Check out Brian Regan’s new show (taped for a CD). And buy his CD if you like it.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AYt-rVUU2EQ
Also, check out his tour dates. He’s everywhere this year.
Archives for category: Uncategorized
About 25 years ago, I was channel-flipping and came across a game show (can’t remember which one). One of the contestants was named “Walter.”
Chuck Wollery chatted him up. Walter said, “I’m Walter Eagan. I had a hit song, “Magnet and Steel.”
Chuck was confused.
So Walt sang a few lines: “You are the magnet, and I am the steel…”
Chuck had no clue and moved on.
MORAL OF THE STORY: Fame is fleeting.
Check this out. Jefferson basically takes the teachings of Jesus and cuts out all the miracles to clarify the message.
Village of Palatine Code of Ordinnces. All links go to long rambling “laws.”
Table of Contents
Chapter 1 – General Provisions
Chapter 2 – Administration
Chapter 3 – Alcoholic Beverages
Chapter 4 – Ambulance and Mobile Intensive Care Units
Chapter 5 – Animals
Chapter 6 – Building Codes and Regulations
Chapter 7 – Fire Prevention and Protection
Chapter 8 – Garbage and Refuse
Chapter 9 – Health and Sanitation
Chapter 10 – Existing Structures’ Maintenance and Occupancy
Chapter 11 – Licenses, Permits and Business Regulations
Chapter 12 – Offenses and Miscellaneous Provisions
Chapter 13 – Police Department
Chapter 14 – Real Estate Disclosure Act
Chapter 14 1/2 – Conveyance of Real Estate Owned by the Village
Chapter 15 – Emergency Energy Plans
Chapter 16 – Construction and Maintenance of Facilities in the Public Rights-of-Way
Chapter 17 – Taxes
Chapter 18 – Traffic
Chapter 19 – Utility Services
Chapter 20 – Telecommunications
Appendix A – Zoning Ordinance
Ord. #0-115-12 – Secs. 3.02, 10.02 thru 10.07
Appendix B – Subdivision, Site Dev. & Floodplain Regulations
The most current Fee Schedule is listed below
CY2012 Fee Schedule (updated 3/19/12)
“When guns are outlawed, only outlaws will have guns”
We hear this all the time. It’s the NRA’s mantra.
But look closely at the phrase. It implies, “if nobody was allowed to legally purchase or own a gun, then the bad guys will kill us.”
False.
Say firearms purchases were made illegal and any current firearm you own was snatched away from you. What would you do?
That’s right. If you wanted a gun , you’d go buy it out of some guy’s trunk down by the bridge, just like everybody else. It’s the government. You can get around it.
I mean, marijuana’s illegal, and I hear THAT’S pretty popular.
I’ve never understood people who rabidly hate gay people. And I’m not talking about lesbians; pretty much everyone loves lesbians. Women view them as non-threatening to their datable man pool, and men view them as those babes we saw in that video yesterday.
I mean primarily men who hate gay men. I’ve known several gay guys in my life. Some were very obvious and flamboyant, others much more reserved. Most of them were quite a bit more interesting than the majority of straight guys I know.
If you think about it, there are really only three kinds of people who frequently think about gay sex: sexually active gay people, people who are curious about it but not sure how to react to it, and people who are so outraged by it they want it wiped out forever. Everyone else doesn’t think about gay sex. We think about paying bills and getting drunk and who Jennifer Aniston is dating.
That means that, if you think about gay sex a lot, you’re either openly gay and comfortable with it, thinking about being openly gay, or in deep denial about your gayness and thus really, really pissed off about it.
So if you’re a guy who hates gays and routinely uses phrases like “faggot” and “cocksucker” and “ass pirate” and want to beat the shit out of “fairies,” take a good look at yourself. Why are you so angry? Why does what anyone wants to do behind closed doors concern you? Are you fantasizing about the pleasures of a nice juicy man-hole, but know if you let on at all, your buddies at Ricky’s Roadside Bar will kick your ass?
