was arrested after allegedly breaking into an empty store and then tunneling into the GameStop next door.

Once inside the videogame retailer, Archer supposedly pocketed cash and electronics, but he ran into problems when he tried to inflate investigating policemen until they popped.

A Duane Reade drugstore opening in Brooklyn will offer both a pharmacy and a bar.

Local residents agree that it'll be convenient. If you'd like a Blazing Saddle, you head over to the bar. And if you've already got one, you go to the pharmacy.

God, are even tattooists charging extra for a waffle cone?

Well, you try to pirouette in size 13 shoes.

A couple of months ago Crystal Lake's Prairie Ridge High School Health teacher Jacqulyn Levin decided that the best way to teach her students the parts of the female reproductive anatomy was to use something she called the "Vagina Dance." Levin led her class in a dance that involved pointing to and singing about reproductive body parts while prancing about the classroom.

Sigh. Looks like another year of zero royalties for "Yes Sir, That's My Vulva."

TV Tonight

Beyond Scared Straight (10 p.m., A&E) -- Series premiere: At-risk teens visit prison inmates and teach viewers an important lesson.

Ain't no TV show called Doing My Homework and Cleaning My Room.

Ordinarily I'd protest, but when these guys say they're not gay, everybody wins.

In the wake of her "blood libel" scandal, Sarah Palin denied today that every word out of her mouth is a reference to either guns or murder. "Some people are just dying to get their snub-noses out of joint," she declared before shooting off to a Target store.

Tom Hanks' son Chet is "an up and coming MC" who records under the alias Chet Haze. He's also a frat boy at Northwestern University. Curious about his street cred? Well, he was "[b]orn and raised on the West Side of the Westside's main city LA."

Okay, so maybe that's Brentwood.

His bio also says, "Living the college life, Chet's days consist of chilling with his boys, attending class, and taking care of business. However, his nights consist of absolutely murdering tracks, and living what he is really spitting." After "hittin' blunts," DJ Haze gets busy:

I got a call from the brothers in the frat house
I'm with my girl, tryin to get up under that blouse
She a freshman, she a freak though
In the bed, but a lady in the street, yo.

She say, "You borrow these wheels?"
I say, "I ain't no mooch.
I bought this Camry with the cash
Dad made from Turner and Hooch."

Man, I am totally down with DJ Haze. But now I gotta split: I got ninety-nine problems and my philosophy homework is #1.

TRUE! According to TMZ, Charlie Sheen spent Sunday night "partying" with Nazi-tattooed homewrecker Michelle "Bombshell" McGee.

FALSE! It's absolutely not true that on Monday morning he demanded that CBS rename his hit sitcom, "Two and a Half Mengele."

Billboards trying to drum up community support for gay black men have prompted demands to have them taken down.

The Rev. Alfred Thompkins of Calvary Tabernacle said the “I am gay” billboard message only encourages troubled youth to embrace homosexuality.

“A thirteen-year-old looks at these billboards and says, ‘That must be it, I must be gay,’ ” he said.

And then "I Am The Walrus" comes on the radio and the kid wants to go live in your pool.

One of Conrad Murray's longtime patients is "pissed" with Judge Michael Pastor's decision to yank the Doc's medical license, saying it's "preventing a phenomenal doctor from working."

Robert Day says the judge made a "100% poor choice" because Murray "just wanted to help MJ." "[Murray] is the most compassionate, reserved gentle giant you'll ever meet."

A "gentle giant"? Really? I thought they were just a myth! I always assumed all oversized people were going to rip off all my limbs and then shuffle outside in their giant orthopedic shoes and toss my torso onto a bonfire while muttering "ME ANGRY NOW!" Color me surprised! Well, I guess there had to be one of them somewhere in the universe. Put this guy in the Anachronism Museum next to the honest gypsy and sarcastic American Indian.

On Glenn Beck's website are the words, "We must stand together against all violence," next to a picture of him holding a gun.

Yeah, it's a little weird, but I'm not going to say anything. I'm just glad he didn't come out against sex.

Now that McDonalds sells cappuccino, Dunkin' Donuts has "Bagel Twists," and Domino's Pizza offers cake, the Chicago Tribune has published a heated op-ed piece declaring that "Fast-food outlets should stick to their strengths."

Making our butts putter like motorboats.

Cindy Jacobs, a right-wing activist at Generals International, claims the recent spate of animal deaths was caused by the repeal of Don't Ask, Don't Tell.

"[B]ecause we have said it’s okay for people who commit these kinds of acts to be recognized in our military," she announced, "a hundred thousand drum fish died and . . . birds just fell out of the air."

Yeah. God's showing his anger at homosexuals by killing birds and fish. Right now He's in heaven going, "What, do you think I don't know slang?"

Roger Ailes, president of Fox News, blamed the inflammatory political climate on both parties, and said everyone needs to turn it down.

“Both sides are wrong, but they both do it," he declared. “I told all of our guys, shut up, tone it down, make your argument intellectually. You don’t have to do it with bombast. I hope the other side does that.”

