Verona – Pimpled area teen Josh Miller today expressed his support for the federal Family Planning Waiver program, which provides free birth control to all girls over the age of 15. \”My parents won\’t even let me watch Cinemax, so I\’ll be damned if I\’m going to blow it when a girl wants to come to my \’pants party,\’\” said Miller.

Miller has joined with other homely virgins in advocating for increased government-sponsored birth control. A group of horny teenage boys showed up at the Capitol this week to testify against a bill that would raise the minimum age for free taxpayer birth control for girls from 15 to 18. \”The State Legislature can\’t possibly understand the turmoil in my pants,\” said Alejandro Rivera, 15, of Mt. Horeb. \”It\’s hard enough to get a girl to charm my trouser snake as it is, without Glenn Grothman screwing things up,\” he said. Rivera said he hasn\’t been this disappointed since he witnessed the appalling lack of nudity in \”National Lampoon\’s Dorm Daze,\” appearing on Showtime this month.

Miller conceded that he thought he had a sexual experience when playing \”Tomb Raider\” on his XBox, but he wasn\’t sure. In his spare time, he enjoys thinking about sex, talking about sex, and coming up with new phrases to describe sex that he hopes will catch on in his high school. \”It\’s just a matter of time before \’pound the pootie\’ catches fire,\” said Miller.

Miller said his ultimate goal is to one day become an anonymous part time political blogger. \”Those guys get loads of tail,\” he said. Miller believes that one day he will be able to score a supermodel or a movie star, or if he\’s really lucky, a local TV anchor. As for now, he noted, he can\’t even score a tomboy who is secretly in love with him but who helps him try to get a date with a popular girl, only to have him eventually realize that he should have been with his tomboy friend all along. \”I think that was in a movie my parents liked,\” he said.

Miller said he believes he is close to finally losing his virginity, and the absence of burth control makes that nearly impossible. \”Tom McDuffie said I could borrow his van, and I\’ve got my \’Smooth Booty Jamz\’ mix CD all ready to go,\” said Miller. \”Now all I need is a fine lady with low self-esteem,\” he added.

Last week, I bemoaned the fact that a bunny rabbit had dug a giant hole and set up shop in my front yard. Well, as I was mowing the lawn yesterday, I was surprised by a couple new residents in my front yard (see photo). I figured there were baby bunnies in the hole, but didn\’t realize they\’d come so soon.

During dinner on Saturday night, we were treated to a full-on National Geographic special when some big black birds caught wind of the new baby bunnies and tried to carry them away. One bird picked a bunny up by the back of its neck and carried it for a few feet before it wriggled away. Immediately, the mother bunny launched herself at the birds, scaring them all off. Then, she rustled up the other kids and sat on them, guarding them from the evil winged intruders.

During the whole episide, my daughter sat by the window yelling \”go away mean birds!\” I realize it\’s nature and all, but I\’m not sure I want to see the theory of evolution played out when I\’m trying to eat my chicken stir-fry. I fully expect to wake up tomorrow morning to see some cheetahs tearing apart a gazelle on my front lawn.

And I stand firmly with the bunnies in defending themselves. In fact, I threw them some bread crumbs to show a little solidarity – I might have to supply them with some poison birdseed or something. There will be no peace deal brokered here.

Later, the mother breast fed all the kids out on the lawn, which I think violated about 13 city codes.

UPDATE: Even more drama ensued on Sunday night, when I went into the basement and realized one of the bunnies had fallen into a window well and couldn\’t get out. So my wife and I constructed a ramp to help him climb back up onto the lawn. The Worldwide Bunny Association should build a statue of me at their headquarters.

