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Originally overshooting the target at SomaCow.com

In this hour the guys discuss:

Time Change
Our Forums
Social Media Cursing
Two Pilots Overshoot Target
Sirius
HD Radio
Classic Rock
Pandora
MySpace
Parody Songs/Movies
Hope to see you all Friday night for the live show!

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Originally scrubbed at SomoaCow.com:

It is halloween.

We are of celebrating.

Here are ross’s notes:

Punkins
Mister 32 Call In Re Punkin Spice Latte
Domo- Kitten Killer
7 11 Latte burns Mickey’s bowels
7 11 going downhill
Cashews is hard
Chinese pwn
Toastmasters
Toast
Sliders TV Show
America, Fuck Yeah
Words for A- Referencing a movie to prove something IRL
B- A Male Cougar

I have been up for 30 hours.  Please god, Enjoy the show.

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I am a dad, and pretty busy, but after reading the snark-dumb of the recent Frisky article “22 Things Women Can Teach Their Sons About Women and Relationships“,  (is it 22 things per the title? 15 per the link title? 18 per the CNN title? Come on ladies make up your mind!) I feel I would be remiss if I did not respond in kind. I know an awful lot about men and how to avoid irritating them, so I plan to pass that knowledge down to women in hopes that it will stem the flow, so to speak, of antagonistic gender bullying.

I hope to rid the female sex of all the things that make us rant by raising women with balanced male and female perspectives. Here are the 22 things I’d teach them.

1. Stop fucking with your hair so much. It’s weird. Get a simple cut, one that you can maintain. No woman should be spending over 100 dollars a month on hair care, nor should it take more than 5 minutes to go from “showered” to “ready”.

2. If you want a guy to go down, make sure you have a clean plate, and keep the parsley to a minimum

3. Pick up your feet when you walk, especially if you are the kind of slattern who insists on wearing flip flops every day.

4. If someone tells you that you are being “crazy”, you should evaluate your behavior. It isn’t an idle statement, it’s a subjective opinion that your behavior and thinking are not sane or rational.

5. Cooking, cleaning, and taking care of children are tasks related to establishing a home. A woman can be  proud of these things.Young women should be taught to prepare food. Far too many women today are fucking clueless in the kitchen. It isn’t a prison, it’s a life-skill. Know it, and be ashamed of yourself until you do.

6. Stop looking to the eating of food as the solution to your problems. Chocolate is a fattening treat, not a therapy device.

7. Don’t ask your man to do things he does not want to do simply because you want to see if he will. It’s insulting, and he will hate you for it.

8. Gifts are another way of buying you. If you are for sale, then whore up, whore.

9. A woman who earns more than a man is a novelty. Spend less time wondering how it impacts men and more time using your position to set right the imbalances in the sexes with regard to your immediate workplace.

10. Men have nuts. Nuts itch. Welcome to the world.

11. Be on time. Seriously. It’s fucking rude to show up late.

12. Don’t spend more time shopping than you do volunteering. Life is more than pants.

13. If he does not make you happy in bed, it’s because you aren’t telling him what you need done.

14. Stop having so many favorites. A daisy, a tulip, a rose, a buttercup – all have merit, all matter, and all are indicative of the fact that the guy actually thought about you. Take the fucking thing, and smooch him. Be happy someone cares whether or not you are alive.

15. Get the fuck over your shoes.

16. If he does not listen to you, your rhetoric is shamefully dull. Think more, speak less.

17. Sharts happen.

18. Your emotions should be natural. If you are crying to get optimal action from someone else, you are scum.

19. Just because you are fat does not mean you have a great personality. Odds are, you are fat AND narcissitic, fat AND
underread, fat AND suffering from Halitosis. Work it out.

20. Avoid his family, odds are they are assholes.

21. Never say that someone will never understand you. You are not a riddle, a puzzle, or an enigma. You are flesh, sweat, and jokes. If you cannot fuck, function, or be fun, STFU and work on it.

22. Tell your mother to mind her own goddamned business, or he will hate you for it.

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Can you feel the excitement building, and the wafting odor of chum and rotting fish?

No, it’s not the “Oprah” studio audience. It’s Shark Week!

For those guys who are so unbelievably effeminate that you don’t know what Shark Week is, stop reading my blog, set down your white zinfandel, and go
look up the lyrics to some Enya songs. Fairies.

For those of you who are female, I will explain what Shark Week is, and what it means to a man.

Every summer, the Discovery Channel takes a break from its inane programming of giving trivia quizzes in a taxicab to people who were too stupid to hire
a limo, busting the myth that holding an Alka-Seltzer in your mouth while administering oral sex will make your partner squeal with anything other than
revulsion and pity-laughter, and trying their best to make grimy, illiterate fishermen seem like they are doing something adventurous with their lives
(when, in fact, we all suspect that after being out chasing their deadliest catch for about two weeks with no women, they probably start trying the
Alka-Seltzer thing on each other), and dishes up an actual MANLY series of programs that actual MEN are interested in: the fury of nature’s perfect
predator, the shark, with semi-pornographic voice-overs by Sigourney Weaver.

