Every night, my kids get to watch a TV show before they go to bed. Recently, my son has been saying \”Jesus, Jesus, Jesus\” every night when the show gets started. I thought \”hey, maybe the kid is getting an early start in religion.\”

What I realized later is that he was actually responding to an advertisement that runs before every episode of the show. That would be an ad for Chuck E. Cheese\’s. He\’s saying \”cheese\’s\” over and over and over.

So it looks like it\’s going to take thousands of dollars\’ worth of a Catholic education for me to teach him the difference between this guy:

And this guy:

From Pennsylvania, a great new law enforcement strategy – in the interest of justice (and strengthening the penal system):

Offended by a masseuse\’s offer to go beyond routine rubbing into something downright unprintable, the spa customer went to the state police and offered his services: He would take on the role of confidential informant and gather evidence of prostitution at North Whitehall\’s Shiatsu Spa.He ended up having sex four times in the name of justice.When that fact emerged this week during a Lehigh County Court hearing for one of two spa employees charged with prostitution in the 2006 case, it cast light on a surprisingly common and irony-rich investigative procedure: having civilians pay for sex during crackdowns on sex-for-pay.

Someone call J.B. Van Hollen – I\’ll take one for the team and head up this important investigation, one arrest at a time. Knowing me, it won\’t take long.

Wait… what?

It was my son\’s second birthday today. Not too hard to tell which of his gifts were bought for him by his dad. (And if I ever figure out who it is, I\’ll be sure to thank him.)

Don\’t ask where he learned the cool \”point at the camera\” trick.

Des Moines police investigate attack by onion

oaI headed over to my local auto parts store yesterday to pick up a tire gauge. I figured I might want to inflate my tires at least once a year, and it might be helpful to know how much air I was putting in them.

As I got out of my car, there was a store employee standing by a customer\’s car, looking at the engine. The customer happened to be a gorgeus girl wearing a tube top shirt. The male employee was pointing at something in her engine, and said \”yeah, I can replace that for about eight bucks.\”

Now you know damn well auto stores don\’t even think about fixing anything for under a hundred bucks. Is there any question that if it was me standing there (tube top or not), I would be looking at a $250 repair? In fact, that might be a good part time job for hot girls – drive ugly man cars to the shop to get a better deal on repairs, then take a cut of the savings. (Actually, I\’ve seen studies that show women get worse deals on auto repairs, since mechanics assume they know less about engines. Break out the charm, girls.)

But this also got me to thinking about girls and cars in general. Haven\’t you noticed that girls never drive really crappy cars? I\’m not talking about cars that might not be the latest model. I\’m talking about reeeeeeeeaaaaaaaallllllly crappy cars. The ones with three wheels and more rust than paint.

My first car was a 1981 Chevette that my dad bought from the neighbors for $200. It had a bumper sticker that said \”I Brake For Unicorns\” and sheep fur seat covers. I then upgraded and bought a rusty $700 1983 Datsun from some guy in downtown Milwaukee. It had a muffler that used to drag and spark all over the highway – so I had to keep wire coat hangers in my trunk to wire it up when it broke loose. I used to drive it across country, and it had no interior dashboard lights – so I had to use a lighter to see how fast I was going at night. (Bumper sticker: \”A Grouchy German is a Sour Kraut.\”)

And you never see girls with cars like these. Why is that? Is it because dads and husbands are more concerned about the safety of their girls? Are women just more willing to spend money on a more secure car? Do women demand a better ride because they\’re more likely to be hauling the kids around?

Regardless of the reason, it is clear that men are willing to put up with a lot more crappiness out of their car. Unless they\’re bald, of course.

We all like the thrill of a pennant chase, but don\’t hold your breath. Here\’s why:

Tonight\’s game, top of the 7th, one out. Dave Bush has been cruising, and has a 2-1 lead. There\’s one out and Ned Yost elects to let Bush hit for himself, presumably because he\’s going to keep using him. Bush actually gets a hit, but the inning fizzles.

Bottom of the 7th starts, and the pitcher is… Scott Linebrink?