Madison – In his boldest pander yet, Governor Jim Doyle today announced that he prefers women with \”a little meat on their bones.\” \”For too long we have ignored the needs of the Big \’n Sexy Women in our society,\” said Doyle, adding \”if we can just get the women of Wisconsin to put down their crullers long enough to go vote, we can make real progress in the struggle for equal rights for the full-bootied.\”

Doyle\’s announcement sent shock waves through the political world, as Doyle\’s wife Jessica is known for her diminuitive figure. \”We\’ve been dealing with her bad habit of eating a sensible, balanced diet for a while now,\” said Doyle. The Governor mentioned his new proposal to change the name of his wife\’s program from \”Where in Wisconsin is Jessica Doyle?\” to \”Where in Wisconsin is Jessica Doyle Inhaling a Plate of Fried Cheese Curds?\”

Doyle\’s olive branch to the Chunky Vixen community has drawn nationwide rave reviews. Jerome Henton of the More to Love Institute in Independence, Kansas believes Doyle\’s pander is groundbreaking. \”I\’ve never seen a candidate reach out and touch chubby women in this way before, but it\’s usually because they\’re covered in ranch dressing,\” said Henton.

Doyle has recently become known for his over the top pandering. He has told voters that he can help bring down gas prices, when in fact there is nothing he can do to affect the market. He has also promised cures for sick people that are at least a decade away, and proposed a committee to look at ways to keep down health care costs. The committee\’s report, of course, is due on December 1st – right after the November gubernatorial election.

Doyle\’s gubernatorial opponent, Congressman Mark Green, immediately jumped on Doyle\’s blatant pandering. \”Sure, we all occasionally enjoy a full figured woman,\” said Green. \”But even women that are skinny like men who don\’t like skinny women, because no woman actually thinks they\’re skinny,\” he said, adding \”Liking fatties shows sensitivity.\”

Following his announcement, a poll was taken that showed Doyle\’s positives had jumped to 45% among Wisconsin women. The same poll showed that 35% of Wisconsin women disapprove of the job Doyle is doing, while 20% were too lazy to get off their fat asses and answer the phone.

i like it when the brewers swing fast and i like it when they run around the bases and make lots of points. run brewers run! they should do the trades that make them be able to throw the balls really fast and catch the balls with their nonthrowing hands. ned yost should make them hit the balls really far and he should tell them to make the plays that make them win.

it makes me sad when turnbow throws the ball outside of the zone. i think jenkins should swing with his eyes open so he can hit the ball fast. i frown when my sausage doesnt win. go brewers.

Someone please tell me what the Holy Father has to do with this golf ball being auctioned off on eBay. I\’m not exactly sure what Pope Benedict has to do with this guy\’s golf ball, but I give the guy credit – it\’s one hell of a sell job.

The summary isn\’t exactly clear on how the Pope works his way into this guy\’s pitch. Did his holiness actually get a hole in one? From what I can tell, this guy happened to get a hole in one on the day that Bishop Ratzinger was picked to be Pope, and he shares a birthday with Ratzinger. It makes perfect sense! In fact, I keep some Holy nose hair clippings from April 19th of 2005 in a glass case above my velvet Christ paintings.

I also enjoy his pitch that he\’s going to \”donate\” the proceeds of his sale. To what? His holy crack habit?

Finally, the picture of the golf ball on the red velvet placemat is a fantastic touch. Makes it look very papal. And the pictures of Ratzinger, the golf course, and the ball together are priceless… as if we needed a visual to buy his story. OH! I SEE IT NOW! Honey, where\’s my checkbook?

Given that he is infallible, I would expect at least one U.S. Open Championship from the Holy Father. Incidentally, when I play golf, it really is a spiritual experience – I say the Lord\’s name pretty much nonstop for four hours.

Madison – In a stunning announcement, local homosexual Pat Cleveland today announced that he would be remaining in the closet. Cleveland has been urged by his friends and family to \”come out\” since last week, when former *N\’SYNC member Lance Bass rocked the world with the unexpected announcement that he was, in fact, gay.

\”I have a job that I have to keep,\” said Cleveland at a press conference. \”I\’m not a millionaire singer who never has to work again,\” he said. Cleveland announced that the sexuality of his partner, Lance Fontana, would also remain a secret. \”Lance would kill me if the guys down at the wastewater treatment plant knew he was gay,\” said Cleveland. Fontana was unavailable for comment, as he was at ACE Hardware purchasing rat poison.

A local gay and lesbian group, Gays Touching Wisconsin, criticized Cleveland\’s decision, saying that he shouldn\’t be ashamed of keeping his sexual preference a secret. The group has been trying to institute a statewide social policy known as \”gay until further notice,\” in which everyone in Wisconsin is presumed gay until they come out and declare their heterosexuality. \”We\’re really hoping Kathleen Falk forgets to file the paperwork, because that is one good looking man,\” said GTW spokesman Corky Rockwell.

