I’ve received a few comments regarding the rather disturbing picture of me in a Hooters tank top posted last week. Let be clear about one thing – It was meant to be funny. In no way was I trying to be serious. Saying that picture is sexy is like saying Bill Clinton has a trophy wife.

Have you ever flexed your biceps in front of a cop and said, “These are out of your jurisdiction”?

Me neither.

Ghost Riding Grandma. WTF is ghost riding anyway?

Mr. Tree. I don’t get it, but the chicks are hot. 

The internet has crashed. 

Watch this guy get himself on Fox News.

Well I just want to live until I gotta die. I know I ain’t perfect, but God knows I try.

Benny

I made a proposal to a female friend over the weekend. She has made several comments about how she likes to give. Saturday night I told her how much I liked to receive.

She became upset after I asked what was so wrong with two consenting adults doing something they both enjoyed. And then she walked away.

Let me go on. Big hands I know your the one.

Benny

Well, it didn’t take long. I enjoyed a few cold Bud Lights at the pool last night. Like riding a bike…

If you’re in the Lou, Jake’s Leg is opening for Bruce Hornsby at Live on the Levee this Saturday, July 14th. The music starts at 6:30 PM under the Arch. I’ll be the guy wearing a tie-dye t-shirt holding a beer. Sweet.

Are you kidding? I am Queens Boulevard. – Thanks, Jane B. (formerly Jane W.) She was in NYC interviewing for a job, and I promised to put this up. And “Yes” she still has a sweet ass.

A Tale of Two Houses – Thanks, Tory K. Al Gore is a hypocrite.

Father’s Day in the Hood – Thanks, Sheila L.

Deer hunting with a Bird – Thanks, Ken B.

Michelin Man’s Mom (Warning: Contains nudity) – Thanks, Ken B.

Girl needs a new optician (Warning: Contains adult material) – Thanks, Braz.

Ideas that would take me all around the world. I stood and watched the smoke behind the mountains curl. It took me a long time to get back on the train.

Benny

More than a mouthful…

Day ten, the final day of my self-imposed sobriety, has come and passed. Most of the day was filled with the usual work-related stuff, but the evening presented a couple of good stories.

I met with a guy who owns a satellite company about the prospects of installing either Dish Network or DirecTV at my apartment complex. He took a look at the outside wiring, but kept peeking over his shoulder at the clubhouse.

After a few minutes, he asked, “Did you guys have a pool party a few weeks ago?”

“Yeah. Why, were you there?”

“My band played at it.”

“Do you remember me?” I asked.

“Oh yeah.”

I asked if he was mad at me for singing, and he just laughed. He said they usually allow people to sing as long as it’s in a controlled setting, and said, “You were nothing close to being in control.”

I commented on how I nailed Stevie Ray Vaughn’s Pride and Joy, and he laughed again.

It’s a small mf’n world, man.

After he left, I received a call from Gina Party who was looking for someone to drive her drunk-ass home from a bar. I obliged, but my days of being the go-to-guy for designated driver are over.

I’ve climbed my Mount Everest, and now it’s time for the descent back into drunkenness.

Benny

Thanks Vance for sending the vodka story because I had nothing to say about day nine except that I’m thirsty.

If you didn’t read the story, it describes how two high school girls soaked tampons in vodka. Then inserted them into their snappers before a dance to get drunk, and avoid being detected by the breathalyzer check at the door.

If this really works, I’m going to cram one up my ass. That isn’t considered drinking, is it?

I would love to sit here and type all day, but I have a networking luncheon which will give me an opportunity to hear lots of acronyms and buzz words.

I’m going to be proactive, and go sit on the toilet. There seems to be a lot of synergy between my bowels and butt.

Benny

No beer and no cable is limiting my entertainment options. Last night I watched CSI: Miami. David Caruso is one of the worst actors ever. Who watches this stupid sh-t? Probably Dems.

Left Lane Drivers of America

Flight Suit Up

Screwing with the boss

The Puberty Pals (Warning: Contains adult material)

Beer is your friend. Who needs a buddy?

Benny

Here are a couple of corrections from yesterday.

1. The charity auction to bid on Dani-girl is going to be at Pujols 5; not Trainwreck Saloon. The event takes place on Wednesday, July 25th and begins at 6 PM. Proceeds benefit the Leukemia Society.
2. In my rant regarding Live Earth, I referred to the hypocrites flying to gigs on private jets as musicians. I should have called them entertainers. I didn’t realize a handful of rappers were involved, and they are not musicians.

Day seven on Sunday began with a lady asking me if football season had started. I was watching ESPN SportsCenter at the gym, and they were showing highlights of the Arena Football Playoffs.

“Is it football season already?”

“No, this is arena football.”

“What’s that? Amateur football?”

“No, it’s football played indoors.”

“When do they play?”

“I don’t know. I guess they start sometime in the spring, and this is the playoffs.”

“Do you play football?”

“Yeah, I play middle linebacker for the Rams.”

“Really?”

“I have to go now. Have a nice day.” And by have a nice day, I meant STFU you stupid bit-h.

The rest of the day was spent like the previous. Hanging out at the pool drinking water, while everyone around me enjoyed cold, refreshing beer.

Have you ever gone to a strip club, agreed to pay two strippers several hundred dollars for an hour of private entertainment, watched them leave after ten minutes, gotten into an argument with the manager over the charges, escorted from the premises by several East St. Louis cops, and then called your credit card company the next morning to dispute the charges?

Neither has Tom.

It’s been one week since you looked at me. Threw your arms in the air and said you’re crazy.

Benny