A Bad List of Good Places to Dump Children Who Obviously Aren't Going to be able to put you in a good nursing home

I apologize for giving up on the capitalization. The booze told me it was a good idea.

Let me preface by saying that abandoning an infant is never the right course of action. It's stupid to dump a kid before you figure out if he's going to be the next Einstein or Tiger Woods or Flava Flav. It's like when you test drive a car. Or when you pop an adult movie into the VCR and the first fifteen minutes are trying to build some kind of stupid story (the Best Toaster Ever says this happens all the time - I wouldn't know, and I can't figure out where it's hiding the VCR so I can't investigate its claims). Just like with porn, you've got to give kids a little time to show you what they can do before you hit the eject button.

"But Scott Colby!" you gasp as you zip yourself up, feeling disappointed that there will be no further mention of pornography in this blog entry. "The children are precious!"

Not the ones that aren't going to be able to put you in a good nursing home, dumbass. If you end up in some shit ass hole-in-the-wall home where they only play Bingo once a week and none of the nurses are cute and their idea of activity hour is making macaroni pictures and the pudding sucks and they try to make you stop whacking those lousy teenagers with your cane and you have to hide your bottle of Jack Daniels so they won't take it away and they never have enough Viagra and you have to share a room with some old coot who thinks he's Ronald Reagan and another old fart who smells like Paris Hilton after a weekend in Vegas and there isn't a stripper pole in the lounge and the bus only goes to Foxwoods but never Mohegan Sun, it won't be my fault. I'm trying to help you.

And yes, I realize that was probably the worst run-on sentence on the Interweb that wasn't written by some thirteen year old drama queen in a Sixteen Magazine forum. It was a stylistic choice, and I believe it to have been a good one.

Anyways, prepare yourself once again for the power of the bulleted list as it imparts upon you a plethora of good places to abandon your children only to reclaim them twenty years later when they're inevitably loaded and can take proper care of you:

• Vince McMahon's doorstep. This is an especially good idea if your son is under five years old but is five feet tall and weighs a buck fifty. Having a WWF Champion in the family tree is never a bad thing, especially since the belt looks damn good on the mantle or attached to the grill of the Bentley your son will bring you as a gift during your heartfelt reunion.
• The backseat of Paris Hilton's car. Think about it - that kid'll be on the cover of every supermarket tabloid on the planet for the next three months, then he'll resurface with a heroin addiction by the time he's fourteen, thus bringing about a VH1 documentary and a possible career in reality television after he turns twenty-one. Warning: Do not leave a little girl with Paris Hilton. She may be able to put you in a nice nursing home, but you'll be known throughout the land as the parent of the biggest slut since...well...FOREVER.
• The Grand Canyon. David Spade's magnum opus, "Joe Dirt," proves that any child abandoned in the Grand Canyon will grow up to become a national celebrity and get the hot farm chick regardless of grooming habits and the influence of Kid Rock.
• The yacht club. If you didn't see this one coming, I think you've got a bit of reading to do.
• Tom Cruise's house. But first you have to hire a tattoo artist to give your child a "birthmark" that looks like L. Ron Hubbard.
• Lionel Richie's mansion. After all, if he hadn't adopted Nicole, she'd probably be a successful, well-adjusted, professional young woman who eats right and has good taste in friends rather than what she is today: fucking loaded.
  
• A Third World country. This is kind of a crapshoot, and as such it should only be used as a last resort. There's no guarantee that Madonna or Angelina is going to adopt your particular child, and you may have to try multiple countries before achieving success.

And now, a public service announcement:

Are you an avid reader of this blog? Do you enjoy consistent updates that don't include a link to some stupid news story?

Then it's your civic duty to see to it that Scott Colby always has a healthy supply of beer from the Magic Hat Brewing Company in his fridge!