Cleveland said he will be relieved to go back to work with his personal secret intact. He said he and Fontana will be happy to return to the normal world, where their relationship poses a fatal threat to otherwise healthy heterosexual marriages.

For some reason, a bunny rabbit has taken up residence full time in my front yard. He decided to dig a giant hole right in the middle of the yard and just sits there all day guarding it. He has refused my repeated requests to pay rent.

I realize that he\’s just a bunny, but it\’s a little strange having him always there. I think he might just be sizing me up for the attack, Holy Grail-style. I see him watching me, judging me. I think he\’s ready to pounce when he gets the chance. He could just be a lookout for another gang of malcontent bunnies that will all jump me when I\’m carrying a lot of cash.

In an interview in last week\’s Onion A.V. Club, comedian Rob Corddry mentioned a little known \”song\” called \”Nancy Grows Up\” by \’50s performance artist Tony Schwartz. Schwartz recorded his daughter from birth to her teenage years and spliced it all into a two minute file that is really moving. You can hear the file here, or click here for a more web-friendly version.

And thanks to Recidivism for posting the file.

Rarely does a week go by that I\’m not embarrassed to be a TIME Magazine subscriber. Generally, their cover stories break into four categories:

1. Why Bush is ruining the world
2. Here\’s a disease/environmental disaster that is going to kill you
3. There\’s a new movie/gadget that you should see or buy (which we generally have a business interest in seeing succeed)
4. Why Bush is ruining the world

However, I was pleased to see their cover story on stem cells when my TIME came in the mail today. I thought it was balanced and accurately reflected the arguments both sides. If anything, I think it gives a little more space to the pro-lifers.

A nice little respite before next week\’s edition, where we will find out why Bush is standing by and doing nothing while innocent Lebanese citizens are being killed. I mean, really – it\’s like he\’s flying the bombing missions himself.

Given the number of weird cravings I get, you’d think I was seven months pregnant. Then again, you’d get that idea by looking at my gut. But this weekend, I decided that I wanted something from Jamba Juice to beat the heat. I have never been to Jamba Juice (or any other smoothie establishment) in my life, so this was a big step. Normally, I get my required daily serving of fruit from a variety of Jolly Ranchers.

I immediately began the process of planning out my trip to Jamba Juice. I got on the computer and looked up their location (State Street) and checked out their incomprehensible menu. Once I decided what I wanted, I practiced saying it over and over again, so I didn’t look like “guy who had never been to Jamba Juice.” I finally settled on the “Orange Dream Machine,” which sounded like a good deal since all it would cost me to get it would be $4.25 and my testicles.

I drove all the way down to State Street in search of my smooth, icy friend. When I finally got to the store, I walked in and I was the only male amongst about 12 females. Having said “Original Orange Dream Machine” about 200 times on the drive in, I confidently ordered, while triumphantly pulling out my wallet. But then, as if a microcosm of life, things got much more complicated.

Sensing I was a little overconfident, the guy behind the counter suddenly threw me a curveball and offered me something called a “boost.” I was completely unprepared for this. Suddenly, my palms got clammy and I became shifty and evasive. I was breathing into a paper bag when he pointed me to a little chart of what kind of “boost” I was eligible for.

At this point, you are forced to reflect on the state of your life and how this drink can be improved to meet your needs. Need more energy? There’s a boost for that. Lacking protein? There’s a boost for that. Do you feel that your immune system is lacking the ability to fight off viral intruders? Get the “Immunity Boost.” (Although I’m quite certain that boost makes you immune to ever seeing another naked woman.) Evidently, there is also a \”Femme Boost,\” which is mandatory for any man who goes to Jamba Juice more than twice in a fiscal year.

Having taken a moment to take stock of my life, I decided the energy boost was for me. I handed over my money, now wet from perspiration, to the guy behind the counter. He seemed a little overly satisfied, having “outed” me as a first-timer. I could feel the contempt from the other customers burning the back of my neck. I was just anxious to finally wrap my lips around my fruity orange friend.

