Now, I know I’m an arrogant Son of a Bitch (at least my mom always said so), and I know I take a lot of things for granted. But, I never realized that such a little thing, such as breathing through my nose, was so vital to my happiness.

I visited the closest restroom while at work, and although it usually isn’t a pleasure to void myself there, most of the time is only reminds me of a hog farm. Today was different. This time, my eyes were watering before I went down the exclusive little hallway that leads to the dumping grounds. That careful sampling half breath you take before you open your whole airway left me so close to nausea that I knew that mouth-breathing was the only way to keep my lunch in. As the sample air was being processed, I was enduring a deep moral dilemma. My physical need to not be in that room was butting heads with my OCD about washing my hands. I had a few chicken “tenders” (which by the way, were anything but), that left too much greasy residue to just go about my day. That hog smell is irritating and offensive, but not ever convincing enough to make me second-guess my need to wash up. Today was just too much to take. Besides the fecal outhouse odor, it was a spicy salsa smell, exacerbated by a ferrous reek of blood. Someone who had used that restroom before me needs to be in a doctor’s care. Now, I’ve let a few go that didn’t smell like roses. And I’ve been around Jah Jeff and know some people have demons in their lower GI. That doesn’t matter. If you are going to pour all the angels of hell and their ever-burning sulfur unconsumed out your ass…. Please don’t use the men’s room at work.

Yesterday for no reason whatsoever Jah Jeff went totally insane and started throwin’ down his sick sk8ing skillz. No one saw it coming, but I captured a few of his wicky-wickiest moves for posterity. Right click the thumbnails and ’save as’ to view.

FS 180 to nose manual (1.92 mb)	Superflip to manual to kickflip to 180 kickflip varial (3.13 mb)	50 50 drainpipe grind (1.93 mb)
FS wallride to BS 180 wallride (1.55 mb)	Ollie 5-stair (3.72 mb)

Sadly Jah Jeff spent most of the day trying to land a 900, but called it quits when his 8 degree nearly crippled the neighbor’s cat.

In a daring career move, dauntless star of stage and screen Steve Martin recently lended his expertise to the camera for several minutes during the filming of Disney’s “Bringing Down the House.” The cameo is one of several Martin has performed recently, appearing on TV’s Saturday Night Live, the 75th Annual Oscar Awards and the Troop 371 Pinewood Derby Ribbon Ceremony. Billy would have won, except he glued tiny weights in the front of his pinewood racer, thereby disqualifying him and his cheater-car.

I saw a bunch of Novocaine DVDs in a disoriented pile of mainly B-movies about a week ago…I guess that’s where this Steve Martin crap is coming from. Almost every one of the other bargain DVDs had Dolph Lundgren in it. There were also a bunch of “Kissing a Fool” copies for like 5 bucks, which ticked me off. So I hid them at the bottom of the pile, hoping to God that I’d just created a DVD time capsule by which only humanoids in the year 3058 will be as shocked as I at their inclusion in this subpar motion picture bargain bin.

I need to lie down.

Editor’s note: This post was to originally appear March 19th, 2003.

I’d just like to say, on the behalf of everyone here at Dank, that it is with a very heavy heart that we continue to do our work, as our thoughts are undoubtedly elsewhere. It has become clear to us that while posting articles on the internet about the Olsen Twins, characters from the animated children’s show Doug, and a dim-witted man from Oakland who likes the “woo-woo” has importance, our trade is somehow less important in light of the events occurring in Iraq. While the pressure to come up with reasonably well-written, satirical, and dare I say occasionally humorous posts is immense, it somehow pales in comparison to the pressure our soldiers must be feeling right now, a world away. As for us at Dank, we are going to continue to do what it is we do, as it is our duty, and the duty of every American, to carry on with our way of life. But, believe us when we tell you that it won’t be easy. Our only hope is that Dank can provide some form of escape, all be it brief and inconsequential, from the harsh realities of the events taking place in the Gulf. Thank you for your patience, and your understanding. And may God bless America…

Ok, so I write the above disclaimer not to be insensitive about the war, because, believe me when I tell you, I have a great deal of concern for our soldiers as well as the general population of Iraq, but rather to point out just how hopelessly retarded said disclaimers are. This morning, during my four-and-a-half hour commute to work, I had the displeasure of listening to three different sports radio hosts, including the always sensitive and delicate Jim Rome, deliver heartfelt disclaimers explaining how difficult it is for them to perform their jobs at a time like this. This may shock you, but they also all recently came to the realization that what they do, when compared to the death and devastation taking place “a world away,” is actually quite trivial. Holy shit, you have to be kidding me!! I always thought that determining if the Lakers are now the “team to beat in the NBA,” who would win the East regional, and whether or not Allen Iverson is a good role model were pretty much the key issues of our times.

Look, everyone’s grand wake-up call to the triviality of our pop-culture already took place well over a year ago when the World Trade Center collapsed, and surprise-surprise, the shit that entertained us before 9/11 is the same shit that entertains us now. And here’s an even bigger surprise, it’s always been trivial, and probably always will be. So, I guess my question is, just what in the hell is wrong with that? Why in a time of military action or political unrest do we suddenly feel the need to call needless crap needless crap, and then apologize for it? Let’s either be proud of our superficiality and triviality and embrace it, or stop being superficial and trivial all the time.

