Ever watched Sports Center and realized that you never got your 15 minutes of fame?  Then this might be the show for you. Here’s my pitch: ESPN starts a televised call-in show for regular folk to complain about sports injuries. It would be like Car Talk but instead of talking about your crap car, you get to talk about your crap knee.

I’d either host it with two witty and obnoxious orthopaedic surgeons . . .

Injured Caller: "My knee makes this funny popping noise every time I run."

Surgeon Host 1: "Can you describe the popping noise, is like a Rice Crispies
in milk, or opening a bottle of Cristal?"

Surgeon Host 2: "I had some Cristal last night, fantastic. I'll have to make
up a few injuries in the office to pay for it, but it's so worth it."

Or for a completely different chemistry, imagine a Western doctor and an Eastern healer . . .

Western Host: "I've got some bad news for you; I think you're suffering from
degenerative joint disease. You see, the largest weight-bearing joints in the
body are prone to ..."

Eastern Host: "Oh, no, no, no ... degenerative joint disease is when you get
skipped over for your turn to toke because your friends are too high to notice.
What you're suffering from is a disruption in your radiant energy-pattern
probably a blockage in your lower meridian"

Next time you’re watching ESPN with ice packs on your knees, who you gonna call?

Posted: November 29th, 2008 under T.V., culture.
Comments: none

I really can’t tell whose rich anymore. The Beverly Hillbillies knew that if you looked poor at least live in a fancy house. But take for example Northern California: everything is expensive but do you really know who has money? That kid on the bike could be a Google heir. About those Yahoo punks over there. San Francisco used to have a lot of blue hair old ladies who walked tiny dogs on Nob Hill, now the telltale signs are gone.

What do you do when you don’t have it in you to look like money? The next best thing is smell like money.

Sure some people like that fresh pine forest smell or the ocean in the distance but there’s a magic odor every time somebody opens up their wallet and the cupboard isn’t bare.

Cash aromatherapy gives your overpriced crappy apartment that fresh from mint Tony Montana cash on the table smell that lets people know you reak of the green stuff and you can still dress like a slob. Now available in pump spray, hanging air freshener (with string) or essential oil.

Posted: September 21st, 2008 under culture, money.
Comments: none