There was a news story a few weeks ago about a woman who was removed from a train for speaking loudly on her cell phone for almost 16 hours in a car designated as a “quiet” car. That one individual could talk for 16 hours straight is completely beyond me. This feat of human accomplishment was previously thought impossible aside from a scenario in which Sarah Palin is asked whether Jesus would be for or against a man carrying a pink backpack. It is widely known that such a question would result in a day’s worth of scripture references, hunting advice, erroneous little league hockey information, and the eventual assertion that pink is a one way ticket to hell for men who choose to accessorize with it.

While being removed from the train by police, the woman apparently said she felt disrespected by passengers confronting her about her behavior which is why she became aggressive. I can only hope that she did indeed feel thoroughly disrespected. She deserved heaping spoonfulls of disrespect, if there was room for any on top of what I can only imagine was a lot of burger king. “R-E-S-P-E-C-T? She’s better versed in KFC.”

Then several days ago a similar event occurred where a woman was being thrown off a train for speaking on her phone in a quiet car and she began to talk about how educated she was while arguing with train employees. Someone of course recorded it on their phone, and when you watch the video, you’ll see the woman behaving like an arrogant, inconsiderate toad of a human being. It may sound excessive but I think many of us saw that video (looks like it is no longer on YouTube) and had this longing to see her punished more extensively than merely being removed from the train. In the old days this would have led to her being publicly tarred and feathered and what is going through my head is a modern version of that called “superglued and urban outfittered.” I think you get the gist of what that entails.

We probably couldn’t get away with that, but given individuals like these are on the rise in our society and that the voodoo dolls I create with their pictures and do very, very bad things to seem to be ineffective, something else must be done. I feel that just like the federal Air Marshal program, we should create a new branch of law enforcement designed to combat the inconsiderate. These plainclothes officers will be present to police people who are incapable of observing the required protocol in various public situations. Though many in society would be OK with seeing such individuals beaten with large canes as I believe they still do in Singapore to people who buy wicker furniture from Pier 1, I have a better idea. The officers will arrest these individuals, and upon proof of their crimes, they will be placed in the Inconsiderate Behavior Reeducation Program which consists of the following:

1. Offenders face a one year ban from all forms of public transportation.
2. Offenders must pay a fine of at least $500 to be donated to a local charity (not tax deductible).
3. Offenders have to hand out healthy snacks like orange slices or organic carrots at the site of their crime for at least 10 hours at their own expense while carrying a sign that says “People like me are only alive because society has evolved such that it is no longer acceptable to exile me from the tribe and wait for me to die while fending for myself”
4. Offenders are automatically added to a Facebook group called “World’s Worst People” which they stay a member of for 12 months. This is a public group and can be viewed by anyone.
5. Every day for a month offenders are sent an email, flagged high priority with that little exclamation point from Microsoft Outlook for added irritation with a comprehensive public behavior guide created by Martha Stewart. Each night they will complete an online test based on that day’s email and each question missed will equal an extra 20 minutes of time added on to #3.
6. Overseen by government officials, offenders have to spend a total of 20 hours on Skype where other Skype users throughout the world can pay $5 to login and say anything they want to them for up to a minute online. The local government collects all revenues potentially generating up to $6,000 per offense.

Who’s with me?

I have a request. Next time you end up early somewhere and whoever you’re waiting for has yet to arrive, ask yourself if it is really necessary to pull out your phone and pretend like you are doing something so that you don’t look so alone. The reality is you are alone, no one is there with you, and this fact is clear to everyone who can see you. Pacing through your phone texting people without really needing to, sending work emails to seem like you are a hard working individual at all hours, making unnecessary calls to friends and family who can see through the fact that you called because you were just killing time and not sincerely interested in their well being, and doing everything possible to make it seem like you don’t really care that you are by yourself does not typically result in a solution to your predicament any sooner.

This phenomena seems slightly more common in females who so often are apprehensive of being seen in public alone, be it sitting at a bar, walking down the street, or shopping for Volkswagens (guys don’t buy them anymore). Regardless, I challenge you all to resist the urge to reach for your devices the next time you find yourself alone in public for a couple seconds. Here’s the rationale that isn’t going through people’s minds when they see that you are obviously waiting for someone and have your phone out doing something: ” Hmm, although that individual is alone, they must still be outstanding because clearly they have important matters to attend to on their mobile device and cannot afford to have any time wasted. Haste makes waste, I say, and this go-getter agrees.”

