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.

I\’ve always been curious about the whole \”ribbon awarding\” process at county fairs. Why should some husky 4-H\’er get all the credit for raising a big fat pig? It\’s not like she somehow magically coaxed the pig into growing – the pig does all the work. So why does the owner get the ribbon? Can\’t we at least get the pig a lap dance before he becomes an award winning BLT?

My wife and I have begun the unenviable process of looking at preschools for our daughter. When I began the search, I had absolutely no idea what to look for in a pre-school program, although I figured it was a bad sign if knifeplay was encouraged.

I wasn’t prepared, though, for what I actually encountered while perusing preschool websites. Most sites have special sections that illustrate their “philosophy” or “mission,” presumably to give parents an overview of what type of education their children will receive. What you often find is some semi-lucid platitudinous nonsense that would make an episode of Barney the Dinosaur sound like it was written by Bertrand Russell.

Fifteen years ago, George F. Will wrote a column where he noted the “cult of self-validating expression contributed to the debasement of education, which came to be considered of process of letting something out of students rather than putting something into them.” This seems to be the guiding principle of Madison area preschools.

Take, for example, the “Once Upon a Time” child care center in Verona. Their “Philosophy” page reads, in part (my emphasis):

Balance, harmony and quality education for your child is the philosophy of Once Upon a Time Child Care Center (“Once Upon a Time”). Providing a nurturing and safe environment is a given and will be the foundation of the center. However, we will expand on the traditional approach to child care and will focus on creating a stimulating, interactive learning center blending basic theory and environmental curriculums with holistic, stress relieving life skills…

Children will focus on developing academic skills as well as the following characteristics: kindness, compassion, caring, understanding, and a respect for others. Children will work on being polite, learn to acknowledge kindness, avoid competition, help others in need, share skills and talents, and celebrate the diversity of our planet.

\”Avoid competition?\” Do they expect kids to grow up and only work jobs for which they aren\’t required to submit a resume? Is my daughter supposed to get into college somewhere that doesn\’t accept applications? Clearly, the proprietors of this day care center reject the very foundation of American society that provides incentives for individual excellence. Instead, they would rather teach three year olds \”stress relieving life skills.\” I can honestly say I have never uttered the words \”you know, my daughter is really stressed out from all the napping, pooping, and watching \’Blue\’s Clues\’ that she does. She really needs some relief from her onerous schedule.\”

Or as my friend succinctly put it: \”The sooner my son learns that life is a painful race to the top, the better.\”

Lest you think that this is an isolated day care center, and lest you think I just wanted to use the word \”lest,\” here\’s the mission statement from the expensive Creative Learning Preschool:

We provide children with a warm, safe and nurturing environment and strive to meet each child\’s developmental needs. Our low child to staff ratios and small group sizes ensure quality, personalized care for every child. Creative Learning Preschool is a culturally diverse child care center with a preschool program based upon the High/Scope Philosophy. This philosophy is directed toward the use of a child-directed/initiated curriculum and age appropriate play activities. Teachers are experienced, well-educated early childhood professionals who genuinely care about children and understand child development.

This seems to be a common theme in area day care centers – the \”Montessori\” philosophy of \”child directed/initiated curriculum.\” (In Italian, \”Montessori\” means \”your child\’s head is unusually large.\”) Sure, there may be some genius kids who can direct their own learning, but if left to her own devices, I\’m fairly sure my daughter would specialize in \”the philosophy of pouring syrup down your pants.\”

This, of course, is in stark contrast to the philosophy I learned as a youngster, which was known as the \”school sucks, and I hate learning English, math and science, but my parents care for me so I better do what the teacher says\” method. Apparently, this outdated model has gone the way of Jim Doyle\’s hairline – extinct. Today, the words \”teaching\” and \”learning\” are pejorative terms. Now, we must let each child get in touch with their \”inner child,\” meaning \”teacher has yoga class soon, so play by yourself for the next hour and make sure your parents are on time picking you up.\”

These preschools, of course, work in a free market, so they are welcome to represent themselves to parents in any way they want. Obviously, this type of education is in demand, as waiting lists around town are prevalent. In fact, these syrupy mission statements may just be a way to lure parents in, where they nefariously switch gears and actually \”teach\” children things.

