Maybe Obama can be President 

$85 – This is the over/under on next month’s spike in my electric bill after Mr. & Mrs. O. spent the weekend. Why do I anticipate such an increase? Because Mr. O. kept the thermostat at a balmy 82 degrees for two days. This guy believes that any temperature under 75 is too cold. I’m not kidding. One summer his electric bills averaged $25 because he never turned on the air conditioner.

At least he didn’t piss on my foot this time. I wish I could say the same, but he fell asleep on my sofa both nights. I was just marking my territory.

Jimmy Buffett is finally coming back to St. Louis after a long hiatus. The tickets sold out in 15 minutes, but I found a way to get into the concert. I’m going to get a job as a security guard at the amphitheatre. The Buffett show is the first one of the season, so my plan is to report to work, change into an SOB T-shirt, and then disappear into the crowd with a margarita.

- Paris Hilton was in town last month. And of course Dani-girl was there.

- An ad on Craigslist selling cement blocks. Thanks, Leo K. NSFW

- Stuff White People Like. Thanks, Cari H. 

- Nothing says St. Patrick’s Day like dancing monkeys.

Hey hey hey!!! But I like it when that lightning comes.

There’s a time and place for everything. Well almost everything. Yesterday I was at a business luncheon in Frontenac, an upscale suburb of the Lou. Yippie-Kay-Yay…

I took a seat at a table with a young, black professional woman to my left and a 60-something male college professor to my right. They were discussing cataracts when I sat down, but the professor quickly turned the conversation to the $4k prostitute the now ex-governor of New York was caught banging. Awkward.

Thankfully, the seats the young lady was saving were quickly filled by her friends. But I was then forced into a one-on-one conversation with the professor.

He started talking about the recent foot of snow we received. He explained that he was unable to shovel his driveway, so he paid someone $40 to do the job. “Where do you live?” I asked.

He loudly replied, “I live about two miles west of here – in the ghetto! You know, the hood! The slums of Town & Country…!”

I wanted to crawl under the table, but turned my attention to the iced-tea that had just been placed in front of me. My best guess is the ghetto comment was some kind of running joke between him and his well-to-do buddies. But this wasn’t the tee box on the 18th hole at the country club.

The funny thing is that he and I would probably laugh our asses off over a couple of martinis.

Stupidity Tax Offense: Justifying your smoking habit by saying, “Hey, I could get hit by a car tomorrow while crossing the street.” – Cha Ching! $10.

Have you ever told a few people that you were expecting out of town guests for the weekend, been asked where they were staying, replied, “My house,” and then heard, “Is there a dry place for them to sleep?”

Me neither.

- Remember ladies, March 14th is Steak and BJ Day.

- Security camera catches drunk guy pissing on the sidewalk while walking.

- College students down a 100 person beer bong.

- How would you like to be married to the Queen of Farts? Feel free to read her journal. NSFW

This morning I shot six holes in my freezer. I think I got cabin fever. Somebody sound the alarm.

Crowe Dog waits for the relay handoff

I put off cleaning out the kitchen cabinets last night. I figured if I got to bed early, I could do it this morning before the workers got here. What I didn’t plan on was being kept awake by sex-starved neighbors who were going at it like they were on the Titanic.

I mean this chick was screaming profanities like a porn star. I kept waiting for the director to yell, “Cut! Let’s take five people.”

When I first awoke to the dirty talk I thought I had just left the VCR on. Yeah, I know they sell porn on DVD, but I’m a traditionalist. That or I refuse to buy porn on disc when I can get it on the internet for free.

Happy Belated Birthday Mark K.

- 8 years after Bill Clinton left the DC area. Thanks, Thom K.

- 32 things you can do with beer. Thanks, Loverboy.

- The ultimate Peep Show. Thanks, G-Man.

- Behold the power of Mr. Methane. Thanks, Lil’ Bro.

Many miles away something crawls to the surface of a dark Scottish lake.

No Tom + No Gina Party = No drunken stories from the weekend.

Things should be different next weekend when Mr. & Mrs. O. make their triumphant return to the Lou. It seems like only yesterday when Mr. O. pissed on my foot at the Tom Petty concert. Good times.

