The Best Of Movember.

Tomorrow is December, which means there will be loud buzzing sounds heard ’round the world tonight and tomorrow morning – such will be the noises of newly fresh-faced men and sinks clogged with hair. Or perhaps no shaving at all, if they’re going full Paul Bunyan and keeping their facial winter coats until Januhairy.

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But it’s true that most men will likely buzz that shit off, so let’s reminisce and laugh and be baffled for what this past month has represented (besides eating a crap ton of turkey in an attempt to say, “My bad, we cool?” to our Native American friends). In other words, Remember, remember the best of Movember.

What IS it?

And let’s not forget our celebrity ‘stache forefathers.

And my personal favorite:

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Dolla, Dolla Bill Ya’ll.

There’s a lesson to be learned here, grasshoppers. Can you figure it out?

When finding yourself at a difficult crossroads (like the one shown above), it’s wise to keep at least two dollars in your wallet at all times.

There now. You may continue with your daily lives.

The More You Know.

If you’ve ever wanted to know the most concise definition of the phrase “fo shizzle my nizzle,” then look no further.

This was written in 2002, so you know it’s legit.

First off, I’m still far more in favor of the original saying than this “fo shizzle” stuff. “Concur” is probably the most undervalued word in the English language, wouldn’t you agree? (insert your own “concur” here.) Not to mention the usage of “whole heartedly” and “brother” really deepens the meaning of the phrase. I’m sure you aren’t my actual sibling, but I’m touched that you would regard me in such a close and familial way, whole heartedly. HUGZ.

Secondly, the Vietnamese know wassup. Pho shizzle my vizzles.

The second lesson of the day is in marketing. Here’s how you grab the people’s attention to the point where they might feel offended, but then you turn shit around and give ’em an internet punch in the face for making such a rash assumption.

BAM. Hut Weber just schooled you on marketing print and now you want to know who they are because, let’s face it, that’s a fucking awesome print idea. Plus, top hats are the bees knees and inspire one to perform industrious dance moves. Clearly.

 

And that concludes this blog’s edition of:

Misleading License Plate Number – Or Is It?

This car is just begging for someone to rear end it.

I bet your Lincoln is a LS. You old dirty gal, you.

I don’t even want to know your mileage.

Here’s Something To Help You Get Back In Gear And Feel Smart Again.

It’s the Monday after Thanksgiving break, which means you’re probably a good 5 pounds heavier than you were last Wednesday. You’re feeling sluggish and wondering how the hell you’re going to get back into work-mode. This morning you looked at yourself in the mirror, let out a deep breath and said, “My God, it’s Monday.” But what you really meant to say was, “I think I ate my brain this weekend.”

Well, fear not my vaguely robust and bloated buttercups! This picture alone will perk up your IQ and remind you that you’re doing just fine. Even with those extra 5 pounds of mashed potatoes.

I think we all share the sentiment of the blonde to the right.

But I love the fact that it reminds me of this:

There now, don’t you feel like you could conquer the world again? The fact that a real Karen Smith truly exists in the world should make you feel equally happy and disappointed in the human brain. But it’s not your brain, so we’re good here.

Conclusion: Friends don’t let friends get ready for events by themselves. Grammatical supervision is required.

Best Use Of The Cone Of Shame.

This will be me at the dinner table tomorrow night for Thanksgiving.

PUMPKIN PIE IS MINE, BITCHES.

Dog wearing cone of shame eats with other dogs

Follow Your Failures.

Conan O’Brien is one of my favorite people that I’ve never met.

Like millions of others, I can claim to have been in the same room as him – and by room, I mean the giant theater at the Palms Resort in Las Vegas. I paid $75 from my part time wages to see Conan at his “Legally Prohibited From Being Funny On Television” tour, proudly displaying my Team Coco shirt. By myself. In the top most upper section. But anyone who wears an imitation knock off of the leather suit worn by Eddie Murphy in “Raw” deserves all my pennies.