Now you may think to yourself that since the state licenses all of these day care centers, that there must be some minimum standards for each center. When you go to the state Department of Workforce Development child care website, however, it takes time to shill for higher day care worker pay.

The state Department of Health and Family Services website is even more curious. On a page entitled \”Is your child care center secure?\” you would expect the tips about access to the day care center, pickup procedures, and the like. But they obviously couldn\’t help themselves, as there is a link to a PBS page entitled \”Talking to Kids about War and Violence.\” Certainly foremost on the minds of parents concerned about their kids\’ safety. Doesn\’t exactly instill confidence that state bureaucrats have any idea what they\’re doing.

It doesn\’t get any better post-pre school, either. Take the mission statement for the Elm Lawn Elementary School:

We believe that each of us in the Elm Lawn School community is responsible for helping to create a physically and emotionally safe environment where all people feel welcome, trusted and valued. We strive to openly listen to the opinions and ideas of others in order to appreciate and celebrate our differences. Our goal is to create a nurturing, non-critical environment where each person feels free to take risks and where both individuality and a feeling of community is honored.

Allow me to translate:

\”We know your kid was probably an unwanted mistake, but as long as he\’s in our school, he won\’t be made to feel inadequate in any way, regardless of his abilities. We will make sure that no child will be pushed to reach their full potential, as it may make goofball children like yours look bad. Most important is how your kids \”feel,\” not what they learn, how they\’re challenged, or that they\’ll be able to have a snowball\’s chance in the cutthroat world someday.\”

Such an educational cultural ethos leaves a parent with little confidence that their preschooler is going to get a quality education. There\’s a better chance my daughter goes to a school that teaches that conflicts must be resolved by a break dancing contest than one that actually teaches spelling and math.

———————————————————————-

Some other child care oddities:

From the Preschool of the Arts\’ \”FAQ\” section:

What kinds of fo
od or snacks do you serve the children?A special and wonderful aroma wafts out of the kitchen of Preschool of the Arts and into the hallways and around to the door. Chef Tom Morrison-Weeks is hard at work preparing some lovely homemade bread or steaming hot soup or scrumptious pasta or beautiful fresh vegetables. Trained at Madison Area Technical College, Chef Tom has been cooking at our school for over 10 years when his daughter Emily attended.

Sign #1 that you\’re paying too much for day care: Your kids are eating more five star meals than you are. I knew something was wrong when my daughter left my wife the following note:

Dearest Mom: I found your macaroni and cheese pungent, yet lacking adequate flavor. While it was served in a timely manner, it failed to challenge my palate. The side of graham crackers was an elegant touch, yet left my taste buds lonely and confused. Please kick it up a notch.
P.S. – I licked your iPod.

BAM! Your kids can\’t read!

From the Campus for Kids Learning Center:

We accept children regardless of race, color, national origin, sex, creed, political persuasion, ancestry, handicapping condition or age if an opening is available in the requested age group.

Political persuasion? Good to see my three year old daughter\’s strong opinions on the UN\’s soft stance on Hezbollah won\’t be held against her. Will she be able to watch her Baby Scalia DVDs? Will she be the only kid with a Donald Rumsfeld lunchbox?

Child Development, Inc. actually takes credit for the successes of its alumni:

A cancer research at the UW-Madison, a Boston lawyer, a Phi Beta Kappa graduate, a member of a Grammy-award winning musical group, a Denver Broncos football player, and Madison Police Chief Noble Wray. What do these people have in common? They\’re all alumni of the South Madison Child CareCenter and proud of it. Each attended this CDI preschool and credits that experience with giving them the head start needed to make their big dreams come true.

As if the things they accomplish have anything to do with the preschool they attended. Do they have a cancer research lab with bunsen burners and little mini lab coats? Is there a vigorous weight training program for three year olds who want to play in the NFL? Somewhere out there, there\’s a day care bragging that one of their alumni is a \”nationally known researcher who believes the 9/11 attacks were an inside job.\”

The Caring Center has a section where they outline the \”Childrens\’ Rights.\” These, of course, were ratified at the Preschooler Constitutional Convention in 1786. They include protection against self poop incrimination, the right to bare butts, and the controversial right to publicly pick your nose, inspect its contents, and consume your findings. This provision has been repeatedly sustained in Toddler Supreme Court rulings.

A perfect gift for your loved one, as long as you are willing to spend $15,000 on a handwritten journal that suggests eating your own flesh as the cure for cancer. Sounds like this guy might be qualified to teach oncology at the UW Medical School.

