Jimmy Fallon is going to get Fired

I watched Jimmy Fallon's monologue last night for the first time and it was fairly obvious to me that he won't be around long. It wasn't just that his jokes weren't very funny (they weren't, it was like Weekend Update without a desk and without Tina Fey writing your material for you), it was more that his delivery was like when a telemarketer calls you and starts delivering a long, boring speech and keeps losing his place in the speech so there are a bunch of strange unnecessary pauses while he re-finds his place. There were even a couple of times when he delivered a punchline and nobody laughed. At all. So then he stared out at the audience, perplexed and afraid, and then a couple people would laugh because they got unconfortable with all the silence.

This whole thing doesn't surprise me very much, I've never been a fan of this guy. He's the only guy in TV history who creates an entire blooper roll by himself every 20 minutes. Breaking character and laughing during 65% of your sketches isn't appropriate. I don't care how funny you think Horatio Sanz is. (Also, Horatio Sanz isn't very funny either, but he probably would have done better than Jimmy Fallon because he has that whole "Fat and Jolly" thing going for him. You ever see a really fat dude lumbering around? Doesn't that make you smile?)

Anyhow, the sun is going to set on Jimmy Fallon pretty soon so I'd like to offer up this suggestion for a new host. Norm McDonald. He wouldn't even need guests. I think I'm a television visionary.

My Friends at the Gym

I go to the gym at about the same time every morning. It's become part of my morning routine which right now looks like this:

• Wake up


• Stretch kinks out of body from 5 hours of sleeping in contorted position because kids are in bed too


• Poop


• Get everybody dressed


• Let the puppy out 800 times


• Put the puppy in his kennel and listen to him shriek in anguish


• Go to the gym

So since this has become part of my morning, I've noticed that there are other people who are always at the gym at the same time as me. They are my friends even though they don't know it.

American Girl Guy- Goofy little guy with glasses. Runs around doing many exercises very quickly. Always steals people's machines unknowingly. Finishes workout by doing 5 million deep knee bends while staring at himself in mirror.

Weird Exercise Guy- Does every exercise while standing on one foot. I can't figure out which part of his body he's working out. Has a Tom Selleck mustache. Wears old Converse All Stars.

The Grunter- Very large, strong person. Let's us all know how strong he is by loudly grunting when he does any lift, even calf raises. Always chewing on a myoplex bar.

Hot Milf with fake boobies- Always doing cardio and looking hot while doing it. Amy says she saw her spraying hairspray and putting on makeup before she worked out. Probably has very high self esteem.

The Talker- Attractive, muscular fellow who hangs out talking to girls and never seems to actually work out. Probably the dude equivalent of Hot Milf with fake boobies.

GI Joe- Guy who wears the same stupid camouflage shirt every day. Maybe he has 10 of those shirts, who knows.

Funny looking guy with Giant Head- This is me.

Old Man who Hates Me- This old guy who always asks me "are you going to use that?" when I'm resting in between sets, then when I say yes, walks away disgustedly. I hate him. I hope he suffers a prolapsed rectum while dead lifting. Wears black socks and looks disheveled

Paul- This super cheerful guy who tried to be my best buddy for a while until I ignored him for months and he gave up. Wears shirts with beer logos on them. Looks like Sven Sundgard.

The Farter- I don't know who this is but once a week he stinks up the entire workout area. Everybody hates him and wants to kill him. His farts smell like diseased roadkill.

David Crosby- Guy who looks like David Crosby. Wears short shorts. Makes sure that every exercise he does incorporates an exercise ball somehow. Once had a fork in his pocket while lifting.

Canteen Boy- Carries a canteen-like thing instead of a water bottle around his neck like he just came from the BWCA. Lifts girlish amounts of weight.

Suspicious Guy- In between sets looks around suspiciously at people. Always wears black. Leaves his towel laying around instead of throwing it in the laundry. Meticulously writes down everything he does while staring around to see who is looking at him.

