Here’s a cautionary tale that I personally lived through and wish to share to all of those that have a heart for wisdom and ears to listen. Heed my words, friends … [Read Column]

Growing Up Oklahoma: Part 2 (read part 1 here)

Saturdays were meant for early morning cartoons.  It was sorta that cosmic law that the best cartoons were saved for Saturdays.  And it also meant brownies.  Before my daddy and momma split up for good, we got brownies every Saturday.  They were the good kind, thick, rich, and gooey.  My daddy was the special cook of the house.  Sure my momma could make stuff, but everything had rice or noodles in way or the other. [Read Column]

The Wiggles started in 1991 with three guys at Macquarie Uni in the early education program. Apparently, they were the only 3 dudes in a class of 600 women. Go figure. Anyways, as part of a class project, they put together a CD of children’s music. A few of them had roots in a successful Australian pop band, known as the Cock Roaches.  Not exactly what I would have chosen … maybe the Ebola Viruses would have been better.

Anyways, they needed a keyboardist for their project so Anthony Field contacted his former band mate, Jeff Fatt.  And, as they say Down Under, Bob’s your uncle.  The Wiggles were born.  They have become the most successful Australian music act, netting over $50 million annually with tours, merchandise, theme park additions, and even foreign country Wiggle team franchisees (the Vàng Wiggle?).  Strangely enough, the Wiggles of all things have been spared the Australian reaction of the “tall poppy syndrome” and they are now apart of Aussie legend.

Not all has been smoothing sailing.  In 2006, the Yellow Wiggle (Greg Page) was diagnosed with a health disorder and he stepped down, allowing the new Yellow Wiggle (Sam Moran) to take his place.  And this got me thinking – the remaining original Wiggles are all over 45 years old.  It is clear that they want their enterprise to continue … so what are the Wiggles going to look like in 2015?

I’m glad you asked. [Read Column]

In the last month I have punched the expiration on three sets of jeans.  THREE!  These jeans had been with me for a minimum of four years.  The oldest I had bought my first year in the fraternity way back in 1997.  Thank you OSU financial aid.  The most recent was a pair my then-fiancee bought me in Warnambool when I visited for the first time in December 2004.  My first Aussie purchase.

It’s a sad thing to say goodbye to a well worn pair of denim jeans.  But ultimate that day will inevitably arrive and when it comes there is no denying it. Jeans depart our fashion world in one of two ways.  The first is a subtle fade – year after year of glorious service with the slow accumulation of stains, unraveling, broken zippers, little tears and patches.  These add up to a stylized, rugged look.  Then one day you take a look at your jeans and it occurs to you that they are no longer rugged, but ratty.  No longer chic, but old.  It’s like looking at Madonna one day and thinking, “geez, when did she get old lady elbow skin?”

The other way is the dramatic ‘event’.  Something tragic, sudden, and unexpected.  Yep, all three of my jeans suffered this disastrous fate, leaving my wardrobe far too soon.  And they all failed in the same manner.  Mind you, these were different styles, different brands, and different ages.  But inexplicably they all died the same way.  The back area on my right half ripped down the entire inside seam of the butt pocket.  Oh sure, it started as a little mess of white fabric in the top corner of the pocket – but for some reason one time when I bent down – rip!  As in R.I.P.

What the hell is happening? [Read Column]

And now ladies and gentlemen, the 2009 edition of the Dick Cheney Universal Altruism Award as selected by LuckyRob.com.  Our last recipient was none other than Kevin Siembieda, owner and designer of the Palladium Megaverse as well as a colossal Dick.

I reserve this award for people that really inspire a certain emotion from me.  The same emotion that the former Vice President and current polygamist, Cheney, elicited.  Call it an equal mix of loathing and terror.  This particular year’s award is special because I’m presenting it to a worthy candidate from my newly adopted homeland – Australia.

So without further ado I present to you Kyle Sandilands.  Congratulations, Kyle, you’re a Dick! [Read Column]