I wrote a guest post over at SportsBubbler.com today – go check it out.  I hadn’t planned on talking about Brett Favre, but the circumstances warranted comment.  It’s pretty long, but hopefully worth the time.

On Saturday night, the wife and I took a rare opportunity out of the house together to see “(500) Days of Summer,” a movie that’s gotten pretty good reviews.  It’s actually much better than I expected – but at one point I yelped loudly, as the movie killed one of my go-to jokes.

At one point in the movie, the main character (played really well by Gordon Joseph Levitt) looks to his little sister for advice on how to keep his girlfriend.  And his sister warns that his girlfriend will probably leave him for “a guy with a face like Brad Pitt and Jesus abs.”

As it turns out, when I’m in church, I often look at Jesus on the crucifix and wonder how he got such a six-pack.  And when I tell people this, it tends to get a few chuckles.  I have a whole bit about how I’m thinking of going on the Home Shopping Network and selling the Jesus workout video and such.  In fact, just one week ago I regaled my softball team with the whole schtick. It was a reliable go-to bit.  Maybe not riotously clever, but subversive enough to garner some nervous laughter.

And now, it has to be retired forever because of that stupid movie.  People will think I just stole it.  From now on, any jokes I think of, I will have notarized, just so people will believe me.  And I will carry this piece of paper around in my wallet, right next to my picture of Mary Lou Retton.

(Note to self – get the Mary Lou Retton joke notarized.)

As if that weren’t enough, the movie also features a Smith song that I JUST LAST WEEK linked to on Twitter. (Do yourself a favor and watch it here.) Granted, laboratory tests have proven it to be their best song, so it makes sense that the writers would use it.  But the coincidences are starting to pile up.  Now people will even have trouble believing that I came up with the whole idea of setting the move “Titanic” on a boat.

Anyway, for my own selfish benefit, I hope you don’t go see the movie.  But it is pretty good.  Here’s the trailer:

(Hollywood, CA) In a revelation that further complicates the settling of singer Michael Jackson’s $500 million estate, a 26 year old Detroit man has stepped forward claiming to be the love child of the deceased King of Pop and Billie Jean Grabowski of Gary, IN.

Over the years, Jackson has made repeated denials of his paternity, often to the beat of a distinctive and funky bass line.

Those closest to Jackson remembered how they frequently warned him about getting mixed up with obsessed fans.

“I always told him, ‘Be careful what you do, don’t go around breaking young girls’ hearts,’ ” said Quincy Jones, who produced Jackson’s album Thriller. 

Jackson’s son has fond memories of his mother, who he described as a beauty queen from a movie scene, but he wishes he could have spent more of his childhood with his dad.

“It’s the father-son stuff we never got to do together that I regret the most,” said Jackson’s son. “You know, like us playing catch and him dangling me over balconies, that sort of thing.”

I’m the guest blogger for the day over at SportsBubbler.com.  Send me funny links and I’ll post them over there.

As a society, we have all sort of cultural touchstones that we use to explain how something is extreme.  Generally, there are words or terms that immediately describe how something is the best, worst, biggest, etc.

For instance, when someone deigns something the most evil thing in the world, they call upon the thing we all agree is the representation of all that is vile: Hitler.  You may hear people say things like, “that woman behind the counter at the DMV was like Hitler,” or “only Hitler would oppose gay marriage,” or the very popular, “dude, your balls smell like Hitler.”

One of these cultural touchstones we have is McDonald’s.  Generally, we use Mickey D’s when we’re trying to describe the shittiest job imaginable.  Parents across the world warn their children that if they underachieve, start drugs, or get pregnant at a young age, they will suffer the most degrading fate possible – having to work at McDonald’s.  It’s the one universal concept in the world – even kids in Bangladesh behave themselves for fear of having to one day fry burgers at the Golden Arches.

And that’s why I think McDonald’s employees deserve more credit.  They make crap money, and they have the one job that everyone universally agrees is the worst imaginable job in the world.  They slave over hot grease and have all these food Hitlers trying to convince people that the burgers they make are a secret plot to kill minorities.  (See what I did there?)

