It's official...

Might as well...

What's a guy gotta do to get some peace and quiet?

It would be nice if I didn't have to go to that kind of extreme, but... uhhh... yeah... considering it...

So there I was, minding my own business as I was walking to the mini-mart, when the woman walking ahead of me unknowingly dropped her vagina on the sidewalk.

This was surprising for a number of reasons... foremost of which was her wearing a mini-skirt in the middle of winter. Granted, the weather has been getting warmer lately, but it's still cold enough that there's snow on the ground. This made the whole mini-skirt thing pretty bizarre. Though, in the woman's defense, she was wearing boots and a jacket.

Neither of which were providing warmth to her crotch, which is why her vagina apparently froze and fell off...

I was going to run up and tell her what happened, but I was too embarrassed.

Instead I carefully nudged it to the edge of the sidewalk with my foot so nobody would step in it. I figured eventually she's realize that something important had gone missing, then she'd retrace her steps to find her vagina there waiting for her.

A little colder, but no worse for wear.

I MEAN, SERIOUSLY! A MINI-SKIRT IN THE MIDDLE OF WINTER?!?

Though I suppose it could have been her work uniform. Maybe she's required to wear a mini-skirt as part of the dress code.

I wonder what kind of profession requires a mini-skirt dress code?

Be vewy vewy quiet...

Imitation is supposed to be the sincerest form of flattery.

But when it's a poor imitation, it's just insulting.

I created Lil' Dave and Bad Monkey "DaveToons" back in 2002 for my Hard Rock Cafe fan site "DaveCafe" (click here for the whole story). Since that time, they've appeared on my blog regularly, and have been printed on everything from shirts and hats to playing cards and bumper stickers. Here at my home in the Wenatchee Valley, they've been all around for years because I'm often giving T-Shirts away to my friends or donating them to events and such.

So I imagine it was only a matter of time before somebody decided to rip-off my characters to sell their crap. A year or so ago, somebody told me that a coffee stand had changed "Bad Monkey" to "Naughty Monkey" and made him as the mascot for their business...

Poor imitation on the left, original on the right
He's kind of been butchered here... the relocation of his nose is particularly disturbing

   
They even took the color of the shirt he was printed on!

The sad thing is that if the owners of the coffee stand had bothered to follow the copyright link on the shirt to my blog and emailed me, I might have given them permission to use my character and also do their artwork for them if they were nice! It's a small valley... we may even know the same people. Maybe we could have worked out a deal where they'd sell my shirts and I'd split the profits with them! I usually don't license out my art for commercial purposes... but, come on, a struggling independent local coffee company wanting to name their business after something you created? How cool is that?!?

But they didn't, and (assumably) ripped me off instead (I don't buy this as a coincidence). Then, surprise! IT'S KARMA, BITCH!

The reason I don't license my characters or give permission to use them for commercial purposes is simple. I don't make any money off my creations, so why should anybody else? I guess that doesn't stop people from taking them anyway. And, in this case, I guess justice was served.

At least until somebody else buys the business and re-opens it.

I love how ABC Television is promoting their new show The Deep End by saying "FROM THE NETWORK THAT BROUGHT YOU GREYS ANATOMY"... like that's some kind of ringing endorsement. ABC is also the network that brought us such steaming turds as Viva Laughlin and Cop Rock, as well as cancelling such brilliant shows as Pushing Daisies and Cupid (the Jeremy Piven Original... not the shitty remake). Hardly a track record that inspires confidence.

But whatever.

I should adopt this ridiculous qualification system for myself.

From now on, whenever I write a new blog post, I think I'll preface it with "FROM THE BLOGGER WHO BROUGHT YOU PENIS SALAD"...

Because about the only thing more disturbing than this blog would be finding a severed penis in your salad.

Or maybe finding Lindsay Lohan's abused crotch in your chocolate pudding...

Though right now I'd have to say NOTHING is worse than finding David Caruso on your television...

Except perhaps finding your airplane in the Hudson River...

Can you believe that happened a year ago? Seems like it was only yesterday.

Time sure flies when the world is in a tail-spin.

I am a long-time fan of Gumby. I had more than one Gumby doll when I was a kid, getting a new one when the old one had worn out from playing with him too much. I was equally a fan of Gumby's horse, Pokey. And even though I grew up, I never really outgrew the little green guy and his orange sidekick.

I have mini Gumby & Pokey dolls on my desk. I named the network printers at my office "Gumby" and "Pokey." I have a postcard of Gumby & Pokey stuck to my filing cabinet. I bought all the Bob Burden/Art adams Gumby comics. The icon for the hard disk on each of my Macs was traditionally Gumby (who moved from old computer to new computer, right up until I installed Mac OS X).

My love for all things Gumby will not die.