I recently heard that the red carpet paparazzi entrance thing at the Oscars has been scrapped this year because so many stars were asking to be let in the back door to the Kodak Theater because, in these trying times, they just didn’t think the red carpet was appropriate or important. Oh. So then when exactly is it appropriate and important for someone to wear thousands of dollars worth of jewelry and clothing, do 15-second interviews with such talented people as Joan and Melissa Rivers, and have their picture taken countless times while people yell out, “Who are you wearing?! Who are you wearing?!!” The truth is that it’s always been asinine, it always will be asinine, and the fact that there’s a war going on doesn’t have a fucking thing to do with it.

Personally, I’m not watching the Oscars this year. One, because I was snubbed again, but more so, and I say this as a screenwriter, because I can’t bare to listen yet again to how what Hollywood does is really nothing compared to our troops, and yet somehow still really wonderful and important because of all the lives that movies touch. It’s apparently not enough for people in Hollywood to be filthy rich and famous and entertain America, they also have to feel that they’re important to our social well-being. Remember Tom Cruise’s Academy prepared speech at the top of the telecast last time? God knows that had I never seen Risky Business, the chances of me making it through this whole Iraq thing emotionally sound would be slim to none.

Oh, and one more thing. As long as I’m talking about the war (or was talking about it), what’s with this whole France thing? I saw a poll the other night on Bill O’Reilly saying that 90% of Americans favor a boycott on French goods because France doesn’t want to join our coalition. Of course this poll was typical Factor bullshit, but the actual scientific one done by ABC news nevertheless showed the number to be around 40%. Is it just me, or is that stupid? Our government asked France to go into war, they said no, and now I’m supposed to stop enjoying French wine? Well I don’t have any money anyway for French wine, but if I did I’d go down to the 7-ELEVEN or wherever one procures such things right now and get some. When did Americans suddenly become miffed 11-year-old girls? We invited France to back us in a WAR, not to a freak’n pajama party. So they don’t want war with Iraq, hell, neither does half the country. And furthermore, neither does probably 90% of Hollywood. But I’ll betcha anything Republicans and Democrats alike will still be tuning into the Oscars. Only this time it’ll be with a very heavy heart, because we’ll have no idea who those socially conscious, America-saving stars are wearing.

Is your life characterized by stress, low sex drive, and/or weight gain for no apparent reason? Are you a woman? Well if you just blurted “yes” to either of those questions, you could be a part of the epidemic some doctors claim 50,000,000 women could be diagnosed with: hurried woman syndrome. I’m really sorry that I watched the 45-second segment on the news about this, because I wish it was tomorrow at work when I’ll get to overhear one co-worker paraphrase the first few sentences of this paragraph to eight other co-workers sporadically throughout the day.

I’m sure H.W.S. comes on the heels of doctors revealing that 6 men in the U.S. are showing symptoms of Way Too Interested in This Week’s Third Watch Disease. Please don’t be sad that I didn’t provide a link to the Third Watch website (if there is one). I feel sorry for each byte it occupies. And hey, we’re on the brink of war here. Bandwidth can be melted and forged into bullets, not to mentioned rationed. Tom Ridge is going to be the jerk at the drinking fountain going, “1-2-3 that’s it!” I only hope I can search Yahoo for stolen Applebee’s recipes. That chicken is a so-called party on a plate.

You don’t need to hear much from me about this thing in Iraq. So this is relatively concise. I know how the U.S. never lies to its citizens, and would never think of subjecting its own people to harm, let alone try and succeed at the devastation and impoverishment of a large group of people…so I just want you to know that I completely trust and believe in you, U.S. Government, you bastion for the ages! You incessant guardian and protector of all that is good! Pardon my friends Sanctions Kill(ed) Millions in Iraq, Tuskeegee Experiment, and Treatment of Native Americans if they beg to differ.

Setting: Chicago, 2003. After spending the weekend together, F calls M at 11:55 p.m. on Sunday after her departure from him approximately a quarter hour earlier.

(phone rings)

M: Made it home safe, huh?
F: Yup. Traffic wasn’t too bad.
M: Yup. Hey..(cutoff)
F: I’m not very tired.
M: Yeah. You slept for most of the drive.
F: I know, I was there.
M: Right. So…
F: The area between my fingers is really dry. I have some moisturizer though.
M: I want to go.
F: What’s that?
M: I said it sounds like you’re on top of things…with the moisturizer or whatever.
F: Yup.
M: I have to wake up early tomorrow.
F: You better not stay up too late tonight.
M: I’m not planning to.
F: Good.
M: So I’ll talk to you tomorrow.
F: Yup, hey what do you have going on during the day?
M: Classes mostly. (aside) Catching up on all my burglarized sleep.
F: My day shouldn’t be too busy…let’s see.
F: Hmmm.
F: That’s odd.
M: What? What is odd?
F: Why are you all acting angry?
M: That’s what’s odd?
F: It’s not what was originally odd, but it is odd.
M: That’s queer.
F: You know I don’t like that word.
M: I’m sorry…I’m exhausted.
F: It’s alright. I’ll call you during your only break between classes tomorrow to tell you what I’m doing.
M: Sounds good. I love you.
F: Love you. Night!

