QUIZ: The most entertaining part of the following story is:

A)  The man’s name is “Drunkwine;”

B)  The song in question is Dio’s “Holy Diver;”

C)  The assault took place on one of the most historic nights in our nation’s history, apparently unbeknownst to the patrons of Emma’s Bar.

Beaten Over Karaoke Performance

Cops: Wisconsin man battered singer over lousy heavy metal cover

NOVEMBER 12–Meet Kyle Drinkwine. The Wisconsin man, 24, allegedly became so incensed by a lackluster karaoke performance of a heavy metal song that he assaulted the singer and a second man, police charge. According to a River Falls Police Department report, Drinkwine throttled singer James Mischler, 28, and his friend Cyrus Kozub, 29, “over one’s ability to sing karaoke.” Though cops did not specify which song set Drinkwine off last week, Kozub told TSG that Mischler was performing “Holy Diver,” the title cut on Dio’s 1983 debut album (the band is fronted by Ronnie James Dio, the former Black Sabbath lead singer). Following the assaults, police apprehended Drinkwine after a short foot chase. A subsequent Breathalyzer test recorded his blood alcohol content at .169, more than twice the state limit. Drinkwine was booked into the Pierce County Jail on battery and disorderly conduct counts.

Hear “Holy Diver” here:

You can clearly see how one would be enraged by a substandard performance of such a classic.

In the wake of the strong showing by Democrats last week, conservatives have been writing volumes about what went wrong and how to fix it.  The best one so far has been this Weekly Standard column by P.J. O’Rourke.

I have this weird habit of buying books I’ve already read.  Usually, I get a book for free from the library, read half of it, and decide whether I like it or not.  In a lot of cases, I want to highlight things for reference, just so I can come back to them later – but I can’t if it’s a library book.  So I go to the used book store to get a deal on a book that I’ve either half read or completely read.  Plus, it’s nice to have a visual reminder of what books I may have read in any given year.  Makes me feel smarter.

And for some reason, I just love used books stores – I can’t explain it, but I just like looking at books.  I look at the bindings on the shelves and try to think of how publishers try to get their authors to stand out on the shelves amongst thousands of other titles.  Then maybe if I ever get off my ass and write a book, I’ll know how it should look to trick people into buying it – as they sure as hell won’t be buying it because of what might be written in it.  I could probably bind each one of my books with a live $100 bill and still only sell about 18 of them.  I digress.

So last week I saw a book I wanted and bought it – and I’m really enjoying it quite a bit.  But as I got near the end, I realized there was a plane boarding ticket stub jammed in the back.  It’s from a flight from Chicago O’Hare to Tokyo in July of last year.  And it’s a “Premiere Executive” first class ticket, so I figured the woman whose name is on the ticket is kind of a bigshot.  So I admit, I googled her, and as it turns out, she’s a high ranking executive at a major health care company.  So yeah, big-time.

And I can’t explain this in any rational way – but I kind of feel like I now have some odd connection to this woman.  Just months ago, she was holding this book and reading the same words on the same page that I was.  And since it’s such a good book, I kind of almost want to know what she thought of it.  We now have a shared experience, even though we’ll never meet each other in person.

So all day, it’s been kind of puzzling me why I feel like this woman and I are connected, and I came up with the following:  In the days of everything being on computers and virtually all of our interpersonal relationships taking place online, we have fewer chances to share experiences with our friends.  I can literally go through the entire day reading only the news I want, listening to the music I want, and e-mailing the people I feel like talking to.  As a result, few people I know are fluent in the exact set of things I like to talk about.  (This generally means I have different sets of friends for different topics – I have my lefty music friends and righty politics friends.  One night the two groups bumped into each other and I thought the earth was going to fall off its axis.)  But now here’s this woman who has read the very same book that I have – a book that I’ve found deeply interesting.

Of course, this is all psycho-jibberish.  If I called this woman and tried to explain this to her, I imagine the cops would be at my house before I could hang up.  But it’s really interesting to me to think about who might have owned a book before me.  It’s even weirder when you actually figure out who that person is.  Somewhere, the very words you’re reading on that page are floating around in the head of someone else, perhaps in an entirely different context.  The lesson that can be learned here is very important:  I need some better weed.

I love my job.  I get to write pretty much whatever I want, and I get paid for it.  (The fact that I get paid in McDonald’s Monopoly game pieces doesn’t bother me much.)

I have, however, found the greatest writing job ever.  I want to be the guy that writes the little show descriptions for TiVo.  Specifically, I want to be the guy that writes the little show descriptions for all the nudie movies for TiVo.