Why do men love sharks? Because we envy them. They eat the way we wish we could eat. They mate the way we wish we could mate. Then there is the
tiny, rudimentary, prehistoric brain. The sharks wish they had one. Like mine. Sharks are the briny equivalent of ninjas, and you KNOW how men love
ninjas. If you happen to walk into the room while the man in your life is watching Shark Week, and he is grimacing, it isn’t because he is disgusted by
what YOU perceive as a repulsive, gory, frenzy of destruction. It’s because he is practicing making a shark face to use with you later in the bedroom.

Granted, most of the videos shown during Shark Week were shot in the late 1980s and feature men with tufts of gray chest hair that are so long they stick
up out of their wetsuits against their throats, like geriatric chinterbush, but we tolerate that in order to see the sharks, man, the SHARKS!

To guys, sharks represent freedom and rebellion. Sometimes, in a fit of shark-like frustration and rage, I will gnash my teeth, thrash my head wildly from
side to side and make a noise that I think sounds like a shark*. This rarely makes the waitress bring my petite bruschetta appetizer any faster, but it does
usually make my wife agree for us to leave the antique shop/jewelry store/nail salon sooner.

Since women are not so much into sharks, they really don’t understand them. Here are some shark facts to bring you ladies up to speed:

Other fearsome creatures that a shark would beat in a fight:
Bull rhino
Bengal tiger
Ryan Seacrest

Things that a shark would say at a cocktail party:
“wrorrrrragh!”
“blubglupbuhlup”
“Does this Ryan Seacrest taste funny to you?”

Things you could make out of a shark’s extremely rough skin, if you could kill one:
Scary wallet
Ferocious underpants
Truly unpleasant condoms

So, let your man revel during this year’s Shark Week. Let him dream. Let him indulge his inner shark.

Just don’t let him near you with an Alka-Seltzer.

*According to women, it actually sounds like I am choking on bad clams.

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Originally Deeheed, shaMONed, and Dwongirled at SomaCow.com

In this hour, we recant the Hollywood deaths of the dude with the glove, the dude with the jowls, and the chick with the boobs.

So much to cover, I do not know where to begin. Farrah Fawcett’s Tushie Tumor gave way to Ed McMahon’s Extremely Elderly End gave way to Michael Jackson’s Mysterious Myocardial Infarction, and now this…

Little Bunny Billy, flying on an airline, eating peanuts in first class, and stuff fell on his head?

I do not want to live in a world without Billy. We will all feel for his loss. Billy Mays did more for the world than 10 Michael Jackson’s ever could, and don’t you forget it.

I blame Vince, and his accursed shamwows. He’s had it in for Billy since the first Zorbeez ad aired. The advertising world IS the most dangerous game, people.

Take heart… It is Mickey’s Birthday, and it is a pretty solid hour even in his absence. Thank you to everyone who called in to wish Mickey a Merry Mickmas. Elross will handle doling out your points.

Happy Birthday, Mickey!

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Marriage is an institution within which a man can aspire to become better than he already is, through the guidance of a woman leading him on the road to enlightenment.

(Just kiddin’, guys, I only put that up there because I figured your wives were reading over your shoulders right now. At this point, though, I think it’s safe to assume that she is off attending to some important cleaning behind the refrigerator, or ordering ridiculously expensive “window treatments” (what you and I call “bed sheets”), so we can now talk openly.)

Don’t get me wrong, I love women, but there is a sure-fire indicator that a wife has driven her husband totally nuts: he starts sentences by saying “Don’t get me wrong, I love women, but…”

As far as I can tell, there are only two problems with marriage:

1. There are too many women involved.
2. Those women are reluctant to wear the sexy Little Bo Peep costume that you rented from “Whores D’Oeuvres”.

Mickey seems to have a big problem with the fact that wives can become ex-wives, at which point it costs you half of your hard-earned money. But when you consider that women make up over half of the work force, half of every penny that you currently earn and spend goes straight to them anyway. The women then spend that money on purchases from diet and fitness infomercials featuring Suzanne Somers. The difference appears to be that when you hand your money to a cashier (or waitress, or stripper), you get satisfying goods and/or services in return; whereas, when you hand your money to your ex-wife, you get stories about how her new boyfriend Todd managed to convince her finally to try anal sex, and now she can’t get enough of it.