As you may know, I am certainly no fan of Linebrink\’s. But if you were going to bring him in, what in the hell was Bush doing batting for himself in the top of the inning? And why, after showing you were committed to him staying in the game by letting him bat, would you pull a pitcher that was cruising through inning after inning – especially with a suspect bullpen?

Naturally, Linebrink comes in, immediately gives up a hit, runs the count full, and gets the hitter to line out, doubling up Carlos Lee on first. Linebrink then gives up another hit, then walks a batter. After Yost has to yank Linebrink\’s ass out of the game, Brian Shouse gives up the game tying hit.

This is why all the Brewer fans can stop their worrying now. If the Brewers have a manager that can\’t even figure out the simplest of maneuvers – and continues to use Derrick Turnbow in any capacity other than carrying bags to and from the team bus, they won\’t sniff the playoffs. And it really is too bad. Thanks for the season, guys.

UPDATE: Some more questions…

How many times is Ryan Braun going to be pulled for a defensive replacement, only to have his position come up again?

Top of the 9th, you\’re down two runs, and have a full bench – and you let the .231 hitting Craig Counsell hit for himself? Sure, Weeks bailed him out – but why just give away an out to start the inning?

Matt Wise comes in in the 10th and gives up two hits. First and second, no out with Carlos Lee coming up. By not pulling him for Cordero at that point (who had warmed up), you\’re telling everyone that you\’re perfectly willing to concede defeat.

With Wise in, there were men on first and third with one out. A run can beat you. Why wouldn\’t you walk the .323 hitter (Pence), to set up the force at any base and make the worse hitter (Wigginton, .282) beat you?

As of a couple weeks ago, 80% of my diet now consists of Simply Asia pre-cooked noodle bowls. They\’re a huge step up from other noodles, although the name sounds more like an order made to an escort service than a food product.

Before last week, I had barely heard of D.L. Hughley, and couldn\’t name a single thing he had been in. After reading this ballsy interview with The Onion, I decided I should seek out some more of his work. Of course, he has yet to prove that he\’s really funny – just that he\’s not afraid to speak his mind about the disgrace of race hustlers and the damage done by the victimhood industry.

Some clips, beginning with Hughley addressing protestors complaining about derogatory remarks he made about the Rutgers women\’s basketball team:

My good friend Brad Boycks made his radio debut on the Vicki McKenna show on last Friday\’s \”week in review\” program. He was on with guest host Brian Schimming, mostly discussing the 6th anniversary of 9/11 and the War in Iraq. He\’s clearly a bastard, since he sounds relaxed and does a great job – whereas I have yet to find a way not to embarrass myself on-air.

Listen here.

My buddy Gooch (you may remember him from the Packer game last year) came up with a couple tickets for the Wisconsin/Citadel football game at Camp Randall this Saturday. Since he lives in South Carolina and has relatives that went to The Citadel, the tickets were in their section. In fact, they were front row – almost field level.

Sitting with the Citadel fans was actually fairly interesting. Seeing as how their school is a tiny, state-sponsored military school of 2,000 students, they were in awe of the spectacle of Camp Randall (and of the existence of cheese curds).

The most interesting aspect of the game, however, was the Citadel cheerleaders, who were about 15 feet in front of us.

You may recall the fact that The Citadel used to be for male cadets only, until that policy was challenged in 1994 by Shannon Faulkner. The federal government threatened to withhold funds from the school unless it complied with the order to go co-ed. In 1996, four more female cadets enrolled, with two eventually dropping out. The numbers have climbed slowly since then.

At the game, I asked some of The Citadel\’s fans when they went co-ed. \”1996. Because of the f***ing federal government,\” one guy sneered. It became clear at that point that the new policy remains wildly unpopular, especially among alumni.

Before they went co-ed, I was told, The Citadel used to hire out cheerleaders from other local small colleges for their games. It was clear that now, their cheerleaders came from within the ranks of their cadets. These women were… and there\’s really no way to massage this… awfully plain-looking. Their cheerleading couldn\’t compel a dog to sniff itself.

Naturally, they were heckled by the crowd – only more so by the Citadel fans themselves, who resent their very presence at the college. After halftime, they took their sweat pants off – which compelled one fan behind me to start a \”put them back on!\” chant.