Chill out, meathead knee-jerk homophobes. Gays aren’t going to come up to you on the street and randomly fellate you. But if they did, you know you’d like it, then feel the need to frequent bathhouses and gay bars and Justin Bieber concerts. And then you’d finally be happy instead of angry and hateful. Just sayin’.
All right, brain. You don’t like me and I don’t like you, but let’s just do this and I can get back to killing you with beer.
Bart, a woman is like a beer. They look good, they smell good, and you’d step over your own mother just to get one!
Beer. Now there’s a temporary solution.
Dear Baby, Welcome to Dumpsville. Population: You.
Does whisky count as beer?
Don’t let Krusty’s death get you down, boy. People die all the time, just like that. Why, you could wake up dead tomorrow! Well, good night.
Facts are meaningless. You could use facts to prove anything that’s even remotely true!
Getting out of jury duty is easy. The trick is to say you’re prejudiced against all races.
I hope I didn’t brain my damage.
I saw this movie about a bus that had to SPEED around a city, keeping its SPEED over fifty, and if its SPEED dropped, it would explode! I think it was called, ‘The Bus That Couldn’t Slow Down.’
I wonder where Bart is, his dinner’s getting all cold…and eaten.
If they think I’m going to stop at that stop sign, they’re sadly mistaken.
If you really want something in this life, you have to work for it — now quiet, they’re about to announce the lottery numbers!
I’m a white male, age 18 to 49. Everyone listens to me, no matter how dumb my suggestions are.
I’m going to the backseat of my car with the woman I love, and I won’t be back for TEN MINUTES.
I’m no supervising technician, I’m a technical supervisor.
It’s like something out of that twilighty show about that zone.
Kids, kids. As far as daddy’s concerned, you’re both potential murderers.
Kill my boss? Do I dare live out the American dream?
Lisa, if the Bible has taught us nothing else, and it hasn’t, it’s that girls should stick to girls sports, such as hot oil wrestling and foxy boxing and such and such.
Lord help me, I’m just not that bright.
Marge! Look at all this great stuff I found at the marina. It was just sitting in some guy’s boat!
Marge, it takes two to lie. One to lie and one to listen.
Shut up, brain, or I’ll stab you with a Q-tip.
Remember that postcard grandpa sent us from Florida of that alligator biting that woman’s bottom? That’s right, we all thought it was hilarious. But it turns out we were wrong. That alligator was sexually harassing that woman.
Now Bart, since you broke grandpa’s teeth, he gets to break yours.
Trying is the first step towards failure.
Oh, people can come up with statistics to prove anything, Kent. 14% of people know that.
Operator! Give me the number for 911!
Solid waste! I could kiss you! Bleh! Ew! Yeech! Ooh! I think this was pizza!
Stealing! How could you?! Haven’t you learned anything from that guy who gives those sermons at church? Captain What’s-His-Name?
The only danger is if they send us to that terrible planet of the apes.
They have the Internet on computers now?
Uh huh. Uh huh. Okay. Um, can you repeat the part of the stuff where you said all about the…things? Uh… the things?
When I look at the smiles on all the children’s faces, I just know they’re going to jab me with something.
When will I learn? The answers to life’s problems aren’t at the bottom of a bottle, they’re on TV!
Yeah Moe, that team sure did suck last night. They just plain sucked! I’ve seen teams suck before, but they were the suckiest bunch of sucks that ever sucked!
Yes, honey…just squeeze your rage up into a bitter little ball and release it at an appropriate time, like that day I hit the referee with the whisky bottle.
You couldn’t fool your mother on the foolingest day of your life if you had an electrified fooling machine.
You know, Moe, my mom once said something that really stuck with me. She said, “Homer, you’re a big disappointment,” and God bless her soul, she was really onto something.
You’ll have to speak up, I’m wearing a towel.
