The week in review.

What have we learned from this week? Quite a bit.

1. Rules do not apply to me. Period. I get away with murder, left and right.

2. Apparently, what people describe as a “twenty minute walk” can take up to forty-five.

3. Wearing a bright red t-shirt, with grey slacks, patterned socks and well-polished dress shoes to work is simply magnificent. Good job, Dheeraj.

4. Quitting smoking is not anywhere near as fun as people make it out to be.

5.  Zeta.


Some funny comments from my mother

As we all know, my mother is one of the funniest people in the world. She doesn’t mean to be, but she really is. Anyway, she has recently come up with some phrases to describe my kind of politics that are quite funnier than my common DesicratTM. She has taken to calling me a “Brown Dog” or a “Brown Donkey.” I don’t quite know why, but this amuses me to no end. I’ve always thought of myself as belligerent, braying, kicking ass, and so it’s just funny to have that party affiliation, too. -dx

Do you speak Luntz?

It’s a relevant question, I think, if you’re a Republican. If you can’t speak Luntz, you’re of no use to the modern party.


p.s. I would like to make it clear that although I consider Luntz to be one of the greatest dirtbags in the history of professional politics, I am in absolute awe of his mastery over polling, focus groups and language testing.

The week in review

Last week will be remembered as the Week of Stupid, I think. Everyone knows why, but I think that we can all learn a few things that definitely need to be remembered:

1. The IDF are crazy. Absolutely crazy, and simply not worth messing with.
2. I have a very compelling manner of speech.
3. Misunderstandings, however, abound from said manner of speech.
4. There is absolutely no reason that I should ever, ever be allowed to make or receive telephone calls after more than nine drinks.

Bloody hell, I need a Communications Director.


Friday Nights

It always seems as if I have so many amazing offers of neat things to do, but I have finally narrowed down what it is that I intend to do what my Friday nights.  From now on, consider my Friday evenings on Google Calendar to filled in by spending my Friday evenings and nights with C. David Smith and Kyle J. “Cock The” Hammer at The Albemarle in Van Ness.

Yes, my friends, it’s going to be hard to top the escapades that the three of us get into.


Let’s bet.

Those of you who have tried to bet with me on things in the past have heard me say that I don’t gamble, and that’s been historically true. However, recent events have led me to make a mild exception to this policy. Phil Kerpen has presented some very compelling scenarios in which I find it acceptable to bet one cup of decaffeinated coffee. Let the gambling begin. -dx

An Open Letter

Once again, dear readers, today’s humour update is courtesy of my dear friend, Erik Swedberg.

Dear Alcohol,

First & foremost, let me tell you that I’m a huge
fan of yours. As my friend, you always seem to be
there when needed. The perfect post-work cocktail, a
beer at the game, and you’re even around at the
holidays, hidden inside chocolates, as you warm us
when we’re stuck in the midst of endless family
gatherings. However, lately I’ve been wondering about
your intentions. While I want to believe that you have
my best interests at heart, I feel that your influence
has led to some unwise consequences:

1. Phone calls: While I agree with you that
communication is important, I question the suggestion
that any conversation of substance or necessity takes
place after 2 a.m . Why would you make me call those
ex-boyfriends/girlfriends when I know for a fact they
do not want to hear from me during the day, let alone
all hours of the night?

2. Eating: Now, you know I love a good meal, but why
do you suggest that I eat a taco with chili sauce,
along with a big Italian meatball and some stale chips
washed down with WINE & topped off with a Kit Kat
after a few cheese curls & chili cheese fries)? I’m an
eclectic eater, but I think you went too far this

3. Clumsiness: Unless you’re subtly trying to tell me
that I need to do more yoga to improve my balance, I
see NO need to hammer the issue home by causing me to
fall down. It’s completely unnecessary, and the black
blue marks that appear on my body mysteriously the
next day are beyond me. Similarly, it should never
take me more than 45 seconds to get the front door key
into the lock.

4. Furthermore: The hangovers have GOT to stop. This
is getting ridiculous. I know a little penance for our
previous evening’s debauchery may be in order, but the
3pm hangover immobility is completely unacceptable. My
entire day is shot. I ask that, if the proper
precautions are taken (water, vitamin B, bread
products,aspirin) prior to going to sleep/passing out
face down on the kitchen floor with a bag of popcorn,
the hangover should be minimal & in no way interfere
with my daily activities.

Alcohol, I have enjoyed our friendship for some years
now & would like to ensure that we remain on good
terms. You’ve been the invoker of great stories, the
provocation for much laughter, and the needed
when I just don’t know what to do with the extra money
in my pockets.

In order to continue this friendship, I ask that you
carefully review my grievances above & address them
immediately. I will look for an answer no later than
Thursday 3pm (pre-happy hour) on your possible
solutions & hopefully we can continue this fruitful

Thank you,
Your biggest fan

1. Innovative 2. Preliminary 3. Proliferation 4.

1. Specificity 2. British Constitution 3.
Passive-aggressive disorder

1. Thanks, but I don’t want to have sex.
2. Nope, no more beer for me.
3. Sorry, but you’re not really my type.
4. Good evening, officer. Isn’t it lovely out tonight?
5. Oh, I couldn’t. No one wants to hear me sing.

Why go with anything else?

In the never ending battle that is the life of the single man to remedy that condition, I have heard many a theorist offer ludicrous ideas.  I’m not going to outline them here, but I think that one field in particular that suffers from a surplus of bad ideas is the art of meeting a woman. I’ve heard people offer up any number of “lines” and “routines” to meet women.

Now, while I’m no semiologist, and I’m terrible at picking up little clues from the way that a woman will blink her eyes or not, or any other such idiocy, I have had an amazing success rate with this line:

“Hi, I saw you from across the room and thought you were pretty. I wanted to meet you. May I join you?”

There are variations on this, to make it content specific, but I really don’t see why anything else needs to be said.


p.s. This line has come to be known as “The DX Classic” amongst my friends. I have no idea why.