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I have a feeling if Conan and I did meet, we’d feel incredibly awkward (stranger danger, hello) and crack far too many icebreaker jokes and puns that we’d somehow find ourselves immediately comfortable with one other. After all, we are of the same pale Irish kin. Although Ryan Gosling, Chris Hemsworth, and Johnny Depp are on my top five list, if presented with the opportunity to meet Conan, it wouldn’t just be a fangirl Facebook post of a snapshot photo (or a restraining order from an attempted dry hump) but a weighted moment in time. I’ve been laughing with this guy for nearly half my life, and there are some people who – without knowing them – you just know are of your kind.

He’s the super smart, incredibly funny guy who never lets an awkward moment go unseen. He’s an improv king who has a vast vocabulary and isn’t afraid to use it. He’s also the most pop culturally savvy almost-50 year old who could easily hang with the college scene while shooting the shit with the 30-40 year olds. He’s an everyman, and although he’s found his fame and fortune, he’s remained a regular guy. I don’t bundle him with the Goslings, Hemsworths, or Paltrows. He’s one of us, a normal dude who just so happens to have a television show.

So when Jay Leno took down the everyman, shit got real. I cried for Conan on that last Tonight Show, because he took one for the team. The uptight older guy pulled the rug out from under our Lego-building, wand-waving, hobbit-loving, pun-wielding, nerdtastic feet. But Conan brought to life that cliche about falling and getting back up – my favorite version in which came from Rocky Balboa:

“It ain’t how hard you hit; it’s about how hard you can get hit, and keep moving forward. How much you can take, and keep moving forward. That’s how winning is done.”

Conan got fucking rocked. If there was ever anyone who got screwed by the pooch in the entertainment industry, it’s him. But Conan said himself, not everyone gets exactly what they want.

And that’s what he told the lucky bastards at Dartmouth last year when he was asked be their 2011 Commencement guest speaker. I hate you, Dartmouth. Just needed to get that out of the way.

Conan gave one of the greatest speeches on planet earth with a surprisingly rich and inspirational message. He took his own shortcomings and told all those graduates that disappointments are inevitable, but not defining. I’ll let his words do the rest.

It’s okay to be afraid of failure, but don’t let failure cloud your head devaluing your full potential. Shit happens, and for all you know, failure was your greatest moment. Take it from Conan, he has reached new levels of comedy gold because he picked himself up and had to figure out something else to do with his talents. Boom.

PROFOUND REINVENTION MOTHAFUCKAS.

Finally! This Happened In Sports.

There’s so much ass slapping and sweaty closeness in sports that, as viewers, I’m pretty sure we’ve all thought, “My God, just make out already.” I’m sure the WNBA would have a larger male following if more of that was happening, but I digress.

This guy finally did that thing that so many of us wanted. Two athletes, super sweaty, super close together, waiting for the game to commence.

Just a little kiss.

And to top things off, this looks like it’s a handball game. And handball is FUCKING AWESOME.

You Know You’re A Movie Nerd When…

You plan in advance to dedicate your Friday night to watching Lincoln, the Steven Spielberg film chronicling the last four years of a longtime dead old president. You also use the word “chronicling” instead of just saying “that is about.”

You can have your Happy Hours, go have fun at your bars. In the meantime, my good friend Jess and I will be enjoying our wine before we head into the theater at least 30 minutes before showtime so we can pee without rushing and imprint our asses warmly into our seats as we excitedly wait for the second coming of Abe Lincoln to grace the big screen.

Isn’t it amazing that Spielberg was able to get Honest Abe to play himself? It’s as if the Lincoln Memorial suddenly came alive, shrunk itself down, colored itself in, and possessed the person of Daniel Day Lewis. Because that’s fucking Abraham Lincoln, goddammit. DDL’s name is simply attached so Hollywood can keep that shit quiet.

Eat your heart out, Hologram Tupac.

So while you’re out shooting pool or perusing barstools, I will be getting my Lincoln on. It’s Oscar season, folks!

But if you don’t give a shit about movies or Lincoln, here are some well placed marketing posters to tickle your fancy.

Well played, public marketing minions. Well played.

 

We Should All Strive To Look This Happy.

One dog is clearly having a better day than the other.

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That is a perfect smile right there. My guess is this dog either just did a trick for a treat, or totally peed on everything in sight. Regardless, I think we’re all having a better day for having seen this picture.

You’re welcome.