As far as grounds for divorce goes, Florida appropriately treats it like car insurance: we’re a no-fault state. We should thank God for this, guys, because, in other states, your wife can divorce you for using the ice dispenser while Grey’s Anatomy is on, or for not refilling the potpourri containers in a timely manner. In those states, YOU, an innocent bystander in your marriage, can have the blame placed squarely on your shoulders for not seeing mediocre, quarterly sex as sufficient motive to get out of bed at 3am to check the house, because your wife dreamed that lawn maintenance workers had invaded the living room and were putting their muddy feet up on the chaise lounge while smoking cigars with no ashtrays.

Mickey’s vision also contains a crapload of paperwork. I hate paperwork more than you will someday hate Todd.
I went paperless in 1998 and, apart from some bathroom scenarios that I’m still working on, it has been smooth sailing ever since.
My solution is simple: don’t get married by a minister with a bible, get married by a judge with a video camera. This way, if there is ever any question about what the expectations were going in, you can just call up the judge and say “Your Honor, did she or did she not agree that it is perfectly allowable for me to throw my boxer-briefs NEAR the hamper, not necessarily IN the hamper?”
Case closed.

My best advice to you guys is to wait before getting married. This means two things: you should wait until later in life, when your schedule is not so much driven by which Playstation games were released that week; and that ,you should wait until later in your relationship with a woman before deciding to get married. Remember, every day that you are with her and DON’T get married is another day that you have at least a CHANCE of saying or doing something right for once; a day that you have at least a CHANCE to convince her that a threesome with the hot, busty receptionist at her office would really be a treat for HER; a day that you have at least a CHANCE of discovering a reason that you two should go ahead and break up now, while it’s still free.

I’m going to let you guys figure out the rest on your own. I’ll be over here hacking Todd’s Facebook to make fictitious posts saying how much he likes little boys. And lawn maintenance workers.

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The government should not be involved in your personal life.  Period.  Marriage should not even be a religious thing.  In early Christianity, marriage was not a church thing.  It was a personal moment.  No ceremony.  Just you talking to the one you wanted to marry and say, “I marry you.”

DONE.

Then along came lawyers.  They needed a place to register who was married to whom.  The only folks that could write were in the Church, so, the Church was the record holder.

It wasn’t until the 1500’s that marriage and church/state became tied hand in hand.  The Roman Catholic Church and the Pope slapped a definition and law onto marriage.  A Catholic marriage had to be done by a “qualified” person with two qualified witnesses.  If those people were not at the wedding, the marriage didn’t count.

On the other side of the coin, the Protestants started giving the state the same official place as the priests.  So a protestant marriage was sanctioned by the state.  It was John Calvin and the Protestants that required both the Church and the State to recognize the marriage.

All of the bullshit about marriage as an institution is re-donky-less.

The idea, or the Raging Christians’ idea of what marriage is, is less than 400 years old.

Yes, people should be able to get married.  The same way they did it in the long, long ago.

If they feel compelled, go to the Church and get the blessing.  As for the state, file paperwork.  A will, a power of attorney, and a statement of shared household assets.

The tax laws could be adjusted to include “house hold” instead of dealing with spousal issues.

The divorce laws have brought things to such a level that none of the real shit matters.  “He cheated”… so fucking what, in the state of Florida, it is not grounds for divorce.  “He abused me”… those are not grounds for divorce in Florida.  “We just don’t get along”… BINGO, we have grounds for a divorce.

Under the Mickey Marriage Act of 2010, churches are still free to impose their will on their congregation.  Don’t like the church’s rules, leave the church.  But each church can define what “marriage” is in their church for their flock.

Any two people can get married.  All they do is look at each other and say, “I marry you”.  Done!  You are married.  But in the Mickey Marriage Act of 2010, marriage would be as meaningless as it is today.  We would just remove the legal ramifications of not being able to put up with someone’s shit any more.

Also under the MMA2kX, we would have the Household Alignment Amendment.  This would be a packet of paperwork that two or more people can enter to give each other right regarding personal issues.  This is open to roommates, bff’s, heteros, homos, … no dogs, no cats, and don’t even ask about the pony.

The PoP would contain a will for each person.  The will of each person would state emphatically how their assets will be divided.  The PoP Will must state the person’s wishes about life support and Resuscitation.

The PoP will include a tax form for Household Alignment.  The HA-Tax form will designate one person as the Head of the Household and allow all the parties in the Household to file a single tax return.

The PoP will include a MMA2kX-PoP stipulation sheet.  The SS will be list of your personal stipulations for the contract.  This is a tailor made list.  If you put that she cannot have sex with anyone else, then she is in breech of contract is she fucks someone else.  It is implicitly, clearly, without fuzzy language, laid out… your personal rules for being entered into a PoP contract with another person.

The PoP SS can be as restrictive or as loose as you wish it to be.

The problem with all of this… no one is that fucking open minded.

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