Things got even worse by comparison after the Badger cheerleaders put on a little show for our section. The Citadel fans were delighted with seeing \”real\” cheerleaders. But at that point, I put my foot down. I pointed out that the Wisconsin cheerleaders are bred genetically to be cheerleaders, while the Citadel cheerleaders are cadets – who at some point, will be fighting for our country. In a few years, the Badger cheerleaders will be pouring shots on the rocks in a bar, while the Citadel cheerleaders will be shooting at Iraquis in Anbar.

So sure, they may not be that great – but they\’re not supposed to be. They\’re supposed to be learning how to defend our country, not their football team\’s goal line. Asking those women to be cheerleaders would be like asking them to play offensive line – it just doesn\’t fit.

So here you have these poor young women who aren\’t welcome by their own fans, in a 90,000 seat stadium, where their team was undoubtedly a sacrificial lamb (they actually kept it uncomfortably close for most of the game). They deserve more praise than anyone out there on that field.

[…]

And on a related note, it really is hard to root against a military team. They obviously have no chance against teams like the Badgers, as they have strict height and weight requirements for service (somehow, The Air Force has been the exception). Those are the types of games you\’d like to win by a point – running it up against a military academy seems to be a little unsettling. Even more so, you don\’t want to see a cadet get hurt badly, as it could affect his service.

At one point, a Badger landed a late hit on a Citadel Bulldog. I figured it was bad form to cheap shot the military – best to leave that up to Moveon.org.

After being on my deathbed for two days (I completely slept through Friday), I needed a good sports weekend. Fortunately, Wisconsin fans got wins from the Badgers, Packers, and a couple from the Brewers (but special thanks to the pathetic St. Louis Cardinals, who have now become the Larry Craig of the National League).

There was, however, one sporting event that eclipsed all others in terms of human drama: it was my daughter\’s first-ever soccer game in her 3-and 4-year old league. In fact, it was better attended than any of the WNBA championship series games to date.

I was prepared for this, as I had been videotaping the opposing team for weeks, Belichick-style. My daughter had never played in any kind of organized sporting event, so I had no idea how she would react. She didn\’t start, and didn\’t really seem all that interested in watching the game before going in. Naturally, this being a West Madison kid soccer league, you have a lot of kids named things like \”Jericho\” and \”Sapphire.\” Most of the kids in the game were unaware that the game was actually going on. Or who their birth parents are.

When finally called upon, my daughter was too shy to go in the game. The ref said I could run next to her if I wanted, so I did – although I know I ran the risk of looking like one of these total a-hole parents that directs their children from within a foot at all times. But finally, she forgot about me, and just ran around kicking the ball. She even scored a goal that was waved off because of some technicality about being too close to the goal or something. Since it\’s a city league, I think it is only fair that the Mayor\’s office hear about this injustice.

Sometime in the middle of the game, her two-year old brother practiced his own brand of hooliganism by running out on the field. He was standing still, which usually means one thing – he was filling his diapers. But when I thought about it, that\’s the same thing Derrick Turnbow does every time he runs out on the field, and he gets paid a lot of money. Maybe there\’s a future for my boy, after all.

Near the end of the game, one kid just wandered off the field, leaving my daughter\’s team a player short. She pulled a Scottie Pippen and refused to go back in the game, citing the deliciousness of her watermelon as the prime reason.

All in all, I couldn\’t be more proud of her. I showed her a YouTube video of Mia Hamm, and she said she wants to be as good as she is. I figure a few more weeks of intense training should do the trick – as long as she gives up the watermelon.

There\’s an old Simpsons episode where Homer meets controversial director John Waters. Around the dinner table, Marge gently tries to tell Homer that Waters is gay. She says \”um, Homey, I think he enjoys the company of men.\” Homer then enthusiastically whoops out \”WHO DOESN\’T?\”

Men getting married worry about what it\’s going to be like to not be able to date different women for the rest of their lives. But honestly, the thing I\’ve missed most is the time I got to spend with my guy friends. All the gross jokes and insults you throw around casually – trust me, those don\’t really work on your wife. Then again, if you never really dated multiple women before you got married, you don\’t really have anything to miss. For you, long gone are days like the one in college where you begged one of your ugly platonic girl friends to make out with you, just so you could see what it was like – and got turned down. (Don\’t worry, there\’s at least a three percent chance that never happened to me.)