Plus, you can dictate the type of update you'll get by buying him different types of beer. #9 will get you yachts, Kelly Clarkson, and baseball. Roxy Rolles produces a generous helping of The Best Toaster Ever with a side of random celebrity bullshit. Fat Angel switches the focus to Nelly Furtado, stupid politicians, and that time Kaplan made out with a fat girl (hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha) (hahaha) (ha). Circus Boy brings out the T and Kim Jong Il and acts as a mild bulleted list suppressant.

And who knows what'll happen if you start mixing! Comedy will certainly ensue!

So hurry up and buy me some beer. If you don't, I'll call Steve Rossi and have him send his Mafia connections after you. Unfortunately, that might not actually work very well in my favor, as any Mafia connections Steve Rossi has are more likely to cook you a wonderful homemade pasta dinner than they are to take out your kneecaps.

(Happy now, Steve? I've set you up to be a recurring character! Pretty soon Steve Rossi t-shirts will be outselling the Best Toaster Ever's "I'll warm up your buns, baby!" t-shirts hand over fist!)

This update brought to you courtesy of the Magic Hat Brewery

First off, I would like to congratulate Cupcake on his invocation of the Two Month Rule. Gold digging appears to be a genetic gift...now I just have to make sure my wife's yacht is bigger than my brother's wife's yacht.

Next, let's talk Manny. I'm hearing and reading that the signing of J.D. Drew will allow the Sox to move their best hitter, even though the guy hit only .283 with 20 homers and 100 RBI in 143 games last year - which is about what Trot Nixon usually does when he stays healthy. And he did it against National League pitching. We're talking the same league where Josh Paul (the guy that tried to be Wakefield's catcher) is a good player. Fucking ridiculous. Trading Manny for anyone other than Michael Young, Albert Pujols, Vlad Guerrero, or Vernon Wells is just a stupid ass move. Meanwhile, the Blue Jays have added Frank Thomas and the Yankees are going to have Bobby Abreu for a full year. Fire Theo NOW before we spend the next five seasons in third place - and before American League pitchers get the chance to help Big Papi break every intentional walk record in the books.

I would also like to have a moment of silence for my recently departed bottle of Bombay Sapphire.









I'll miss you, Mr. Sapph. The times we spent together were truly special. Like when I came home annoyed about my commute...or when I came home pissed off at the snow...or the countless times when Nick and J-Rags were cooking dinner, and I needed something to occupy my time until it was done. Jack Daniels and I offer you a toast. You were a true friend.

Ridiculous Lawsuit of the Day

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heroes_%28TV_series%29

Scroll to the bottom of the article and read the section titled "Emerson Lawsuit."

We're talking about fucking garbage disposals here. I don't know about anyone else, but I would actually be less inclined to purchase an Emerson disposal if her hand had come out intact. After all, who wants an underpowered garbage dispsoal? All kinds of crap falls down my sink, and I don't want to have to deal with clogs.

Plus, Emerson should be looking at this as a free public service announcement. Hopefully this scene will encourage people not to put their hand in something that's obviously dangerous, as we all know that most of the idiots out there don't know that something is dangerous unless the television tells them.

Some day, when my multiple Interweb endeavours have made me a multi-billionaire, I will make it a point to sue anyone who annoys me by suing someone else over something stupid. So look out garbage disposals, smokers, and parents of fat children...Scott Colby's coming for you!

P.S. - I wanted to write about the Wii tonight, but it seemed too easy. Every game review I've read has characterized the controls as gimmicky at best and prohibitive at the worst. In Zelda, they've been described as seeming "tacked on." Every launch title, as I've predicted, is full of gimmicky mini games, and most of them haven't scored particularly well with critics. Did I call it or what?