And I don’t even know how McDonald’s ended up in the crosshairs.  The Big Mac is like a piece of celery compared to the euthanasia burgers they serve at Burger King.  In 34 states, it’s illegal to carry a concealed Taco Bell grilled stuf’t burrito.  But for some reason, it just seems that people have it out for McDonald’s and that’s that.

So I salute you, Golden Arches employees.  Sometimes, you even get my order right.  You deserve more than the universal scorn of the world.  You keep the economy moving, you pay your taxes, and your extra large straws make the Coke taste even better.

And as long as we’re at it, I propose ditching all of these words that people have grown accustomed to using to make a point.  Like when people say things are selling like “hotcakes.”  I have yet to see any instance where there was a shortage of hotcakes due to their overwhelming popularity.

Also, I take offense when people say a woman is “as fat as a cow.”  In actuality, cows really aren’t that fat – if they were, they wouldn’t turn into such delicious steaks.  In the future, when you want to insult a woman, please pick a much fattier animal that will be equally as hurtful to her self image.

As I’ve mentioned a few times on this blog, I play in a Monday night golf league.  (I would mention what place I’m in, but let’s just say I don’t want to jinx it.)

On the seventh hole of the course where we play, a family of foxes live.  And when we congregate after our rounds to drink beers, someone inevitably has a story about the foxes – 90 percent of which are apocryphal.  It’s always like, “man, one of the foxes ran off with my ball,” or “my ball went into a fox hole,” or “one of the foxes cooked me up a hamburger,” or some such nonsense.  80% of them are good stories, most of them are 100% false.

But this week, we had a guy walk up to his ball, only to see one of the foxes hovering over it.  After a few seconds over the ball, the fox quickly ran off.  (Presumably, it wanted to catch some of the Sotomayor hearings.)

When he walked up to his ball, the guy saw this horrific sight, and took the following picture.

Yes indeed, the fox dropped a deuce on his ball.  Well not ON, but close enough.  Apparently, he was allowed to take an unplayable lie.

And as it turns out, given my score, I did the same thing on the course that the fox did.  Only metaphorically.

The brand spankin’ new edition of WI Magazine has been released.  My column closes out this edition – it’s called “Bring on the Stat Nerds.”

For a small fee, I will come to your house and read it to you.

He may have just earned my vote.

On this edition of the podcast, I talk to Wisconsin girl Trenni Kusnierek of the MLB Network about Michael Jackson, ShamWow, men’s hair coloring products, whether it’s news if athletes cheat on their wives, what the most aerodynamic sausage is, and why Leslie Visser is the Mother Theresa of sports reporting.

A quick note – as I mention in the podcast, I still can’t seem to figure out my stupid recording program.  So there’s a small lag between our conversations, and a bit of an echo on her end for the first half of the interview.  But don’t let it dissuade you – it’s not that big of a deal.  And I promise I’ll have it worked out by the time I interview my next WORLDWIDE celebrity.  (Probably President Obama at this pace.)

Enjoy, and have a listen here:

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(If you want to download it, right click here.)

I know I spend a lot of time apologizing for not posting, but I got deathly ill at Wrigley Field on Sunday, and haven’t eaten solid food since.  The way the Brewers played certainly didn’t help.

The good news is, I am scheduled to do a podcast this evening with a WORLD FAMOUS guest.  Should be a good one, so make sure you tune in later.

People who know me well know my affinity for crazy people who run for political office.  Thus, I was excited to be introduced to Montana crazyperson Bob Kelleher, who last year ran for U.S. Senate as a Republican against Democrat Senator Max Baucus.

Listen to Kelleher’s radio ad regarding abortion – and let it wash over you with awesomeness:

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Did he just mispronounce “fellatio?”

And here’s an example of Kelleher’s strong television presence:

And, in fact, Kelleher even had folk song written in his honor and featured in this bizarre web ad, which stars people with giant eyebrows photoshopped on to their heads:

God Speed, Bob Kelleher.

In the wake of Michael Jackson’s death, I had forgotten that one of my favorite singers, David Mead, actually included a version of Jackson’s “Human Nature” on his album “Indiana.”  Give it a listen here:

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Also, a music competition that bills itself as the “world’s largest grassroots music awards” is holding its voting online right now.  One of the finalists in the polka category is Toni Blum Seitz (wife of politics guy Bob Seitz), for her album “Yodels from Swissconsin.”  You can go online here and vote for her.  Apparently, you need to enter her e-mail address to list her as a referrer, which is toniseitz@dishmail.net.