I recently took a cab from the Chicago Metra Station to a bar near Wrigleyville. I was meeting my nephew and sister for some drinks.
I hailed the cab and got in. I was wearing a patterned sort-of-Hawaiian-type shirt. I told the cabbie where I was headed. He said, “Man, when I first saw you, I thought, ‘he’s right out of the jungle!’”
I joked, “well, I HAVE killed a few lions. And the tribe chief gave me the day off to get drunk.”
He laughed, then told me his story. He’s from a Zulu tribe in Africa, and has been a Chicago cabbie for two years. His tribe kicked him out because he was too rowdy and rambunctious. He’d had to learn how to drive, and did well financially with his cab (he WAS pretty adept a weaving in and out of rush-hour traffic).
I was intrigued. “Wow. Why did you decide to come to Chicago?”
He said he wanted to see what America was like. He’d heard it was a great country. There was quite a bit of dismay in his voice.
I asked him more about his home. He said a lion had eaten his nephew, and gorillas had beaten him up twice. He showed me a large circular scar on his inner left wrist. A mildly poisonous snake had tried to attack him, and he’d grasped it by the throat, but it managed to take a hunk out of his arm. He’d sucked the poison out and run back to his village for help.
I said, “do you have some kind of medicine men?” He said the healers in his tribe are old men with no real medicine. If you have a headache, they’ll give you pig lips to eat, then say a prayer.
“Does that work?”
“Oh yes. Your headache goes away.”
I said, “this must be real culture shock for you. I mean, we Americans are pretty stupid and selfish.”
He immediately agreed. “Yes, you’re very stupid. And fat and ugly.”
“Hey, I used to be skinny and good-looking, but I got old.”
I imagined the typical Chicagoans he’d had as regular fares: drunken entitled frat boys, thugs (he’d been jumped more than once), rude self-absorbed businesspeople, giggling vapid young girls. Not a real good representation of a “great” country.
“You have so much food here. Nobody appreciates that. We have to raise all our crops and livestock, and hunt.”
I agreed. “Yep, we’re pretty much ungrateful assholes.”
“You Americans wouldn’t last a day in the jungle. You’d get eaten by a lion.”
“I’d punch him in the face first, THEN I’d get eaten. That’d show him.”
I asked him more questions. His tribe lives in mud huts with leaf roofs. He was a farmer in the tribe; all the food grown and livestock raised is for internal consumption. They don’t trade or barter anything with other tribes. He said a few times, “maybe you’ve seen it on TV.” I assume he meant National Geographic-type documentaries.
I said, “I’m impressed. That’s a pretty intense way to live.” He said, “yes. Yes, it’s very intense.”
He told me he has no friends here and misses his tribe. I asked, “are you kicked out forever?” He put his hands together in prayer and said, “I’m going to ask the chief to let me back in.”
The guy came to a major U.S. city that has pretty much everything you could ask for (at least from an American point of view). He thought it would be a great place to live in exile — but he absolutely hates it and the people in it. He wants to make amends and go back to join his people in the harsh eat-or-get-eaten jungle habitat.
We arrived at the bar and I gave him a nice tip. As I got out I said, “you’re an entertaining fellow. Good luck; I hope you get back to your tribe.”
MORAL OF THE STORY: We Americans take pretty much everything we have for granted. We bitch about minor inconveniences when even the most downtrodden among us have it so much better than many, many people in this world. We could be living in mud huts fending off lions and tigers and gorillas and snakes – not to mention a plethora of jungle diseases and possible enemy tribes — and eating pig lips to get rid of the headache caused by all that stress.
So count your blessings, fellow Americans. And for God’s sake, SHUT THE HELL UP.
Keep up the good work, toots! That guy’s an angry idiot with no sense of humor and even less business-savvy 😉 Think he likes you?
XOXOXOXOXO
The Lazlo Letters by Don Novello (Father Guido Sarducci) is a very funny book. Hmmm…wonder who’s been reading THIS lately?
webelmania 