Here’s how it works – if you have DirecTV or TiVo or whatever, you can click a button to get info on a show.  Generally, what follows is a little one sentence blurb that tells you what the movie is about.  For instance, “Saving Private Ryan” is on tonight, and the blurb is, “A World War II captain (Tom Hanks) and his squad (Edward Burns, Tom Sizemore) risk all to locate and send home a soldier whose three brothers died in combat.”  Simple, to the point.

But what I didn’t realize is that the guy who writes these little summaries actually has to write them for all the sleazy adult films, too.  And while I don’t actually get any of these channels (Playboy, Hustler, Juicy, Fresh, Sexx, etc.) I just realized that you can view the informational blurbs on the directory.  And I haven’t laughed this hard in a long time.

Just keep in mind what someone has to do to write one of these summaries – you have to actually watch the movie, boil the plot down in one sentence (my guess is one sentence is giving these movies WAY too much credit), and write about it in a way that is completely distinct from all the other nudie movies on these channels.  Which has to be impossible, because they’re all the same movie, presumably.

So, to get an idea of what I mean, here are a few of these Oscar winning movies showing tonight on these various channels, with their descriptions:

Show: M.I.L.F.s in Heat 2

Description: Undersexed soccer moms (Chelsea, Victoria) are filmed getting their sexual appetites sated.

Ed. note:  What is the big MILF attraction?  How do they prove these women are mothers?  Do they bring a copy of their kids’ birth certificates to the set to really heat things up?  And what are the chances anyone who orders this movie has ever used the word “sated” in a sentence?

Show: Nurseholes 2

Description: Women in white prepare for stiff injections.

Ed. Note: Some guy went to college for four years to learn to write this stuff.

Show: International Slut Cravings 9

Description: European women with amazing carnal skills showcase sex too hot for American girls.

Ed. Note: Didn’t they settle this conflict with Europe at the Yalta conference?

Show: All Girl MILF Munch

Description: Sexy suburban housewives become friendly with each other.

Ed. Note: Again with the MILFS.  How does it make it hotter that these women have been to a hospital and given birth?  Is there a niche for men who like women that have had appendectomies?

Show: Ebony Assets Redux

Description: Black beauties (Roxy Reynolds, Ruby, Mone Divine) prepare for hard-core gonzo action.

Ed. Note: Whatever step forward Barack Obama’s election was for race relations, this film alone just erased it.

Show: Gang Bang 6

Description: Annette Schwarz, Bobbi Starr, Joe Blow.  Two daring sluts and 19 men gather for a raunchy good time.

Ed. Note: 19?  Are they sure?  Was someone keeping count?  Is some guy only going to tune in if there are more than 18?

Show: Asian Fever Tokyo Girls

Description: Young and curious, these exotic beauties want to show American tourists a good time.

Ed. Note: Do you even bother with the subtitles on something like this?

Show: Backside Bangin’ 7

Description: It is booty vision for some slutty beauties with serious backside bouncing.

Ed. Note: Isn’t this the seventh installment of Lord of the Rings?

And it goes on and on from there.  Most of the other descriptions and some of the titles I can’t even write without breaking some kind of decency law (But be sure to catch “Ghetto Hot Chocolate” and “Monstrous Black Meat 2″).

UPDATE:  The full DirecTV schedule can be seen here.  Check out channels between 594 and 600.  And yes, I am 10 years old.

Pretty much every time I’ve ventured into the dentist’s office for the past 30 years or so, I’ve gotten the same speech about brushing more.  But when I went in for my cleaning today, I got the exact opposite – the hygienist told me I’ve actually been brushing too much.

After looking at my gums, she asked me if I was an “aggressive brusher.”  But she said it in a way that seemed as if there were a subtext to her accusation – as if brushing your teeth vigorously was a sign of latent anger issues.  She said that my gums were very irritated and starting to recede, although there wasn’t any sign of any periodontal disease or anything – so once again, she sharply asked me if I was an aggressive brusher: as if I’m an angry man who wakes up every morning intent on taking out my frustration with the world on my gums.  It seemed like I was being investigated for a murder or something, with the bright light shining in my face and all.  I’m not sure if the Constitution guarantees me the right to an attorney when being grilled by a dental hygienist.

At this point, I kind of threw my wife under the bus.  I told the hygienist that I had a toothbrush with unusually hard bristles.  She asked where I bought it.  I couldn’t tell her the truth – that I had bought it illegally on the “hard bristled toothbrush” black market along with a shipment of cop killer bullets, so I told her my wife bought it for me, and I didn’t know where.  Fortunately, I didn’t have my hand on the Bible when I said it.  Crisis averted.