There are plenty of wonderful “old guy” things technology is obliterating.  For instance, back in the day I had mastered the art of the mix tape.  You’d go get a blank tape, pull out all your CDs, and spend hours recording just the right mix that you just knew was going to make a specific girl instantly fall in love with you.  Or, at the very least, give you a little awkward over the shirt action.

The rules for mix tapes were varied.  Nothing too scary, nothing too wussy.  In his book “High Fidelity,” author Nick Hornby laid out some of the guidelines:

“You’ve got to kick off with a corker, to hold the attention, and then you’ve got to up it a notch, or cool it a notch, and you can’t have white music and black music together, unless the white music sounds like black music, and you can’t have two tracks by the same artist side by side, unless you’ve done the whole thing in pairs, and… oh, there are loads of rules.”

In any event, I probably made a hundred mix tapes in my day.  Each delicately suited to whatever girl would eventually never speak to me again once receiving the tape.  But these days, there are no tapes.  And CDs are just about extinct.  So how do horny boys try to lure the ladies?  How do you get a girl to listen to a song that you’re absolutely sure is going to make her understand the turmoil in your heart (and pants?)

I think I have the answer.

Dear reader, in order to thank you for coming to this blog and to show my appreciation, I have made you a mix tape and put it here on the blog.  This is someone therapeutic for me, as I love combing through my music collection and crafting just the right playlist.  Hopefully, after listening to this first one, you’ll hop on your bike and we’ll ride together down to Open Pantry and share an Icee.

If there were a general theme for this first one, it would be singer/songwriter type stuff, since that just happened to be what I started picking out at random.  And I even kept it to the usual 74 minute CD length, too.

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(To download the full file, subscribe to the podcast on the left, of right click here and choose “Save As…”)

Listen here, then e-mail me to tell me when you’re available to make out.

1. You Should Know So Well – Sondre Lerche
2. Beard of Bees – Clem Snide
3. Kind/ Brutal – The Heligoats
4. Finch On Sunday – Horse Feathers
5. If You Go – The Explorers Club
6. Put A Penny In The Slot – Fionn Regan
7. Streetlights – Josh Rouse
8. In the Bathroom – Trouser
9. Furr – Blitzen Trapper
10. Remember – Figurines
11. Jesus The Mexican Boy – Iron & Wine
12. Cursed Sleep – Bonnie “Prince” Billy
13. In Brilliance – Hutch And Kathy
14. Let’s Get Out Of This Country – Camera Obscura
15. I Am John – Loney, Dear
16. 3 Rounds and a Sound – Blind Pilot
17. Happiness – Elliott Smith
18. Sweet Sunshine – David Mead
19. Bookworm – Margot & The Nuclear So & So’s

I’m no fan of bachelor parties.  I wasn’t even into them all that much when I was single and it was more socially permissible to be in a strip club.  This largely stems from the trauma I suffered from going to my uncle’s bachelor party in Vegas when I was 23, while my dad was there.  We were equally as uncomforable – and I had to pretend like I never set foot in such an institution in my life:

“MY GOODNESS, WHAT IS THIS MYSTERIOUS PLACE?  MA’AM, ARE YOU AWARE THAT YOU ARE NOT WEARING A SHIRT? YOU COULD CATCH A COLD, YOUNG LADY!”

In any event, my sister in law is getting married this weekend, and I was invited to come to my future brother in law’s bachelor party.  Some bowling, the Madison Mallards baseball game, and chicanery after that.

It only took a few minutes for me to realize that bachelor parties aren’t quite what they were in the old days.  They have been altered irrevocably by technology, and for the worse.  I am talking, of course, about the prevalence of cell phones.

Now, when you go out to a bachelor party, every guy has a camera phone and text messaging ability.  This changes everything.  Back in the day, it was always understood that whatever happened at a bachelor party stayed between the attendees.  No more.