GOOD LUCK BIDDING AND MAY GOD BLESS YOU.

On July 14th, the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency made a major announcement: that they would finally be getting tough on illegal immigration – of engines that pollute. They bragged that there would be a crackdown on importation of engines that may endanger U.S. air quality.

According to the EPA\’s press release:

The federal Clean Air Act (CAA) requires new gasoline and diesel engines sold or distributed in the United States to meet EPA emissions requirements to protect public health and the environment from air pollution. There has been a recent and dramatic increase in imports of gasoline and diesel equipment, chiefly from China, which do not meet these standards.

So the movement of illegal combustion engines across our borders is worthy of federal resources? Is there a sleeper cell of lawn mower engines plotting to take down America by mulching us to death? For every dollar they spend looking for illegal engines, they could be looking for illegal aliens or terrorists. The biggest threat to American air quality is the exhaust from a burning building after al-Qaeda bombs it.

This brings to mind the obvious question: What if we catch a Mexican zooming across the U.S./Mexico border on an illegal engine? Keep the alien and have the scooter deported?

Here\’s the picture that accompanied the EPA press release. It shows how tough on immigration they really are getting. Thank you, Federal Government. I now feel safe.

Last week, Governor Doyle quietly appointed William Pocan to be a Milwaukee County circuit court judge, replacing Michael Sullivan. As you may know, William Pocan is the brother of outspoken Democratic State Representative Mark Pocan.

By all accounts, Mark Pocan is a good guy. He\’s a royal pain in the backside to Republicans, but it\’s because he can afford to be, given his ultra-liberal district. For all I know, his brother\’s a decent guy as well.

However, I looked up his biography at his current law firm, Jastroch and LaBarge, and it says the following (my emphasis):

William S. Pocan received his law degree from the University of Wisconsin – Madison Law School in 1984. He is a member of the American Bar Association, the State Bar of Wisconsin, the Milwaukee County Bar Association and the Waukesha County Bar Association. He is also a member of the Wisconsin State Bar\’s Consumer Information and Protection Committee and the Milwaukee Bar Association Bench/Bar Civil Committee. Attorney Pocan concentrates his practice in the area of civil litigation, primarily representing consumers in automobile warranty litigation (Wisconsin Lemon Law and Magnuson-Moss Warranty Act cases) and other consumer matters.

So how exactly does one go from suing car dealers for warranty violations to a seat on the Milwaukee County Circuit Court? How in any way does drumming up Lemon Law violations prepare someone for dealing with Milwaukee County criminals? When someone accused of stabbing comes to trial, Pocan will likely sentence him to three years of driving a Yugo with a bent axle. Sleep well, Milwaukee.

So how did he get the job? Does it have anything to do with the fact that his brother carries Jim Doyle pom-poms around, publicly defending him at every turn? Wasn\’t it Mark Pocan that called a legislative hearing that aimed to get answers about criminal indictments in the Doyle Administration a \”dog and pony show?\” Wasn\’t that Mark Pocan somehow blaming gubernatorial candidate Mark Green for the failure of a bogus ethics bill to be scheduled for the floor of the Assembly, when Doyle himself won\’t even call a special session on the same bill? Isn\’t that Mark Pocan out campaigning for Doyle\’s hand-picked Democratic Attorney General candidate, Kathleen Falk? Need I go on?

Of course, William Pocan is a generous Jim Doyle donor, having given him $500 over the last four years. I don\’t hold this against him, because governors always have appointed financial supporters to positions, and always will. In fact, I plan on giving money to Mark Green in the hopes that he names me to the prestigious position of State Booty Inspector.

SIDE NOTE: If anyone at Pocan\’s law firm deserves to be a judge, it is Vincent Megna, fresh off his role of Carbone in Goodfellas. Brother is ca$h money.

A root beer float cannot be made so big that I cannot drink it.

Small Town Mourns Beloved Rooster That Acted Like Person (Video)

I dare you to keep a straight face while watching it.

And what the hell is going on in Oregon these days? In just the past few days, they\’ve had:

The guy who sued Michael Jordan for $832 million because he thinks they look alike.

The desperate woman who called 911 to get the phone number for a cute police officer; and

The guy who repairs his truck naked (Video)

Quite a hat trick.