The SOB T-shirts will be in on Tuesday. I’ll let everyone know when and where they can pick theirs up. For the out-of-towners, your shirts will be in the mail later this week.

There is one caveat for the ladies that bought tank tops. The manufacturer recommends not wearing a bra with them. And by manufacturer, I mean me.

Have you ever felt like Crowe Dog was staring at you, turned around, and heard him ask, “Do you color your hair?”

Me neither.

I would like to write more tonight, but I’ve been caught up in a nationwide prostitution ring. Okay, that’s not entirely true. I have some people coming to work on my kitchen first thing in the morning, and they need everything removed from the cabinets. As of 10:00 tonight, I haven’t removed a thing.

“I had my tongue so far up her puckered starfish, I carved my initials in tomorrow’s turd.” – Anonymous

With one breath, with one flow, you will know…

The warmer temperatures today had the snow melting like Crowe Dog into the arms of Ryan Seacrest.

Have you ever been on a diet and ate an entire sleeve of Girl Scout Thin Mint Cookies before going to bed?

Me neither.

Stupidity Tax Offense: Saying that you hate moving your clocks forward for daylight savings because you lose an hour of sleep. Cha Ching! $10.

- Fly on Big Balls Airlines. Thanks, Ken B. NSFW

- My son is a heterosexual. Thanks, Jeff B. NSFW

- Will Arnett appears in a sex tape with the Olsen twins. NSFW

I know a place where I can go when I’m alone.

We got a foot of snow today. Just another reason to have drinks with Gina Party…

Happy Birthday to a couple of SOB readers: Mr. O. & Leo K.

- Hillary and Obama debate on SNL.

- 99 Words for Boobs.

- Continued good sex in the Big East.

- She must be a real looker.

- I always place my hand over my heart during the National Anthem at a Chiefs game. And I’m usually out of my noodle.

- Kids songs sung by rock stars.

Oh the weather outside is frightful. But the fire is so…STFU.

What’s happened since we last met? Glad you asked.

On Thursday I got together with a few college buddies for happy hour. And by hour, I mean six.

Melrose Place had their happy hour on Friday. And by hour, I mean seven.

You might think I spent Saturday on the couch after the previous two nights. Au contraire, mon frère. Gina Party was lurking in the bushes wanting to spend the afternoon at Fast Eddie’s Bon Air. That idea turned into a bust once we got there and discovered the place was packed.

We got back into the car and headed to Hooters. After a few over-priced drafts, we left for the Trainwreck Saloon to see Issac. My liver can only take so much, so my night ended fairly early.

At least that’s what I had planned until I heard a knock at the door at 3:30 AM. I looked through the peephole and saw Tom staggering at my doorstep. “Yeah,” I said.

“Benny Boy, open the door,” he yelled.

“Tom, I’ve seen that face through this peephole before. And nothing good is going to happen if I open this,” I replied.

Of course I let him in, but smirked for a second while making him believe that I wasn’t.

He told me that Dani-girl had just called, and three guys had come home with her and Abby from the bar. I didn’t ask questions. I just got dressed and walked over there with him.

Dani-girl and Abby’s apartment was full of late-night party goers. I knew all of the girls, but had never met the three guys in question. The smile on their faces quickly turned into an “I just got a corn cob shoved up my ass” look when Tom and I walked in.

They were there to party with hot chicks, and probably hadn’t planned on the two of us showing up. Not to mention Crowe Dog’s crew that barged through the door a few minutes later. Apparently Tom had called in the Calvary.

The girls were fine, and Crowe Dog left after an hour or so. Tom passed out on the couch, and I found myself being the only guy in our group still participating. I decided to wait out the Three Amigos. They were all in their early 20’s, and I have since added one of them to my “Top Ten Douche Bags of All Time” list.

I hadn’t heard that much bullshit…well…since I was in my early 20’s.

The sun was coming up by the time the three of them finally left. I waited a few minutes and then whispered, “Sleep tight little fellar,” into Tom’s ear on my way out.

He just grinned and asked me if I wanted to go to a bar later.

Girl you better get your red head back in bed before the morning.