I realized at that point how great the whole \”boost\” concept was. What if other eating establishments could put things in your food that enhanced the true effect of the food? You could go order a pizza with the \”fat boost.\” You could go to Burger King and just have them sprinkle your double Whopper with a boost of arsenic, to speed up your dying process.

Once it was in hand, I began the long sojourn back to my car. At this point, I realized that I should have really stopped off and picked something else up at a nearby store, so people didn’t know that I went down to State Street just to go to Jamba Juice. About halfway to my car, I realized that they probably gave me the “gay boost.” I suddenly felt the desire to own a poodle. I think if someone beat me up while drinking an Orange Dream Machine, that would qualify as a hate crime.

Here\’s my great marketing idea for Jamba Juice – for $1.00 more, you can get your drink in a cup that doesn\’t have the words \”Jamba Juice\” on it. I\’d pay it – then I could walk down the street and drink it in peace. Make it one of those nondescript \”to go\” cups you get at a diner. Or have the cup say \”This Drink Was NOT Purchased at Jamba Juice.\” That will fool everyone.

When I relayed the horrifying experience to a buddy, he said I played it totally wrong – I should have acted like a guy who had never been to Jamba Juice before. He thinks I would have won more respect from people in the store if I clearly had no idea what I was doing. And I think he’s right, which reminded me of another time where I had to play dumb.

About 10 years ago, I went to a bachelor party in Vegas for one of my uncles. Naturally, the party ended up at an “adult establishment,” which wouldn\’t have been that bad, except that my Dad was there. So I had to totally act like I had no idea where I was, including saying things like:

“This looks like a nice place – what are all these nice ladies doing here? All the lights and noise – I’m so confused! Excuse me, miss – If I put this $20 bill on the stage, do you think you could make change for me? I really need a Diet Pepsi.”

The final Jamba Juice verdict? The drink was fantastic. As was the nice Nine West purse I picked up on sale at Field\’s on the drive home.

In June, federal officials seized 46 pit bulls from the property of Robert Lowery of the Town of Dunn, which in near Madison. Lowery is suspected of running a pit bull fighting operation, although the criminal charges against him deal with drug trafficking and possessing firearms as a convicted felon.

As a result of the raid, there are now 46 pit bulls which have to be cared for at the Dane County Humane Society. Not only do these pit bulls have to be fed and cared for, they also have to be guarded at all times, so nobody comes to steal them. They can\’t be euthanized, as Lowery won\’t relinquish his ownership rights. This becomes an expensive proposition for an agency that barely had the funds to operate under normal capacity. It appears that the Humane Society is asking the county for funding help, and the county will then attempt to turn around and assess Lowery the bill.

In the meantime, however, the pit bulls are displacing resources from other puppy dogs there that are looking for homes. Make sure you go to the donation page and make a contribution to help the dogs that are rightfully there get the care that they need. Or sponsor a dog that\’s there. I think contributions may even be tax deductible.

I mean, how can you say no to little Barney or Ram?

And for Robert Lowery, any respectable judge would sentence him to the following: Load up his underwear with peanut butter, strap him down on a log, and let him spend a little quality time with his 46 pit bulls all at once.

I\’ll let someone else worry about the mean, smelly cats.

UNRELATED SIDE NOTE: Malcolm Gladwell wote an excellent piece on pit bulls in February. It\’s mostly about racial profiling, and there\’s plenty to disagree with, bit it is a good Friday read.

Milwaukee – In a surprise yet mouth-watering twist, the Milwaukee Brewers have had to cancel their plans to add a Chorizo to their sausage races, after it was found that their Mexican sausage was an undocumented refugee in this country. INS Officer Steve McCabe, when asked about the actions taken against the Chorizo, said \”the last time I \’deported\’ a chorizo, I had to call Roto Rooter.\” Documents show that during interrogation, federal officials grilled the Chorizo slowly for about 20 minutes before he was sent back to Mexico.

The Brewers hired the Chorizo to run in the sausage races, and agreed to pay 43 cents an hour. Additionally, the club was going to make him mow the lawn in between games. Down in the minor leagues, there was once an incident where a player mockingly hit the Chorizo with a bat. The Chorizo then pulled out a blade and knifed the player to death, to the delight of the crowd.