No, you aren’t fooling anyone unless you have an app that makes your screen look like Words With Friends to others but is really porn that is only visible to you, in which case, get on your phone the second some downtime presents itself. The point is, your situation is fully transparent, so what is so bad about just chilling out and taking in the scenery? Are you reading updates from the Foreign Affairs app which you haven’t perused yet  because the Economist comes every week and it is like amazing how much news they can pull together in that little magazine, particularly for a European publication cause everyone knows how much vacation time they get over there? You probably aren’t, but if that’s the case, then cool.

Seriously though, think about it next time. Sure, people are looking at you wondering if you will get stood up and they’re also thinking to themselves that whoever you are waiting on must be more important than you because they obviously have more going on than you do and can’t just show up on time. I mean, aside from that, no one is drawing any conclusions about you though so just putt the phone down and don’t worry about it.

VH1 decided to take it upon themselves to instruct and scold men as it pertains to their dating exploits with the series “Undateable: The Top 100 Things Guys Do That Guarantee They Won’t Be Dating Or Having Sex” based on the book by Ellen Rakieten and Anne Coyle.

I can actually tell you the 1 thing that will also ensure this which is being so confused that you would turn to VH1 for your dating knowledge in the first place. Afterall, this is the network that brought us Flavor of Love, I Love New York, Rock of Love, and Tool Academy so if you think they’re out to give you quality romantic advice then you are in the right IQ range to be a contestant on one of those shows. Go ahead and do it, your Mensa application can wait.

The aim of this show is more in the pursuit of laughs than really trying to give advice anyway because it seems to eschew the big picture ideas that might make more sense for the more hilarious format of listing things that are basically just bad ideas in the first place. From what I’ve seen so far the list includes the kinds of things that complicate the acquisition of friends overall, not just romantic interests. Let’s review some of them:

• Ordering wine at a baseball game
  • I mean, wine at a ballgame? Well no shit. Even most men in San Francisco know better than that, but mostly because it is hard to find the right grape varietal to pair with a vegan soy dog topped with brie and hormone-free caviar.
• Having a Mullet
  • Are we still talking about mullets? How long is the mullet thing really going to be relevant? Is Jeff Foxworthy doing some of the writing for VH1 now? Whomever needs to be told their mullet is not going to help their game likely should be informed in person because they must not have television, internet, or access to recently printed media, so look for them at a Tea Party gathering.
• Cellphone belt clip
  • This one is kind of played out too, but it is basically the modern day equivalent to the pocket protector. In my day, that’s one way the nerds were differentiated on Saved by The Bell, and I don’t watch any of the teen shows now, but my guess is that the nerds on them have Cellphone belt clips to more functionally access the digital memo containing their hit lists. Nerds have gotten a lot meaner since the early 90′s.
• Owning more than one cat
  • Having one cat is pushing it. What you need to ask yourself is “Am I Sarah McLaughlin?” If the answer is “No”, then stop trying to rescue more cats because while it may be nice, it will get you absolutely nowhere with women whether VH1 decides to include that little tidbit of dating reality or not.
• Wearing socks with Sandals
  • Another obvious one because just from a purely objective standpoint, the two should be mutually exclusive. Sandals are specifically designed to be worn barefoot and if you need socks on, then it isn’t exactly sandal weather, making them the wrong choice of footwear. I will say that this does not apply to you if you are wearing the traditional Japanese tabi sock which is specifically designed to go with sandals. Typically these are worn by traditional Japanese dancers and artists, Shinto priests and Buddhist monks as well as waiters and waitresses in traditional Japanese restaurants. The only non-Japanese guy I can think of who can pull this off is Richard Gere. So if you’re Richard Gere, go for it, but if you’re not Japanese or Richard Gere, which is a lot of people, then as the saying goes- you don’t tug on superman’s cape, you don’t spit into the wind, you don’t pull the mask off that old Lone Ranger, and you don’t mess around with Jim, unless he’s wearing socks with sandals, in which case ridicule the hell out of that douche.

