Sex Robots!

Hey everybody, this is a video I made with the site, Funny or Die.

It’s called ‘Sex Robots’ and contrary to the title, it’s a thoughtful piece about societal norms and the male libido. Plus, I’m in a bodysuit!

Please feel free to vote and pass this on to your friends if you enjoy it.

Your pal,

Dick Cheney.

http://FunnyOrDie.com/m/4lq8

Good thing I’m not like that anymore!

Well, the summer’s over. Labor Day is here and gone.

When I was a kid, this was a big deal. Not only were my carefree days of swimming and riding bikes over, I had to go back to school.

For a smart, nerdy kid, I really detested school. And contrary to what my mom would tell you, it wasn’t because I wasn’t being challenged by the curriculum, it was because I was lazy.

Good thing I’m not like that anymore!

Back then, I was a bit of a worrier. The first of June would come around and I would think, “You know, in a few weeks, they’ll start having back to school sales. The summer is almost over!”

Good thing I’m not like that anymore!

There was just something about summer.

At school, in Glastonbury, CT, I wasn’t very popular, but during the summer, at our shack we named “The House That Pip-pay Built”, I had like 5 or 6 friends!

Back before everyone was getting molested, we were free to do whatever we wanted. We’d wake up in the morning, play some Nintendo. Then we’d go swimming in the lake. We might take out a boat and go tubing. We’d ride our mountain bikes around the lake to the camp store at Burlingame State Park, or we’d cross the highway over to Ninigret, which had been a WWII airfield.

We’d trespass, we’d vandalize, we’d steal shit and light forest fires. Good clean fun.

I was the oldest of our group and sometimes my friend Chad and I would put on white khaki pants and hang out with the two older kids, by their van that they called “The Fuck Truck” because it had running lights and a retractable bed in the back. Also, a bubble window!

Back then, I was kind of a loser.

Good thing I’m not like that anymore!

So anyways, now I’m old and I live in Los Angeles where it’s basically summer all year long. I don’t have to go back to school, come September, but these kids today do and that means less people at Disneyland.

It also means less of the oppressive heat that I hate so much. It means lower electricity bills that I have to pay because I am a big boy now.

Pretty depressing, huh?

Every once in a while, I’ll catch a whiff of something on the wind. On a warm, yet cool late summer evening and it’ll take me back, just for a second. I’ll just get that feeling. The feeling of knowing you’re free, at least for a little while. No school, no job. Nothing to do but have fun and goof around.

If my girlfriend was here, she’d chime in with a sarcastic, “Good thing you’re not like that anymore!”

But if my life is so carefree and happy-go-lucky, how come I’m so miserable all the time? Why do I sit in the dark listening to Joni Mitchell songs over and over? And where the hell are my pills, anyway? Get off my lawn and get a job, you punks! When I was your age, I had to walk 12 miles to school in the snow! You kids today with your automobiles and your hair cream and your rock n’ roll.

Yes, summer’s over and in the past I would have made a big deal about it.

Good thing I’m not like that anymore.

Dear The Maid,

Dear The Maid,

Sorry I don’t know your name, but I’m sorta busy. We don’t all get to just spend our days goofing off in other peoples’ houses, you know.

Anyway, I’m sure you’re a great person and all, but can you please cut it out with that vacuum bullshit? It’s bad enough that I have to delay my nap for four hours to make sure you don’t steal anything, but now I’ve gotta listen to this racket??

I’m trying to get my picks in for my NFL pool!

I mean, Christ, this is ridiculous. Heard of a broom? Does the same job. No noise.

Problem solved.

I mean, how long does it take to clean a one bedroom luxury apartment? Seriously, I’m asking, I’ve never done it. It can’t take more than 20 or 30 minutes. So what the hell are you doing here the rest of the time?

‘Casing the joint’ so your ‘gang’ can come back later and rob me?

Pretending it’s your house and you’re rich like me?

I think the real answer is that you’re taking an extra long time so that I’ll feel guilty that you’re doing all this hard work for your 37 dollars (35 dollar flat rate plus tip).

So in summation, The Maid, I hope you think about how you’re ripping me off, forcing me to listen to that god-awful vacuum of yours and preventing me from getting my shit done so I can take a well-deserved, mid-afternoon nap.

I’m sleepy!

Sincerely, Steven Spielberg (no relation)

The Ace of Base Burger

OK, I know Ace of Base isn’t actually from the Netherlands (they’re from Switzerland), but try and name something that is, besides pot. Exactly.

So here is my old commercial, (sorta) dubbed into Dutch. What do I mean, ‘sorta’? Just watch and you’ll see.

Seriously, probably my proudest moment as an actor.

I’m so emo!

You ever get the tiniest sliver of a thought that gets stuck in your head and haunts you like a waking nightmare for months on end?

A feeling like you’re forgetting something or there’s something you neglected to do? Or there’s a song that’s driving you crazy and you can’t figure out why?

So there’s this little tune that they play on the radio every once in a while. I had to look up who it was and what the song was called. It was in that Twilight movie.

Anyway, there’s a part in it that sounded really familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. If you don’t want to listen to the whole song, you can skip to 2:35.

Man, that really sounds like something else… something I’ve heard before… many, many times…

Wait a minute, could it be?

That’s it! I finally remembered! Yay! I love when I can place something like that, when it’s been driving me crazy for so long.

Oh, and congratulations, dbags. You ripped off a theme park ride.

Dear Words With Friends Cheaters

This is an open letter, not just to the cheaters I play with on Words With Friends (you know who you are), but to all the cheaters of the world.