Crazy rapping IPod guy- Guy who loudly raps along with his IPod so that everyone can hear him. Scares women with his loudness. Also dances a little bit. Can do many pull-ups.

So there you have it. Many different types at the gym.

I am a little bit psychic

Did you ever just get a feeling about something that was going to happen? Your sixth sense starts to kick in. Isn't that fun when your sixth sense is right on the button. For instance, have you ever been walking in a busy area, where there are anonymous people all around you, and suddenly for some unknown reason your brain locks in on one specific, normal looking guy and you think to yourself "I betcha this guy is a fucking lunatic." Then as the guy walks past he says, "ramilargghhanationstationdogshitleaveawaydonniewahlberg!!" to nobody in particular, and you wonder how you could have possibly known the guy was crazy before you heard him rambling. That's a lot of fun.

I had a sixth sense moment today. I was about to enter Chipotle when I noticed an older man walking with a younger man. The older man was probably about 60 and the younger man was probably about 25. I looked at them and thought to myself, "I bet the old man has sex with the young man." It was kind of a disturbing thought. Right as I thought that, the two men kissed each other. I felt like the smartest man in the world. I also felt kind of grossed out. I hope my sixth sense tells me what stocks to buy some day.

Pointless News Stories

Recently I read a story on the online version of the Star Tribune. It was a headline story. Basically the story was this. Some guy was mad at the city of St Louis Park because he had to wait at a stoplight on Excelsior Blvd for what he thought was an excessive amount of time to take a right to go visit his mother at a nursing home. He wrote the city an angry letter telling them this. Their response was, essentially, "Stick it up your ass buddy, it's a long light on purpose." He was disgruntled.

That was the lead story on the Strib online for a period of time. I cannot for the life of me figure out why this was even in the news, let alone the lead story. I think about 1% of the general population cared. But, because I've always wanted to be a columnist for a bankrupt newspaper, I'm going to write my own pointless story and submit it. It will probably win a Pulitzer prize.

Fat Guy Loves Eating

By Brian

Not many people can polish off 2 pizzas, a Chicago dog, 14 glasses of Clamato juice, and a bucket of chicken gizzards without a big long nap in the middle, but Seymour Jones, 41, of rural Butte County, is not many people, although he weighs as much as many people.

Tipping the scales at 562 pounds, Jones lists his favorite activities as buying food, chewing the food, swallowing the food, and then searching for more food. "It's an all consuming passion," remarked Jones, in between handfuls of Triscuits.

Jones has always been large, even when he was a baby. "My mother had to put an ironing board underneath me to breast feed," he chuckled. "And my dad, well he slapped me around a lot because he knew I couldn't catch him, but that's sort of beside the point."

To keep up his massive girth, Jones must take in over 22,000 calories a day, enough to feed an orphanage for a February (not including the leap year day). It's not just normal, store bought food that Jones eats either. In 2007 he managed to eat and fully digest the entire contents of his attic, a statue commemerating the life of Anna Nicole Smith, and the entire 1968 Harlem Globetrotters basketball team. "They squirmed a lot, and I couldn't get 'Sweet Georgia Brown' out of my head for a month afterward," he remarked.

Just recently, Jones was inducted into the Eating Hall of Fame. "It was the happiest moment of my life," he said. Yes, the world is Seymour Jones' oyster, and he's always hungry.

Now I send this to the Star Tribune and wait for the accolades to come pouring in.

Brian is an accidental Jerk.

So I was at the store this morning buying lemonade and vaseline, and when I'd finished browsing and texting people strange messages, I got into line at the checkout aisle. There was a lady in front of me standing by the check writing board so I stood back about 5 feet from her. Gave her a wide berth. Didn't want her to think I was trying to steal her banking information or anything (especially since I was).