You get the picture here. The full list of offenses discussed in this show is exhaustive, but what I’m saying is that these things aren’t specific to dating, they’re just general rules of thumb men should follow in the pursuit of any sort of social acceptance. Many of the items are divergent from a central theme like not being cheap (asking to go dutch on a date, not paying for valet parking and making a date walk instead, etc.). OK, VH1, we get it, men need to spend money on women if they’re going to have a chance. In doing so, women can more effectively acquire necessary resources, convenience, and possibly items that are luxuries like yoga pants. An inability or unwillingness to do so is grounds for eternal bachelorhood and diminishes ones chances of having their DNA carried on. This has been true since man made his home in caves and painted murals by torchlight late into the night after the women had grown tired from bitching about how they could have had more deerskin blankets if only the men had planned the hunt better and not waited til the last minute to pull all their spears together when they knew they were going to do it before the next full moon in the first place.

But the reality, which I am pretty sure VH1 decided to leave out is that you can do everything they say not to and still get a lot of action if you are loaded. You could have an all business up front/party in the rear haircut, own 3 cats that share your bed with you,  a Motorola Razr (there’s still some out there owned by classic phone enthusiasts) clipped to your belt, white socks up to your knees with Birkenstocks on, and a glass of Cabernet Franc in each hand for the Yankees/Mets series which you and your date took the subway to instead of a cab and still do pretty well for yourself with the ladies, provided you are wealthy. Just ask that terrible woman from the show Millionaire Matchmaker on Bravo- she’ll back me up, though I have a ways to go before she’ll hook me up.

It’s like a Panini, but for rednecks. KFC recently unveiled a new sandwich, the Double Down which consists of two pieces of bacon, two slices of Monterey Jack and Pepperjack cheese, and the Colonel’s sauce (mayonnaise, only deadlier) sandwiched by two pieces of either grilled or fried chicken breast with enough salt (sodium) to give the Dead Sea a hard on. Since this is a post devoted entirely to a fast food sandwich, I would like to balance the nonsense of such an endeavor with some educational information on the wonderful ingredient of sodium without which there would be no Double Down: the English word salary actually stems from the latin salarium which were wafers of salt sometimes given to Roman soldiers along with their wages. Working at KFC today probably yields a similar payment structure.

Moving on, the sandwich definitely satisfies the food pyramid of the American diet, ensuring that daily bacon and special sauce requirements are met while seeing to it that the boundaries of sodium and fat intake recommendations can continue to be tested because those guidelines were undoubtedly created by pussies. Their commercials implore you to “explore the un-hungry side” of KFC, and for me, the un-hungry side starts every time I think of their food. The Double Down represents a desire to continue pushing the envelope of how quickly Americans can eat themselves to death, which has become somewhat of a national pastime close in popularity to the other national pastimes of getting real pissed off about paying taxes of any sort and/or worrying about Satan. Having said that, I would like to see someone take the Double Down to the next level by adding a beef patty and then a Cinnabon to both ends of this sandwich, resulting in a mega-sandwich that Anthony Bourdain will end up trying in an episode of “No Reservations” before working in a reference to Ingmar Bergman somehow.

But anyway, back to the Double Down and the way it shits on all concepts of sensible cuisine, ironic because eating one undoubtedly conflicts with what you might be able to shit on. What we have in the Double Down is the celebrity sex tape of fast food. It’s not so much the revenue or margins that the Double Down will directly account for as it is the overall notoriety it will garner for  KFC via media attention and posts like this one. The item is nothing short of absurd. Fried chicken breasts shouldn’t necessarily be affiliated with sandwiches at all, however, for them to actually be the sandwiching component is like putting the creme filling of an Oreo on either side of the chocolate wafer. Ok, I’d probably still eat it too, but it wouldn’t be right.

I haven’t actually eaten a Double Down because if I’m going to become obese it is going to be on something worthwhile like Stroopwaffels which they don’t serve at KFC yet as you can’t pair them with gravy without incurring the wrath of a dozen angry Dutchmen. And believe you me, no one wants anything to do with a dozen angry Dutchmen. So, I can’t comment on its taste, though I imagine the Double Down probably tastes ok if you are the kind of person who puts ranch on pizza or commits other abominations against food. This satisfactory taste is probably going to be followed by physical discomfort and then regret, and if you’re after that you might as well just watch The Tonight Show.