Which is why I was very sad to learn that Gumby's creator, Art Clokey, passed away yesterday.

For teaching me to use my imagination and giving me a lifetime of happy memories... rest in peace, Mr. Clokey.

If you're wanting to explore the freakishly bizarre world of Gumby, then you'll be happy to know that Hulu has a collection of cartoons available to watch for free! Prepare to get your mind blown (assuming you live in the USA, as Hulu doesn't seem to work elsewhere)...

Goodnight, Gumby!

It never ceases to amaze me how some people get such a bug up their ass when it comes to a glass of wine.

Too many times I've sat at the table with some self-professed wine connoisseur who has felt the need to bore the ever-loving shit out of everybody with their "expertise." They'll drone on and on about fruit notes and acidity. They'll wax poetic about earthy components and bold finishes. They'll be to the verge of orgasm as they describe puckery tannins and oaky bouquet. And, if you haven't lapsed into a coma when they've run out of wine buzzwords to throw at you, they'll delve into an oration on their favorite decanting techniques. It's a never-ending cavalcade of bullshit designed to make them look smart by pointing out how stupid you are because you don't give a flying fuck what "vinosity" means.

Don't get me wrong... I have nothing against people with a passion for wine who wants to discuss its intricacies and idiosyncrasies with other people who are equally inclined. But is it really necessary to force it on the rest of us? The only thing I care about in a wine is how many glasses it's going to take for me to get drunk...

A part of me wants to fight fire with fire.

What I'll do is study the hell out of some common dinner staple... like say... CORN. I'll learn everything there is to know about corn, and the next time some pompous oenophile decides to batter everybody with the depth of their wine knowledge, I'll hit back with some assholery of my own...

Wino: What a magnificent bottle! The muted tannins are fabulous, and those cherry notes exploding in my mouth are just to die for! And is that a hint of vanilla my sensitive palate is detecting? Why, yes... it is vanilla! Vanilla mixed with a touch of currant. Such sophisticated nuances here... and when you marry that to its dense body and throaty florals on the back end... it's just heaven. Heaven in a glass I say! And don't get me started on the texture! The glossy mouthfeel reminds me of a trip to Napa I took ba--
   
Dave: HAVE YOU TASTED THIS CORN?!? UN-FUCKING BELIEVABLE CORN HERE! It's sweeter than the butter they topped it with! There's also a toothy bite that makes my mouth sing... and don't get me started on those starches. This corn has starches so crisp and inviting that I'd swear my mouth has been wrapped in silk! And the color! I haven't seen a yellow this vibrant since that limited edition crop of Heirloom corn I had back in '98! I defy you to find a sexier yellow than this corn! Your piss isn't this beautiful a shade of yellow! Now, do you think this is Quincy corn or perhaps a Japanese import? If I were a betting man... AND I AM... I'd say this is some kind of organic hybrid. Perhaps using a new iteration of hydroponics-based therapy. Because this... this is some amazing shit right here. One thing's for certain... I'm ordering a second helping of this bad boy!

Well, it's either that or I start talking about Dungeons & Dragons.

Either way, I SHALL HAVE MY REVENGE!

Wow. I could really go for an ear of corn and a glass of wine right now.

ZOMFG! APPLE IS HOLDING A SPECIAL MEDIA EVENT ON JANUARY 27th!

For a Certified Apple Whore such as myself, this is the equivalent of getting a free 3-month supply of hookers with a case of Snack-Pack Chocolate Pudding on top. The question is... will His Holiness, Steve Jobs, be the one to run the event? Because that's the difference between your free hookers having all their teeth or not (admittedly, some guys find the idea of a toothless strumpet to be Prostitute Nirvana, but I assure you that I am not one of them).

Obviously, my preference would be for Mr. Jobs to descend from the heavens on a sun-beam, alight on that high pedestal upon which I place him, and unleash the new hotness that Apple has up their collective sleeves...

But, when push comes to shove, I'll reluctantly accept a Jobs substitution by Jonathan Ivy, Phil Schiller, or whatever other dentally-challenged whores they've got hanging around at Apple. In this case, it's not the messenger, it's the message that's important. Hell, Apple's new toy could be stuck in a pile of flaming dog shit and dropped on-stage by Dick Cheney riding a three-legged goat while masturbating to donkey porn... it just doesn't matter. If the "device" Apple is announcing is up to their usual awesome standards, nobody would notice.

The rumor mill is saying that the "device" is a tablet computer of some sort. Kind of like a giant iPhone... but with magical properties that have yet to be defined.

I'm putting my bets on no-smudge anti-gravity screen, nuclear battery with a 100-year charge, and a psychic brain-link interface. Pudding rack optional.

Either that, or the iToast is making its debut at last.