Sunday Night Bulleted List

• Am I the only person being driven completely crazy by the new NFL rules against celebrations? In the first four minutes of the Bears-Giants game such a bullshit call made me want to put my head through the coffee table. After Brandon Jacobs scored for the Giants, he shoved the ball up his jersey and rubbed it lovingly as if was his unborn child...and the ref threw the flag. Let me get this straight: he wasn't taunting the other team, attempting to piss off the fans, or delaying the game...he was promoting good parenting. And yet he was flagged? What the hell is this crap? It's a fucking touchdown, the rarest of all the main scoring plays in sports (I'm not counting soccer, cuz that shit's boring like golf). When you score a touchdown, you should be encouraged to celebrate as long as it doesn't involve any of those three factors I mentioned above. If you're a big fat defensive lineman who picked up a fumble and rumbled 50 yards for the score, you should be given a few seconds to shake what yo mama gave you. If you're a creative wide receiver, you should be allowed to Riverdance or call your agent or boogie with a few cheerleaders. These guys are athletes, but they're also entertainers. Let them have their fun. And there should be awards at the end of the season for the best celebration.
• So the Red Sox are rumored to the leading bidder for that Japanese pitcher. They're going to pay his team somewhere around $45 million just for the rights to talk to this guy, then they're probably going to pay him somewhere around $14 million a year for the next four or five years. What makes him so special? He throws a Gyroball, which moves through the strike zone like an Italian sandwich (hahahahahahahahahaha). Seriously, though, I've got $50 that says he's the next Hideki Irabu. Let the Yankees have him, so A-Rod and Carl Pavano can have another loser to hang out with.
  
• Is it just me, or does it seem like John Madden has gained about 35 IQ points since last season? He finally sounds more intelligent than my coffee pot, although the Best Toaster Ever still has him beat. He has yet to completely ruin a game for me this season, a feat he used to accomplish almost every other week. I've almost enjoyed his commentary the last few weeks, though I still think they should add Jerry "The King" Lawler to the booth team so someone's there to make lewd comments about the cheerleaders.
  
• My roommate just told me he had a dream about Flava Flav. And I quote: "I was following him somewhere, and we were just The Shit." Needless to say, I'm extremely jealous. Also, I hereby move that "The Shit" is a proper noun and should henceforth be capitalized.
  
• Am I the only one who finds it very amusing that a bunch of dorks are lining up outside electronics stores so they can pay $250 to play with their Wii?
• I'm also extremely confused as to why anyone is bothering with the PlayStation 3 right now. If someone like me can't name a single game that's being released at launch, something's wrong.
• When you're slightly drunk, no television show is as amusing as the Munsters.
  

I hereby request that you kick me in the head if...

• I ever become too "sophisticated" to be at least mildly amused by professional wrestling.
• I ever lose a quality meal/yacht ticket like Britney through my own asshole tendencies (although male gold diggers everywhere are relieved that they no longer have to consider Mr. Federline the equivalent of their pope).
• you ever catch me drinking PBR or Bud Light at the Mission.
• I ever become one of those assholes who thinks that stopping his car square in the middle of the crosswalk has replaced blowing donuts in the principal's lawn as the coolest thing you could possibly do with your car. You see that shorter line before the crosswalk? Yeah, the painter didn't miss. That's where you're supposed to stop, jackass.
  
• I ever start using the word respect more than five times a day, hence rendering it meaningless whenever it passes through my lips.
• I switch to MySpace.
• I decide that goat cheese is a good idea. Anyone who has spent any time around a goat should know better than to eat something that comes out of one.
• my children or my children's children decide Jar Jar Binks is their favorite Star Wars character.
• you ever catch me paying a cover that's more than 5 bucks.
• I ever vote for someone merely for the sake of voting. People shouldn't vote unless they genuinely like one candidate or flat out despise their pick's opponent. Along those same lines, any politician who really cares about the nation should be embarassed about winning an election where less than 75% of his or her town/county/district/state/country goes to the polls, because if that's the case then he or she obviously wasn't particularly compelling.
  
• I ever begin to suspect that going to Wentworth to get my Computer Science degree rather than going somewhere else for a Journalism degree was a bad idea. Actually, before you kick me, sit me down in front of Fox News, MSNBC, or any nightly newscast. If I still think I should've gone for that Journalism degree, just fucking shoot me.
• I become one of those people who can't stay in one bar for more than half an hour.
• I begin to consistently use "I'm tired, I think I'm getting old" as an excuse for not going/staying out before I'm thirty-five years old. Being legitimately worn out is one thing...blaming it on the fact that you're 25 is another.
• I don't stop complaining and go to bed right now.
  