(hangs up phone)

I visited the links Jerome posted below, and after doing so it occurred to me that those 3 or 4 sites were the first 3 or 4 non-pornographic or Chicago sports related sites (excluding Dank) that I’ve ventured to in 2003. At first this filled me with concern. But then I thought, fuck concern, I have a better seven-letter emotion to explore– inquiry.

See, I got to thinking, is it possible to combine what I love about porn and Chicago sports into one ultimate site? I thought about this briefly and came to the rather levelheaded answer of “no”. The main problem is that I, and I assume most guys, usually think about sports when they don’t want to be aroused. I.e., you’re at a family picnic in a three-legged race with your aunt when you suddenly realize she has really nice tits, and it occurs to you that that realization just won’t do. So you concentrate really hard on the actual race at hand and end up dragging her and her double D-cups across the finish line to victory. You become the Flo-Jo of three-legged racing simply because you’re trying to stave-off a boner. (Come to think of it, looking at Flo-Jo’s legs, she may have used the same motivation.)

Anyway, my point is that while at first the idea of combining loves seems wonderful, it rarely works in actual practice. George Costanza once tried to combine his two greatest loves, food and sex (and no, not whipped cream, but pastrami) and for the most part it flopped. Oddly, it seems to me that combining something you love with something you hate ends up proving much more beneficial. Utilizing the topics at hand, I offer the following examples: 

Internet Porn (love) and Credit Card Charges (hate)
Opening Day Tickets to Wrigley and Waiting in Line
George Costanza and Failed Attempts at Achieving Pleasure
The Death of Moderately Well-Known Celebrities and Flo-Jo
And, if you happen to be Jah Jeff:
Sex and Proper Bathing Habits

Maybe my actual point is that everything good has a trade-off, and very few things, even the things we love, make for ideal tandems with more than a few items or activities. In fact, the only notable exception I can think of offhand is beer, which, remarkably, seems to make everything better, including Chicago sports, sex, credit card charges, watching the Olympics, the death of a female athlete, waiting in line, and last but not least, Jah Jeff. (Though, Dave would argue that beer consumed by Jah Jeff in no way improves him. I guess it’s really more of a drinker/drinkie perspective issue.)

In retrospect, I suppose I really don’t have a point worth posting about at all. Maybe I just wanted to write something with a pretentious Latin title. Or, possibly, I wanted to see the proper noun “Flo-Jo” on Dank. Either way, I do know I’m ‘spose to be up cook’n breakfast for someone in the mo-n’n, so I better get to bed. If only I had some sort of mobile, whistling alarm clock…

I guess it makes sense. USA Basketball and the NBA are making a boatload off of product licensing for the 2004 Olympics, and current players want a share of the mayonnaise jar buried somewhere on Jerry Krause’s person. Anyway, your childhood idol and mine (not to mention former Hardee’s spokesman), Karl Malone, is conspicuously upset about the whole thing. He has taken issue with the contract Team USA players have been asked to sign in order to play.

from espn:

“Somebody needs to get you a contract and you will see. If a man off the street just looks at that contract, they will say, ‘Damn.’ You give them access to your whole life, and they are not giving you access to nothing but the chance to play on the team. We feel we are doing them a favor as well.”

Malone said he is particularly troubled by the drug policy. “Once I sign on that dotted line, I tell them, ‘I’m yours for two years no matter what,’ ” Malone said. “There is a statement in the anti-drug policy, that in the summer, everywhere I go, I have to call them and tell them where I’m at.

“Whereever I’m at, they can show up and say, here piss in this cup. I can be logging in Arkansas, they show up and find me, I got to piss in a cup, no questions asked. Right then. That’s pretty strong. My wife sometimes don’t even know where I’m at.”

I bet John Stockton knows, if you know what I mean. Goodday.

In the process of reformatting all of the archives, I noticed a dangerous trend. It’s apparantly mandatory for Dank to cover all of the worst pointless internet obsessions that occur. This may or may not stem for our need to fit into the world of terrible e/n sites created and maintained by no-talent hacks.

That painful reality being said, it’s time for Bubb Rubb to step into the spotlight. If you haven’t seen the video, go no further. Needless to say, it’s an instant classic in the vein of internet dork crazes like All Your Base, no version of which I will link as a personal favor to everyone who has eyes and ears.

It appears through all this, ol’ Bubb Rubb has become quite “famous” amongst the citizens of the internet who have grown tired of Cliche Kitty and Domo Kun. Amongst the debris, I came upon this gem, as well as a host of other nonsense.

As for the object of Bubb’s affections, the whistle tips been banned. Fortunately for Bubb though, it was all about da WOO WOOOO!!!