All of a sudden I could literally feel a person standing behind me. He was standing way too close to me. I could feel his hot breath on my neck. This made me very uncomfortable. I like my space. So I moved up a little bit. The person moved up too. This was getting weird. He was like one inch behind me. So I moved up a little bit more. He moved too. Now I was upset. I couldn't move up anymore because then I'd be infringing on the territory of the lady in front of me. That wouldn't be OK.

After about 30 seconds he still hadn't moved back. I could still feel his breath. This would not stand. I turned around to face him.

Me: Can you just back off a little!!??
Guy: I only got THREEEEEEE Dollars!!

I had just yelled at a retarded guy. Great. Now I am the world's biggest jerk. People were looking at me with expressions of shame.

Me: Oh, um..... nevermind.
Guy: THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

I took my lemonade and vaseline and left. I'm a jerk.

Brian is scared of crack.

I have a confession to make. I'm really scared of illegal drugs. I'm not just afraid of taking them and then freaking out and running naked through a carpet store, although that would probably be less fun and more consequential than it sounds. I'm even afraid of seeing drugs just laying around.

I've seen pot lots of times so that's not so scary anymore although it still makes me pause a little in apprehension. It reminds me a lot of this kid who was a scary bully back in Elementary School, but then I grew up and by 10th grade I had like 6 inches and 50 lbs on him. Even though he was now this little weinery guy, and I could have easily whooped his butt, there was a little part of me that was still cautious around him. He's a lot like pot.

But one time I was at a party and I saw some crack. It was just a little pile of crack laying on this table. There were some people I knew at the table, and some I didn't know, and presumably, they were going to smoke up that crack. I hadn't figured out it was crack yet, so I didn't know to be afraid.

Me: What that stuff on the table? Peanuts?
Crack Dude: Dude, it's crack!
Me: Oh.
Me (thinking to myself): Ohmigod it's crack! Let's get the hell out of here!! AAAAHHHHH!

It was pretty scary. I was kind of worried that the crack could like, jump up and get me or something. I suppose that's a somewhat irrational fear, but just to be on the safe side I quickly went to a non-crack part of the party.

Then one time I went into a house that had supposedly at one time contained a meth lab. Now I've read stories that say if there's a meth lab in your house that the meth sits in your walls for 500 years before it comes out. So that didn't make me very happy. I was worried that each breath I took, I was inhaling a little second hand meth. I was trying to breathe into my sweatshirt but if meth sticks to a house for 500 years it can probably penetrate a sweatshirt. So I got out of that house fast.

Yeah, I guess you could say I'm really scared of drugs. So, when you invite me over, please make sure to put your crack, heroin, meth, pot, sherm, quaaludes, coke, silver paint, peyote, opium poppies and toads that you lick away so that I don't see them and get frightened. Thanks.

From the Desk of Tony the Idiot.

Here's something that really bugs me that I bet a lot of you can relate. Did you ever do a contract hit on a guy, and then afterwards you gotta put plastic down in your trunk and secure it real good so he doesn't drip all over, and then you gotta lug his big heavy body up into the trunk, and then you gotta drive for ever out to some random place. Ugh, it's already taken up like 4 hours.

So then you get there and you start digging this big hole for him and that takes like 2 hours, and you're all sweaty and dirty and tired, and you always forget to bring some Aquafina or something so your mouth is all dry and you can't do anything about it, and then you finally turn around to get this guy out of the trunk and he's gone!!!

Isn't that irritating?? You do all this work and the guy runs off. Don't you always check under the car and in the back seat? The guy is never there though. Then you always think to yourself, "I shouldn't have my Ipod on full blast when I'm digging graves." But you know the next time you'll wear your Ipod again. You can't dig a grave without a Ipod.

So then you kinda half heartedly search through the corn, but corn hides guys pretty well, so then you just give up and drive back. Jimmy TwoLegs is always so pissed too when you tell him. It's not like he never made a mistake. What about the Tranny in Hoboken Jimmy, what about that huh?

Aww, life is tough sometimes. It's a good thing I can crochet, that's all I know.