Of course, it didn’t end there.  She went and ratted me out to the dentist, who then had to come check it out for himself.  It’s always concerning when a doctor looks at a part of your body and acts like he (or she) sees something they’ve never seen before.  Then he asked “are you an unusually aggressive brusher?”  I told him I had a brush with really hard bristles.  He glanced over at the hygienist, who shrugged, as if to say, “I couldn’t break him, either.”

Finally, they gave me a brush with soft bristles and sent me on my way – but not before I punched them both out.  Shows them for accusing me of being an angry brusher.

I have to admit, I have fallen in love with “This American Life,” which I have been watching on DVD.  I really enjoyed this piece on a politician that refuses to lie – even though he has plenty to lie about.

Get the latest Flash Player to see this player.

Remember how John McCain kept saying “I know how to get Bin Laden?”  Now that he’s not President, is he going to hang on to that little bit of info for the next few years?

I’m still a little groggy from last night, so I don’t have any long, erudite observations.  In fact, I am of two minds about the elections, and both of them are hung over.

In 2006, sensing the Democratic wave that eventually hit, I wrote this to make everyone feel better.  In sum, it says we shouldn’t let who happens to hold any office at any given time affect our happiness.  With Barack Obama as President, it’s not going to keep me from the joy of driving down University Avenue in Madison on a warm spring day.  It’s not going to make frozen custard any less delicious.  And having a Democratic Assembly isn’t going to stop me from crying during every freaking episode of “Friday Night Lights.”

So congratulations to the Democrats – but remember things are cyclical.  Enjoy this historic moment.  (Incidentally, I know this election was “historic” because all the cable news stations were telling me OVER and OVER and OVER and OVER.  Has there been any presidential election that wasn’t historic?  Are there textbooks that have holes in their timelines during the Chester A. Arthur years?)

Finally, here’s my column offering suggestions on how to reform the Republican Party.  I think it’s more relevant today than ever.

Today, I showed up at my usual polling place.  Same place I have voted in every election for the last seven years.  And when I mean every election, I mean every election.  As a former campaign manager, one of the first things we did to our opponents was to look them up and see how often they voted – if they never did, that was a good talking point against them.  So I was determined never to let that happen to me – I even voted in the September primary, when there was absolutely nothing on the ballot.

So imagine my surprise when I got to the table, only to find out my name was missing from the voter list.  I had been deleted.  And I admit, I was more than a little irritated.  The poor official there tried to explain to me how my name could go missing, but I wasn’t getting any good answers.  But I had to go over to the new registrant table and re-register, as if I had never voted before.  So, along with my name, I am certain my voter history data is gone, too.  All those years of voting, wiped away.

Now, I don’t know how this could have happened, or who is to blame.  But I have no problem putting it on the imbeciles at the Government Accountability Board, who have demonstrated their ineptitude at managing voter lists in a spectacular way.  Whatever list they set up for cross-checking municipal voter lists managed to weed out someone who has voted in every election from the same address for seven years.  So congrats to them.  As a taxpayer, I’ve paid $22 million for them to remove me and all my data from the rolls.

As it turns out, re-registering ended up not being that big of a deal.  But I don’t know when our state is going to wake up and realize that when it comes to voter lists, we’re essentially a banana republic.

This weekend, one of my lefty Facebook friends posted the following status message:

(NAME) is starting “Free Cindy McCain” – there’s no way John McC reserves his anger and contempt for outside the home.

That comment received an “lol” from a commenter.

So with a day left before the election, this is where we are – John McCain abuses his wife.  Something tells me if I had left a message insinuating Barack Obama beats his wife Michelle, it wouldn’t have elicited an “lol” from any of my friends.

Last week, I issued an empassioned post about how you shouldn’t judge things (like the Dave Matthews Band and Wal-Mart) by how obnoxious or undesirable their supporters are.  They can’t really help who their fans are, and it shouldn’t color how you feel about them personally.

In that vein, I have to say that I don’t necessarily see the world coming to an end when Obama is elected tomorrow.  He is clearly smart, composed, and able to inspire people to do things greater than themselves.  It’s just too bad he’s liberal – although Bill Clinton was elected with a democratic Congress, and we’re all still alive to speak about it, so I’m marginally optimistic.  It appears America is going to elect Obama because we want “change.”  Over the weekend, Dallas Cowboys fans were calling for “change,” and they ended up with Brooks Bollinger at quarterback.  Congrats – you got your change.  (Tying Obama to Bollinger might be more effective than tying him to Reverend Wright, given the way he played this weekend.)