Now, any time anything of note happens, guys are either taking pictures or texting details to their girlfriends.  Even worse are the married guys (me included) who don’t give a crap, so they’re drunkenly willing to share details with the world within seconds.

For instance, I left the party at about 9:30 on Saturday night (we had been going since 1:00 that afternoon, so I thought I had put in some solid time.)  On the way to finding a cab, I ran into the bachelorette party, who happened to be out downtown at the same time.  I was peppered with questions about what had gone on:

“I heard someone got thrown into Lake Mendota.”  (Indeed, they had.)

“Why did you make the groom wear that giant yellow foam rubber cowboy hat at the baseball game?”  (Indeed, we had.)

And so on and so forth.

So here’s a lesson to those of you who have tricked some crazy woman into marrying you.  When you have your bachelor party, all the phones go in a box – not to be touched by their owners until the party is over.  No pictures, no texting, no tweeting, no phone calls.  They all must be incommunicado for the entirety of the event.  And as a thank you for this tip, you must also invite me.

As a side note, one of the attendees at the bachelor party covers the Twins for the Minneapolis Star Tribune.  He actually wrote about his experience at Warner Park on his blog here.  He also happens to be a super cool dude, despite having to cover the Twinkies.

For months, people around Wisconsin have been anticipating the opening of the summer blockbuster “Public Enemies.” A large chunk of the movie was shot here in the Dairy State, and our tax dollars subsidized filming it to the tune of about $5 million.

Seeing as how I work for a full service free market think tank, I used this specious connection to go see the movie to determine whether it was tax money well spent. I feel I am doing a public service to the taxpayers to report on the fruits of their generosity (and, I admit, I was excited to see if I knew anyone in the movie, and I have an unnatural man-crush on Christian Bale.)

I was actually surprised that they made me pay for a ticket, seeing as how my tax money has made me a co-producer of this film. In fact, I’m still waiting for my director’s chair and bullhorn, and anticipate they will show up at my house any day now.

So here’s the quick synopsis of the movie:

It’s bad. Really, really bad. Closing in on awful.

It is apparent that about 20 bucks of our $5 million was spent on a script. The movie meanders along, without any interesting dialogue or insight. At 2 hours, 15 minutes, it’s about 45 minutes too long. Johnny Depp, who plays John Dillinger, seems almost to be embarrassed to be in the movie at all. Characters talk to each other with canned speeches that don’t even approach plausibility. By the time the inevitable end came, I had checked my watch about 10 times.

Perhaps the most grating aspect of the movie is Oscar winning French actress Marion Cotillard, who’s about 15% as hot as an actress that should be playing that role. Even worse is her attempt to speak English without a heavy French accent. It comes and goes, which is interesting, considering she’s playing a character who’s half Indian and who grew up in Wisconsin.

In fact, isn’t there a big movement up at the Capitol to prevent the state from contracting with foreigners for government business? There were a hundred American actresses that could have played that part – we should crack down on the OUTSOURCING OF OUR HOT ACTRESSES! (Holding hand over heart while the Star Spangled Banner plays in the background.)

For me, the only cool parts of the movie were the ones that took place in the Capitol, where I worked for 8 years. I immediately picked out the North Hearing Room, where a lot of the partisan caucuses used to take place. And I got the chills when the characters walk around the inside the Capitol.

I certainly don’t mean to dissuade anyone in Wisconsin from going to see the movie, especially if you recognize some of the sets in Columbus, Oshkosh and elsewhere. But it really is a crushing disappointment. I am amazed that big budget movies this bad can actually get made.  But who cares if Wisconsin taxpayers are out $5 million for a terrible movie?  SOME PEOPLE GOT TO WAVE TO JOHNNY DEPP!

In fact, conservatives have an opportunity here – if government-subsidized movies are this bad, imagine how bad government health care will be.  If people draw the connection, single-payer government health plans will be dead within a week.

In this most recent budget, Governor Doyle scaled back the film tax credit to $500,000. It’s a good thing for supporters of the credit that he did so before seeing “Public Enemies.” If had seen the movie in advance, he may have actually started charging movies to film here.

Perhaps most importantly, why didn’t anyone tell me that this guy from “Dazed and Confused” was in Wisconsin filming the movie?