A background check on the Chorizo found that he was smuggled over the U.S./Mexico border in 1999, packed into a box of 36 other assorted sausages. Once in America, he did several odd jobs, including a stint in poorly lit films such as \”Chorizo Grande,\” the exotic pool boy.

Later, the Chorizo became more politically active, participating in \”a day without encased meats,\” in which 24,000 Wisconsinites died of malnutrition. Things got rough at one of the rallies, where police chased him with a vat of boiling water. The Chorizo joined the group Voces de la Relish, who already had planned protests if the Chorizo didn\’t win enough sausage races.

This isn\’t the first time trouble has erupted amongst the sausages. Many fans recall 2003, when the bad blood among sausages boiled over and the Italian sausage was caught planting a horse\’s head in the Hot Dog\’s bed. In the 2004 season, the bratwurst got drunk and invaded the Polish sausage\’s home, urinating on all of his plants. Last year, DEA agents raided the Hot Dog\’s home and found a whole room full of ecstasy and marijuana, which explains why he wears sunglasses during the day.

The move to hire the Chorizo was an attempt by the Brewers to lure more Latino fans to the ballpark, which the team decided was a more cost effective strategy than actually fielding a competitive team. Next year, the Brewers will add another mascot to honor the vibrant fat white people community in Milwaukee.

A couple months back, I posted a report from a Cleveland newscast that caught a guy named Mike Cooper strangling the ostrich at the public library. Later on, reporter Carl Monday filed this follow up report.

More importantly, Cooper was actually arrested for his behavior, and was recently sentenced. Fortunately, the same reporter was there to cover the trial and attempt to interview Cooper after the verdict. Needless to say, it was an explosive exchange.

My wife was out of town for the weekend, and took my daughter with her. So I had \”bachelor weekend,\” meaning I remained in a horizontal position for about 36 straight hours. I still think my newspaper is sitting outside. I didn\’t read any news or do anthing remotely responsible – for all I know, America could have invaded North Korea by now (someone leave a comment if we have).

I also attempted to set the world pizza eating record, until my arteries called their social service worker to complain. Incidentally, me eating that much, coupled with the Brewers blowing two games, is a deadly combination – like a caloric molotov cocktail. Don\’t ask me why I feel the need to stuff my face when my wife leaves town. Just getting back in touch with my \”inner bachelor,\” which involves going downstairs to ogle all of my most valuable personal possessions, all of which are fastidiously sealed in tupperware containers in the basement.

While indefinitely reclined, I caught a couple of shows that I now can\’t think of my life without. I watched a few episodes of the \”World Series of Pop Culture,\” and I\’m hooked. I absolutely must try out for this show – I\’m soliciting for other Madison contestants to join a team with me. It\’s about a simple of a concept as can be – you just stand up there and answer pop culture questions (there\’s usually only one hard one per set of six questions). Then, when you win, you have to go give an interview to Lisa Guererro (who looks like she has been hooked up to a mayonnaise I.V. since she got booted from Monday Night Football).

I am the king of useless trivia. My wife refuses to play Trivial Pursuit with me because I\’m so good. Actually, it\’s because I taunt her relentlessly – when I get a question right, I get up and do a dance reminiscent of Daniel\’s bird pose in \”The Karate Kid.\” But I do know a lot about meaningless stuff, and the questions are easy. Just get me on the show, and I\’ll dominate.

Two other notes – this show is replete with cute girls who are carrying a few extra pounds. Not making a value judgement, merely an observation. Also, it features the greatest team name I\’ve ever heard. Unfortunately \”We\’re What Willis Was Talkin\’ About\” lost in the semifinals.

I also caught a couple of episodes of the inexplicable \”Pants Off Dance Off\” on the FUSE Network. There just aren\’t words for this show. Apparently, regular folks go on TV and strip to their favorite song for the chance to win like 20 bucks or something. All it costs them is their dignity. Rather than describe it for you, I\’ll just point you to the webpage, where you can see the contestants and watch videos. I highly recommend \”Steve,\” for beginners. And you might not want to tell people you enjoyed it.