Also, I’m not an idiot, so I obviously recognize the historic importance of what we’re about to do.  Electing a half-African American man as President isn’t something I ever thought I’d see in my lifetime, and it signals a great deal of progress.  (In fact, conservatives have been arguing this progress has been going on for a long time – ironically, it will take electing a liberal for people to finally realize it.)  Ironically, Obama himself represents the kind of hard work and upward mobility he claims is currently impossible in America.

The main problem I have with Obama’s ascendance is the effect it will have on his nutty supporters.  For the left wing fringe, Obama’s election will suddenly seem like a validation of all their crazy theories.  Take, for example, author Naomi Wolf, who believes America is undergoing a “fascist shift.”  Or the people who think George Bush had a hand in planning the 9/11 attacks.  Or those crazy Code Pink ladies.  Or any of the cesspool of dirtbags who post on the Democratic Underground, DailyKos, or wherever.  All of a sudden, these people will think they matter – and that the American public is 100% on board with whatever semi-lucid conspiracy theories they trot out.

If the US Senate can stay filibusterable (new word) and if Republicans can somehow retain control of the Wisconsin Assembly, the safeguards will be in place for at least a modicum of balance in government.  But there will be no limits to the newfound resolve handed to the lunatic fringe, who will expect President Obama to turn back every Bush era accomplishment (and there are few.)  One hopes that if Obama governs from the center, it will be these groups that turn on him first.

SIDE NOTE:  If it sounds like I’m predicting an Obama win, it’s because I am.  And if Obama loses, your house will be on fire anyway, so you’ll have more stuff to worry about than my crappy prediction.  Seek high ground immediately.

I really enjoyed the unusually warm weather over the weekend – especially on Friday, where it almost seemed like it was still late summer.

But of course, with such strange weather, there has to be a downside – as it appears there seemed to be a mass ladybug suicide outside my office door.  There were literally thousands of ladybugs dead on the ground, and a few ready to attack you as you walked out the door.  All day while sitting at my desk, I felt paranoid about a beetle crawling in my shirt.  Then again, that may have just been the meth.

Now, I realized Obama’s election is Biblical and all – but did he have to send the locusts so soon?  Shouldn’t he have waited at least until Wednesday?

State Representative Leah Vukmir has invited me to do some “live blogging” on her website on election night.  However, I plan on doing a great deal of “live drinking,” so I’m not sure how great of an idea that is.

But, assuming I’m coherent long enough, I will probably drop in from time to time, along with Owen Robinson, James Wigderson, and others.  There’s also an even money chance I get myself banned from the internet forever.

For parents of young kids, there’s only one thing more troubling than your kids being loud and obnoxious – your kids being really, really quiet.  It is during these quiet moments that they are plotting how best to tie you up while you sleep.

Today, I was watching football, and noticed that my kids (5 and 3) were out on the porch and not making a peep.  I went out to check on them, to see them with construction paper, scissors and markers making something.  When asking them what they were doing, I got this reply:

“Since you won’t let us have a puppy dog, we’re making one ourselves.”

As it turns out, they were creating a puppy out of an empty Diet Coke box.  Apparently, the sea monkeys we’re growing aren’t providing them with the companionship they crave.  They named the dog “Sarah.”  My daughter claims it’s not named after Sarah Palin, but that would be awfully coincidental, since we had a prolonged discussion about Palin just hours before this new Frankenstein puppy was created.

So, as a public service, I bring you Sarah the Diet Coke Box Puppy (complete with leash, dog tag, and paper bones):

Today, my daughter had her last fall soccer game.  Her team played against a team comprised of kids that seemed a lot younger than her.  As a result, her team would just take the ball straight down the field and score every time.  And the first few goals her team scored, they either celebrated by crawling on all fours back to the middle of the field or by doing this airplane dance where they ran around with their arms out, like they were gliding.

After watching this after about five goals, I finally had to call her over and tell her to knock it off.  I’ve played sports my whole life, and the last thing you want to do is to be a bad sport and embarrass the other team – especially when they’re all four year olds.  At some point, some adult had to show them how to celebrate like they’re playing for Brazil in the World Cup or something.  But, of course, I looked like the bad guy for trying to teach them how to win with class.  Just makes you wonder what ideas other adults are filling my kids’ heads with.

For some reason, my son has been going up to everyone he sees, asking them if they want to see him hop on one leg.  He hasn’t been turned down yet, and his one leg hopping is a real crowd pleaser.  It’s nice to see that he has his college pickup lines already as part of his arsenal.  Think about it – go up to a girl in a bar and ask her if she would like to see you hop on one leg.  Who is going to turn you down?  I just wish I had my son’s lines to use when I was a single guy.  But if I had lines that potent, he’d have a few more unwelcome brothers and sisters.