I would like to paint for you a picture of another dimension, a dimension where spending money frivolously is a competition, and due to a lack of purpose, individuals fashion their pets in their own likeness. In this dimension, the universe is not an infinite interwoven set of galaxies, it is rather an infinite interwoven set of Burberry scarves in which live people sustained by the fibers thereof in a manner we might equate to our own sun. Also in this skewed, soul-less dimension, societies spend $300 Million on dog clothing.

You might think this other dimension is the only place where so much could be spent on something so completely useless, however, according to a recent article in the New York Post, Americans spent approximately $300 million on dog clothing in 2009 (click here to read the article). So, needless to say, I thought that this deserved some attention, and by attention, I mean ridicule. Buying outfits for a dog is just like using that little exclamation point in Microsoft Outlook when you want your email to have “high priority.” Sure, you can do it, but all it does is make people want to smack you.

Many countries can’t even adequately clothe their populations and yet by spending $300 million annually on it, Americans are in effect saying “ha ha, in our country we are so affluent we buy clothes for things you might accept as food at a level that exceeds your GDP.”  If you purchase clothing for your dog, I suppose you probably think it’s cute. It’s not cute. To other dog clothing owners it might seem acceptable, but to well adjusted members of society, it is the source of competing laughter and ire. Now that someone has put a monetary value on the industry in the US, and that said monetary value is absurd, it is along the lines of a national shame just like NASCAR.

If you are a single heterosexual male (none of these apply to you, Eric Massa) you are likely familiar with a puppy’s value to you in your quest to meet women. However, putting any sort of clothing on that puppy is what you call a neutralizer of that effect and in fact there is an inverse relationship between the amount of clothing on your dog and the amount of clothing most women will subsequently remove for you. Ladies, the fact is guys will still sleep with you regardless of how much clothing is on your dog, so while sexual repercussions do not apply to you, you are mostly to blame for this and you still need to knock it off.

I dog-ress, but Attention Poor Discretionary Income Spending Americans: Dogs already have coats, they’re descriptively called “coats” and they consist of fur. Unlike humans or Heidi Montag, God created dogs with pretty much everything they were intended to have unless you’re doing something crazy like raising Whippets in Siberia which is really mean cause no dog should have to live in a country where they might at one point have to fly Aeroflot. Your dog doesn’t need a raincoat, shoes, sweater vest, visor, or Snuggie, because animals don’t wear clothes, they frequently become them. Sweater vests, visors, and Snuggies shouldn’t even really go on people. The NY Post article referenced above even cites veterinarians who contend that clothing your dog might endanger its health, mostly because normal dogs who are not wearing clothing will just want to kick its ass. If your dog needs clothing, there is something it likely needs even more than that which is a new owner who isn’t intent on being a jackass.

In closing, here’s a few things your dog might be thinking when you dress it up. I invite you to add to this list:

“Sure you cut my balls off, but this really takes the cake”
“I guess dogs can look gay too”
“Just cause you get cold in this weather doesn’t mean that I am also a pussy”

Football fans and champions of poor grammar alike are by now familiar with the phrase “Who Dat”, a rallying cry for the New Orleans Saints Football team. This phrase is a shortening of an originally longer chant popularized in the 80′s: “Who Dat Say Dey Gonna Beat Dem Saints? Who Dat? Who Dat?” which in English means “Who is it that might assert they would be better at Football than the Saints? Who is it? Who is it?” Although the true author of this quote is being contested, it is quite likely that there is an open position with their name on it at the San Francisco Chronicle.

Anyway, the Wall St. Journal is reporting that the NFL is now contesting ownership of the phrase “Who Dat” because their academic pursuits have become tiresome. The NFL asserted rights to the phrase through the Florida department of state earlier last week and subsequently issued cease and desist orders regarding the sales of merchandise with the phrase to many local businesses in New Orleans. I find it unfortunate that the NFL has time for these types of shenanigans particularly in a city whose economy, along with mastery of elementary English grammar, could still use a lot of help. I mean, can’t the NFL just let New Orleans have their confusing sayings to themselves?