Anyway, I was in the car for a long ride with some guy friends last week, and it all came back to me. Long car rides are the birthplace of some of the best guy conversations. Naturally, the silence was eventually broken by some giggling and the rolling down of the window. You can figure out what the need for fresh air means. This act led to the following exchange:

\”Damn man, are we in Kaukauna?\”

(Editor\’s note – Kaukauna, Wisconsin has a number of paper mills, which makes it smell like the inside of Gilbert Brown\’s colon after a hard boiled egg eating competition.)

Laughing: \”Hey man, are you making paper in your ass?\”

More laughing: \”I hope they\’re making toilet paper in your colon, because you\’re going to need to wipe after that one.\”

And on and on it went. Pure comedy gold. That\’s what I miss.

And on a somewhat-related note:

Is there a more thankless job than working for the Kaukauna Chamber of Commerce? Exactly what is their motto to attract people to live there?

\”Kaukauna: After a Year, You Don\’t Even Notice!\”

\”Kaukauna: You Smell Good By Comparison!\”

\”Kaukauna: You\’ll Be Drunk on the Way Back From the Packer Game, So Then Might Be a Good Time to Visit!\”

Just got back into town, checked my e-mail, and found that the Journal Sentinel had denied my application to be a community columnist. Oh well, it was a long shot anyway. Good luck to whoever did get the gig (I think there are like 30 of them).

Caution: Only read this post if you like money. And lots of it.

I think we can all agree that the best part of a root beer float occurs when the ice cream melts and mixes with the root beer. When they\’re separate, they are just ice cream and root beer. But when they mix, you get a magical tasting concoction that doesn\’t occur elsewhere in nature.

I\’m telling you – if someone were able to figure out a way to bottle the ice cream/root beer mix and sell it, I\’d buy it by the case. It would be a lot easier than having to find an ice cream stand on the run, then waiting for the chemical transformation to take place. It would be a license to print money.

I know this blog has degenerated into me bitching about the Brewers, but it has been for good reason. This quote in today\’s paper from recently-acquired reliever Scott Linebrink set me off:

As so often happens for the Brewers, no matter what the score is in the early going, the final innings were adventuresome. Houston scored two unearned runs in the seventh off reliever Scott Linebrink, who heard his share of boos when Yost opted not to pull him with the bases and one down.

\”There\’s not a lot of teams I\’ve been on in a division race, where you\’re in control of the game and don\’t give up the lead and you still get booed,\” Linebrink said.

So for Linebrink (who my friend Jay has dubbed \”LineDrive\”), loading the bases with one out and giving up two runs is known as \”being in control.\” Hey – he didn\’t give up the three-run lead, right?

Here\’s a memo to this jackass: fully one-quarter of the Brewers\’ losses this year have been because of the bullpen – which his acquisition was supposed to help. Instead, he\’s exacerbated their bullpen problems. In fact, I think there\’s some question as to whether Linebrink knows if he\’s playing for the right team – I heard he was found in the Astros\’ locker room tapping his foot. After blowing 15 games where they were ahead by more than three runs, you\’d think he\’d understand fan frustration.

Linebrink\’s 2006 salary is listed as $1,365,000. So I\’ll strike a deal with Mr. Sensitive: He can pay $100 so he and his kids can come to my work to boo me, and I\’ll take the $1.3 million. In fact, I\’d be willing to go in to a game and walk the bases full for only $500,000. Think of the savings to the Brewers.

The fact that the Padres were so willing to part with this moron in the midst of their own playoff run says a lot. When teams in first place are unloading middle relief (which other teams are always trying to acquire around the trade deadline), an alarm should go off.

And if he\’s sensitive to booing, he should try being Derrick Turnbow for a day. I would boo Turnbow before he comes in the game, while he\’s in the game, when he leaves the game, when he leaves the stadium to walk out to his car, and while he\’s mowing his lawn at home. If I saw him ordering dinner on a date at a restaurant, I\’d walk up and boo him. \”You ordered the salmon? Boo! Boooooooo!\”