Oh, puh-leeze. The last time Rachel Maddow told anybody to "reload" was when the Whole Foods bathroom ran out of wet wipes.

Dear Sarah Palin,

How's that cross-hairy, shooty thing working out for ya?

Curious,
RomanHans

Dreams are meaningless. Dreams are stupid. Dreams are the mental masturbation of a bored mind. You wouldn't try to analyze your feelings based on what square you landed on in Monopoly, and you shouldn't try to analyze your feelings from the crazy pictures your brain draws up.

Raoul, however, believes the opposite. Dreams mean something. Dreams illuminate the hidden meaning of past behavior, or predict the times ahead. When he woke up and said, "I can't believe what you did to my sqouse," I knew it was trouble.

"It was half squirrel and half mouse," he continued, as if details might provoke interest in me. I don't know why. I don't ask him to read Harry Potter books to me, and they have occasional nudity. "He could talk, but all he could say was, 'Hello!' in a really high voice, and finally you got tired of it. You put him in a bag and left him outside a Dominos Pizza." He paused for dramatic effect. "I want my squose back."

I was almost involved, for a split second, but the feeling quickly passed. Instead I just stared at him. I considered saying, "Does baby want his binky, too?" but that's never helped in the past. I let his blathering slide right off, but he bore a grudge that lasted hours.

Eventually he returned to reality, but of course it happened again. His puffy eyes were barely open before the chastising began. "You got rid of my gazowl!" he declared. "He could run really fast, and spin his head all the way around. One day you got completely sick of him, and you tied him to a big yellow balloon and he floated off into space."

I'm not totally insensitive to other peoples' feelings, so this time I tried to protest. "It was just a dream," I replied. "Gazowls" -- gazelles crossed with owls, I guessed -- "don't exist. And I would never tie an animal to a balloon when lovely rattan baskets are sooo cheap." Still, he wouldn't have it. For the next few days he was mad.

This time I fumed too. Really, it's hard enough to be responsible for my actions in real life; now I have to answer to my fictional behavior too?

So, the next time around I was ready. The second he opened his eyes and pointed them accusingly in my direction, I jumped. "YOU KILLED MY OTTERTLE!" I screamed, and he didn't share his dreams again for weeks.

Tuesday night TV's highest ratings were set by the premiere of Live to Dance, a new reality competition starring Paula Abdul.

Audiences tuned in en masse to see the Funky Chicken, and they stayed for the dancing as well.

An old-time radio announcer who spent much of the last twenty years abusing drugs and begging is the toast of the town today.

"Am I?" asked Rush Limbaugh before falling out of his chair again.

The GLBT History Museum has opened in San Francisco's Castro district. The museum offers a plethora of material celebrating queer culture and recounting the diverse and fascinating stories of our lives.

I don't mean to brag, but I was pretty popular when I was younger. I'll give you fifty-fifty odds there's a picture of me in the Chicken Wing.

On Friday's Ellen DeGeneres Show, Real Housewives of Beverly Hills star Camille Grammer tells how she first learned of her husband Kelsey's infidelities.

"A mutual friend called me and said, 'I don't like what he's doing to you and I don't like the timing because you're still in the middle of shooting a reality show,'" Camille recalls.

Really, Camille? Somebody thought the timing was bad? That if you knew Kelsey was cheating on you, it'd be hard for you to call another chick a whore? A "friend" thought that a man should make an extra effort to remain faithful when his wife has to fling Cosmos at other bitches at work? That a man's infidelity might shatter the zen bliss of a "Real Housewives" episode?

I say thank God this news didn't undermine your reality career, and somehow you found the inner strength to keep screaming at sluts. Because, as we're all well aware, that's just the kind of woman you are.

If you thought your iPhone could do anything, you're right. A new app called iGrill will even cook your dinner.

iGrill has a Bluetooth-enabled thermometer that tracks the temperature of your food, and it lets you know via cellphone when your dinner is done.

I know it sounds like a good idea, but I can't recommend it. I used it when I had a barbecue. I announced to everybody that I'd gotten a text message saying my meat was hot and juicy, and it turned out it wasn't from the grill at all.

Snowing again. It's beautiful. We've only gotten a couple inches, though, so the Sanitation Department employees are just doing shots in the back seats of their cars.

Donald J. Tyson, founder of the Tyson chicken empire, has died at the age of 80.

Instead of embalming him, they just stuffed his giblets in a bag.

In a study on crying published by the journal Science, researchers found that sniffing women’s tears made men sexually aroused.

Thus, one last pillar to the Gates of the Apocalypse: Charlie Sheen knows what he's doing after all.

The researchers were going to test men's tears too, but their male crier just got a new job.

A prominent podiatrist said yesterday that popular Uggs shoes encourage the growth of a foot fungus that spreads under your toenails and is extremely difficult to cure.

This doesn't bode well for my new Oh Barfs.

Mila Kunis:

I've often been told I'm a gay man in a woman's body.

Well, okay. Now explain all the farting.