Way to grow a pair, Senator Chafee

http://www.cnn.com/2006/POLITICS/11/10/bolton.congress/index.html

What do you think the odds are that this guy would've put up such a stink if he hadn't lost his seat for next year?

He's essentially saying one of two things with this:

1. He was too much of a pussy to go against the party line on this before he lost.
2. He's blaming W for his loss and looking to get an ounce of revenge before he leaves.

Although I would rather hire some hobo off the street as our ambassador to the U.N. than this Bolton guy, I have to take issue with Chafee. If he really, truly opposes Bolton's appointment, he should've said something a long fucking time ago.

Speaking of which...why the hell is it taking so long to finalize a new ambassador to the United Nations? It seems like we've been hearing about this guy forever. Shouldn't filling this position be a priority? I mean, this is only the person who's going to be the immediate face of our nation in the international community. It may not be as important as gay marriage or violence in videogames...but shouldn't it have been close to the top of the list of shit to do?

I'm beginning to suspect it may be time to write a manifesto and found my own political party...

So long Nelly, Kelly, and Natasha...

...Britney's available, and she's worth more than all three of you put together.

Now here's the big, interesting Internet rumor:

K-Fed's been making appearances on WWE Raw to try to draw attention to his new album, and in the process he's started a feud with World Champion John Cena that has lead to a match on January 1st. Supposedly Federline showed Britney a tape of his escapades into sports entertainment last week...and she laughed her ass off and made fun of him. He started throwing shit around, and she left with the kids and decided to dump his ass.

Regardless of how true this is, the ammunition that this divorce is going to provide the WWE is absolutely ridiculous. I cannot wait to see the man who was once the world's greatest male gold digger get made fun incessantly, opening the door for someone deserving - mainly myself - to stake a claim to that title.

Write In Scott Colby for Everything!

As you glumly make your way to the polls today, mulling over whether to vote for a jackass or an asshole, one name should echo clearly in your mind: Scott Colby.

I hereby announce my candidacy for whatever governmental position you as voters feel I should have, from secretary of your local PTA all the way to United States Senator. And don't worry about concerns over my state of residency...if an ugly old witch like Hillary can fake her way into New York, a charismatic, ruggedly handsome man such as myself should be able to fake his way into Idaho without a problem (hell, they've been begging me to move there for years!).

"But Scott Colby," you say, "What qualifies you to work in a branch of government other than janitorial services?"

Absolutely nothing. But I could ask that same question of the majority of the candidates out there right now and get that same answer.

Which means if I want to get elected, I have to separate myself from the rest of the toilet scrubbers out there. If elected, I promise to:

• Hack into the computers of my opposition, hide all their icons, and replace their desktop wallpaper with a screenshot of their computer when it used to have all their icons.
• Deliver all speeches in iambic pentameter, and always end with "Whatcha gonna do when Scott Colby runs wild on you!?"
  
• Create attack ads that aren't super cheesy.
• Write to Mr. T so he can come fix all the drama in the government, because jibber-jabber never defended no Constitution.
  
• Hire hot interns.
• Create a new tax cut bill that is based solely on the size of your yacht.
• Dress and smell like a hobo during voting sessions.
• Steal the lunch of every Republican I work with at least once.

Think that's absurd? Really? Tell me it's worse than listening to our current leaders debate things like gay marriage and violence in video games when they could be doing something about poverty, health insurance, or that asshole president who thinks he can do whatever the fuck he wants - and do it with a straight face.

So remember - when you go to the polls today, don't vote for a jackass or an asshole. Vote for a jerk off. Vote Scott Colby!

P.S. Please vote no on Question 1. The increase in levels of pretentiousness that will result from more stores being able to sell wine will be unbearable.