Fighting ISIS

I think it’s safe to say we’re all pretty mad at ISIS these days. But what to do about it?

We can vote for politicians whose terrorism policies are to our liking.


We can secretly funnel money from our Cayman Islands bank accounts to help arm Syrian locals who are also disenchanted with Isis.


We can curl up on the floor and watch Sponge Bob Square Pants reruns until we get back to our “happy place”….


or…or….we can look for stores with the word “Isis” in their names and vandalize them.


And Now For Something A Little Lighter, A Little Higher…

File under “Did anyone not see this coming?”


Snoop Dogg has finally done the obvious: launched his own line of marijuana, “Leafs By Snoop.” As far as the quality of the product goes, I have complete confidence in the rapper who penned such classics as “Vapors” and “Too High.” I mean, he’s like Pig Pen, only it’s a cloud of weed smoke, not dust, which follows him everywhere.



Things I Can’t Sell In My Bar

As the owner of a bar, I am allowed to sell one of the last legal drugs out there: alcohol. Booze. Hooch. Juice. Suds. Road Soda. Lunatic Soup. Y’know, the Sauce.


And you don’t need a prescription to get it from me. You just need a valid I.D. proving you’re 21, and cash or a credit card that won’t be declined. So it was interesting to me to find out the other day what I CAN’T sell.


I had to drop by the local office of the ABC (state department of Alcoholic Beverage Control), the folks who regulate liquor sales, to take care of some paperwork, and there, in the waiting room, was a display case full of some very interesting – and scary – and confusing – and straight up baffling – things which I can not sell to you, no matter how good your fake I.D..

Campaigning For Dead People

So you’re thinking about sending in $5 or $10 to Sanders, Cruz, Clinton, Fiorina, maybe even Malloy or Paul.




That’s easy. They’re alive.

A Michael Jackson Tribute Band That Is ACTUALLY Whiter Than Michael

It wasn’t these guys….


I never even got their name. I was driving home from work the other day, when, at a stop light, I heard a sound. A familiar sound. A sound that made me bop my head back and forth in the car. I turned down the radio. The song was coming from somewhere outside. I couldn’t quite place it at first. I rolled down my window. Oh yeah, no doubt about it.


Somebody was butchering Michael Jackson’s “Wanna Be Startin’ Something.”

You’re Getting Enough Sleep


For years we’ve been hearing that modern life, with its hectic demands and ever-accelerating pace, is robbing us of precious sleep. We’ve blamed everything from coffee to the electric light bulb to the 24/7 global economy to explain why today’s world is keeping us from the 8 to 10 hours of sleep we so desperately “need” for good health.

Modern life, the narrative goes, is killing us, one lost night of sleep at a time.

Turns out, we’ve been wrong. The whole time.

The $5 Million Dollar Billy The Kid Picture: The Real Story


Much has been made recently over the find of a tintype photograph of notorious outlaw/hero Billy The Kid and his gang, The Regulators, found for $2 at a Fresno, California, junk shop, and currently valued at $5 million dollars. Five years ago Randy Guijarro found the tintype mixed in with other photographs inside a box at the shop.

Initially he had misgivings: “I liked it because it was old-looking, but it was more beat up than I Iike,” Guijarro told the L.A. Times. “I hesitated.”

But – what the hell – in the end, Guijarro decided to shell out the two bucks.


When he got home and peered at the image through a magnifying glass, he thought he recognized a familiar face: Henry McCarty aka Billy The Kid.


On his Wikipedia page, Billy’s “occupation” is listed as “horse rustler, cowboy, gambler, outlaw.”

Superbowl Here I Come!


It’s at the top of my bucket list (actually it’s #3 behind napping on the moon and training a dog to cook omelets). I’m thinking (not really) about going to Superbowl 50 next February, since it’s only about an hour’s drive (3 hours in typical bay area traffic, if I’m lucky) away.

I’m even prepared (sorta) to spend up to $1000 (one thousand dollars and 00/100) for that ticket.


Which, it turns out, might buy me 1/10th of a seat (time to start dieting now).

Prepping to add Superbowl to my bucket list, I found out some interesting factoids – good and bad (overwhelmingly bad) – about going to Superbowl 50.

Around The Horn: Trump – Balloon Or Bomb?

I admit it: The Donald captivates me.


I sat glued to the TV during the first and second Republican debates, waiting to see what the man would say next – about drug dealing Mexicans; about homely candidates; about China kicking our ass; about the effect of menstruation on debate moderators.

And he never fails to disappoint: he’s stuck his foot so far deep down his throat I can’t believe he’s not shitting shoelaces.

And yet he keeps climbing in the polls.

But that’s okay. To me it’s all just a fun sideshow. I can laugh it off because I don’t believe there is any way in hell this guy will win the Republican nomination. He’s unelectable in the general. The party bosses, Illuminati, Koch brothers and Rotarians, et al will conspire behind the scenes to bring him down and put up a genuine threat like Rubio or Bush in the end.


But am I wrong?