Residents of New Orleans are rightfully pointing out that the NFL never cared much about the phrase when the Saints were losing, but now that there is money to be made putting “Who Dat” on a t-shirt, beer koozie, or Louisiana issued drivers licenses, they all of a sudden are claiming dat dey own dat phrase. Maybe they want it because it’s actually an acronym for John Madden’s favorite breakfast: Western Ham Omelette, Danish And Toast. Maybe they want it because they’re investors in the Dr. Seuss/Football Hybrid movie being produced by 20th Century Fox “Horton Hears a Who Dat” starring Hugh Jackman and Madonna. I’m not sure why the NFL wants to be the one who mispronounced something and then misspelled it when writing it out so badly, but this never would have happened in the XFL.

Who Dat knocking at the door? It’s greed, it’s someone more heartless than Jay Leno’s agent, it’s everything wrong with our legal system except that it is absent of anything Judge Judy related. Beyond that, it’s just an absolute joke and I hope the residents of NOLA find a way to stick it to the NFL, so I’ll leave you with some recommendations:

• Get someone on the team to step up and pull an Ochocinco by getting their last name legally changed to “Whodat” so that jerseys can once again be legally printed with the phrase on it.
• Designing merchandise with illustrations of hands performing the sign language version of “Who Dat” with an additional hand at the end featuring only a middle finger and then “NFL.”
• Changing the chant from “Who Dat” to “Qui est ce”, a rough French equivalent hearkening to the region’s French heritage and making the French feel good about someone speaking their language again.
• Coming up with an entirely new song which preserves the grammatically incorrect roots of the original, but takes it a step further:
  Who dat being all malevolent?
  Dat da NFL, Dat da NFL.
  Who dat ruining a nice event?
  Dat da NFL, Dat da NFL.
  Who dat being like Ebeneezer Scrooge?
  Dat da NFL, Dat da NFL.
  Who dat acting like a big ol’ Douche?
  Dat da NFL, Dat da NFL.
  Who dat coming like a comic book villian,
  Who dat likely to prostitute they own children,
  Who dat struggling to complete easy mazes,
  Who dat laying claim to grammatically incorrect phrases?
  Dat da NFL, Dat da NFL.

As many of you are now aware, yesterday during commentary on the unfortunate earthquake in Haiti, the unintentional comedian and spiritual charlatan Pat Robertson asserted that Haitians had made a pact with Satan to rid the island of the French during the 1800′s and that this natural disaster was a divine evening of the score for that. I’m not sure which Robertson is worst at: seismology, history, or not crapping his pants, but my guess is that it is history. I think God keeps Pat Robertson around for the material.

It’s unclear where Robertson got the idea that Haitians made a deal with Satan to rid themselves of the French in the first place. I found no evidence of this in my research, although I do see evidence of the devil taking a trip to Georgia (poor guy) as recorded by one Charlie Daniels. I’m pretty sure Satan would not have helped Haitians overthrow the French anyway as I hear he kind of likes France because of the shorter work week and their love of ubiquitous nudity in things like commercials for ice cream. Further, Satan probably could not have played a role in the slave revolt of 1804 which is what actually led to Haiti’s independence as at the time he was busy writing texts that would ultimately become lyrics for Jason Mraz songs and was not looking for side gigs regardless of what it may have said on his LinkedIn profile. This is according to an official statement that was relayed to me via his intermediary, Gloria Allred.

Because of Mr. Robertson’s lack of insight, knowledge, or informed followers, it is unsurprising that he has not been named as a possible replacement for the 12:05 AM time slot at NBC. I think the Devil made a deal with Jay Leno, agreeing to supply him with steady employment and cars if he would just stop doing Clinton jokes. Just in case Pat is taking some time off from making shit up to read this, it was actually the Enriquillo-Plantain Garden Fault System that caused the unfortunate quake in Haiti. A quake of similar magnitude struck there in the late 1800′s and the region is known to be seismically active because, well, it’s got a fault line that runs through it. Pretty sure the fault line was there before Haiti’s independence in 1804, Pat, so leave us now as you need to be changed, in more ways than one.