To every male athlete who didn’t quite measure up, so he went and tucked his wiener into his shorts and competed as a woman.

To every BP exec who thought, “Eh, let’s just skip those safety inspections and go eat some baby dolphin stew instead!”

For all those kids who didn’t get enough attention from their fathers so they made up some bullshit story about these poor, innocent priests molesting them. Just kidding.

But most of all, this is for every lying, cheating, son of a bitch who decides that just because you can go on a website and look up all the possible combinations of words you can make with the letters you have, that it’s OK to do so.

Well, fuck you.

Now I’m not one for hyperbole, but you sir, are worse than Hitler.

And who the fuck do you think you’re kidding?

You didn’t graduate high school, you use the word ‘like’ fifteen times per sentence, but you know that a ‘teres’ is ‘either of two muscles passing below the shoulder joint from the scapula to the upper part of the humerus‘?

Sure you do, Hitler.

“Oh, I remember hearing that on the History Channel or something!”

Wrong.

You looked it up.

Just admit it, you lying, thieving, despicable excuse for a piece of monkey excrement.

Play the game. Or if you can’t deal with the fact that I am smarter and more well-versed than you, don’t play the game.

But don’t insult my (vastly superior) intelligence like that. At least make it believable.

You could have played ‘set’ for 23 points. That wouldn’t have aroused my suspicion, but you got greedy. So now you’ve got 42 points and my undying hatred, instead.

This might be hard to believe, but I have something of a rage problem and it is getting harder and harder for me to convince the AT&T store that my iPhones are getting smashed into a million pieces by simple, normal wear and tear and not the uncontrollable, violent spasms of a lunatic on his last nerve.

In closing, let us remember, it’s called Words With Friends. And friends don’t cheat. And the ones who do tend to get cancer and have sparsely-attended funerals.

Just saying.

My thoughts on BBQ

Too many times, people look for the word “authentic” in things.

They’re not looking for something that is authentic, just something that says it’s authentic, because really, if something was genuinely authentic, would it need to advertise itself as such?

Take for example, BBQ.

There are many places in Los Angeles that claim to have authentic “southern-style” BBQ.

If you’re reading this and you’re from the south or you’ve ever visited the south for any extended amount of time, your laugh of derision is well-justified.

Which isn’t to say that there is no good BBQ in Los Angeles. It’s just different.

It accepts that it’s different, it doesn’t try to compete with the authentic. It does its own thing. It’s comfortable with that.

And that works.

Maybe it will never win as many awards or get as much recognition as the truly authentic, but then again, that’s not really the point, is it?

But I do love pretzels.

I got my iPad!!!

So everyone’s talking about this iPad thing. Apparently, it’s the “must have” electronic gizmo of the season.

I didn’t really see what the big deal was, but I’m a journalist, so I felt like I owed it to you, my readers, to give you the scoop.

I'm a sexy Asian lady!

Well, let me tell you right now, it was not easy to track one of these down! It’s almost like they’re not even out yet, or something.

Luckily, I was able to find one online. And at a bargain basement price, too! Just $450! (Well, plus another hundred for shipping).

I’ve only just now gotten it out of the box, but let me tell you, it easily lives up to the hype! I can play solitaire AND hearts – on the go! I can even play when I’m driving!

One of my favorite features of the iPad is how small it is. It can easily slip right into your pocket.

It’s also got a calculator which is great for figuring out tips.

So, in summation, the iPad is great. The future is now. Get one!

[Ed. Note: I know it says “iPaq” on my iPad, but I have been assured by the seller that it is just a typo on the part of the manufacturer.]


April Fool’s!!!

Instead of doing the same post I accidentally do each year, see here for an example, I decided this year I would do something entirely original!

So I wrote this note, folded it and then dropped it into the landlord’s box he has in the lobby for our rent checks!

Hilarious, right?

Well, when I told Lindsay about it, she didn’t think it was so hilarious. Here were her arguments, you can decide for yourself who was right:

  • It’s not a real “April Fool’s Joke” or even a “joke” at all, if you say that you’re not going to pay the rent and then, in fact, you don’t pay the rent. Which I didn’t, because I’m a little short right now. My thinking was that this hilarious joke might take the landlord’s mind off of the fact that we had stiffed him.
  • Everybody knows that our landlord is an alcoholic. He’s admitted as much. He’s trying to beat his addictions, but it hasn’t been easy for him. For me to say that he “reeks of gin” is a low-blow.
  • Ditto the feces thing. He has a weird condition where he actually “poops” out of his sweat glands. It’s gross, but he’s a nice guy and for me to bring that up is fucked up.
  • If I’m going to say such awful things about someone, why would I sign my real name? My argument to this was that he’d figure it out anyway, by simple deduction: whomever didn’t pay their rent was the perpetrator. So why not just get it over with? Plus, if he thought it was really funny, I wanted to take credit for it. She informed me that there were probably a lot of people in the building who hadn’t paid rent on time, because most of the people on Section 8 are deadbeats like us.

Whether she’s right or not, I figured I’d be a nice guy and go fish it out of the box, which I ended up having to smash to pieces. It made quite a ruckus. In my panic, I grabbed some of the other tenants’ rent checks, figuring that we could cash a few and then have the dough to pay our rent AND get that flatscreen we’ve been wanting. But of course, Ma Barker wasn’t down with that so we flushed them down the toilet since the cops are now investigating the whole incident as ‘grand larceny’.

Here’s to hoping the police don’t read my blog!