Gone horribly wrong.

In Russia.

Want to hook up with Jesus.

If anyone can relate to a 'juice-head hugging, big muscle loving' it's Anderson Cooper.

Probably a little acetic, for a baby's stomach.

Now that's entertainment!

With his birthday less than a week away, I thought we'd check in with Jesus at The Holy Land Experience. The HLE is an Orlando theme park that approximizes what Jerusalem would have been like if Jesus had been of northern European descent and Roman soldiers had purchased their armor at a Halloween shop. Check out the full video of his crucifixion. It's sort of like crossing the Passion of the Christ with a Sea World show. In other words, it can't miss. Admission to the park is $35. They also accept donations.

As some of you may have guessed, my thoughts on Christmas are a little conflicted. It's not like I have a vendetta against it like some people think. I mean, good for them. They managed to co-opt the solstice celebration. I'm not crazy about it, but it's not like I don't put up a tree and a few wreaths.

The thing that drives me nuts is the Santa Claus thing. Namely the notion that I invented Santa Claus to take the spotlight off Jesus during his birthday. Some say his name is "Santa" because it's just "Satan" with the "N" placed in front of the "T". I feel slightly insulted by the notion that I can turn into a serpent on a whim and tempt Eve out of paradise, but that when concocting a campaign to influence every Christian child in the world for hundreds of years I would just spell my name with a few letters switched around.

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You're going to end up at a lot of parties in the next 10 days. Some good, most horrendous. Here  are a few tips for getting out of a couple bad holiday situations.

Problem: Bad Party with more old people at it than you expected. What I do: Guerilla warfare. There's a laundry list of things you can do to destroy a party from within. Number one is clog the main toilet. This can shorten a party by hours, and if it's a small apartment with only one bathroom, you could bring it to a screeching halt right then and there. The best way to do this is with paper towels. Toilet paper is made to break up in water; paper towels are made to keep their structure as well as possible. Smuggle paper towels into the bathroom. This might be tough to pull off; if people are around, do it one at a time, like how Andy Dufresne smuggled the pieces of his cell wall into the yard in Shawshank Redemption. When you have a bunch, flush 'em. Once the problem is known to the host, say something like "thanks for having us, looks like you've got your hands full, though!"
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Like all people who don't consult the Bible to solve practical problems, I'm at war with Christmas. I wish people "Happy Holidays" , promote the idea of Santa Claus in order to deflect attention away from the role of the Christ-child, and accentuate the pagan elements of the celebration in favor of the Christian ones, which are in extreme danger with our country maintaining a paltry incidence of Christians at a mere 76%. And why wouldn't I? I stand to gain so much from the effort, I really can't afford not to. But we need a shot in the arm. So I'm mining the great war-mongers of the past for material. What do say, Genghis? How would you attack Christmas?

Genghis Khan: Well, first I'd find a few stores that feature religiously neutral decorations, like holly, wreaths, and maybe even some Kwanzaa stuff, because they'd clearly be part of the war effort. I'd absorb them into my army and ride to a store that has the nerve to wish people "Merry Christmas" when they check out. While riding we'd drag yule logs behind our horses to kick up extra dust and give the appearance of greater numbers. When I arrived at the store, let's say it's a Wal-Mart in Texas, I'd explain to the manager that he can either surrender, or everyone in the store can be killed. Then I'd camp out that night, instructing my soldiers to each light 3 Christmas trees apiece instead of just one, again to give the impression of greater numbers. We'd probably light a few Menorahs as well, just to show how at war with Christmas we really are. Naturally, there would be no praying.

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Christmas. Yeah, we're going there. I never said this would be a smooth ride. Christmas is of course the celebration of the day Jesus was born and placed in a manger because there was "no room at the inn". Seriously?  Who was running this inn? Messianic prophecy or not, it's a couple who had a baby 5 minutes ago, you can't make some space? Hell wouldn't even pull that shit, and we're talking about a place that dedicates an entire high-rise to gleefully forcing glass shards under the eyelids of false witnesses.

Christmas is also the beginning of Christmastide, the so-called 12 days of Christmas, made famous in the song of the same name. Allow me to take a breath before going into this one. Let's think about this. The first 4 days, the singer's "true love" - and I put that in quotations because I'm not sure I buy that designation for reasons I'll explain - gives her (Yeah, her. I've lived so long I stopped counting my age when we went from Roman to Arabic numerals, and I can tell you this: chicks don't buy guys multiple swans. Sorry boys, ain't gonna happen.) a partridge (with tree), 2 turtle doves, 3 french hens, and 4 colly birds. The song seems to suggest that these things are stacked every day, so on the first day it's a partridge in a pear tree, and on the second day it's 2 turtle doves and a second partridge in a pear tree, and so on. I'm going to assume that's not the case, and that each subsequent mentioning of a gift is a reference to the original, and not a duplicate gift. If I'm wrong, then what I took to be merely absurd is actually whatever is above absurd. Preposterous?

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Jesus Christ, Val Kilmer. Not only are you a huge fatass you're beginning to look like a lesbian, too. How many Pizza Huts have you eaten in the last 20 years (and we mean the Pizza Hut buildings, not slices of pizza). You should be appearing on the Celebrity Fit Camp and try your best not to hide any of the other contestants under your fat rolls so that you can win.

Your Penance for coming to this website: Say 10 Hail Marys, 4 Our Fathers and bow to Lindsay Lohan's boobs.

Here is something from 2009 that didn't suck. Enjoy.

This got me to thinking about drugs, steroids, etc. The other day Mark McGwire admitted to juicing, and as this amazing animation illustrates all types of drugs have effected the game of baseball, and sports in general throughout the years.

I think that what needs to happen is that we need to stop trying to stop people from doing drugs, and just have all athletes admit what drugs they are on, have them listed like any other stats.

"Oh, I see here that the pitcher today is left handed and takes lithium and synthetic cat hormones."

How many basketball players smoke weed?

No really, how many? I thought you knew.

The point is that Doc Ellis was able to throw a No No on LSD and speed, but you give that same combination to Randy Johnson, and you might just see a little girl get her head ripped off... I'm not talking about a stray pitch either. I am talking about him walking over to the crowd and ripping a little girls head off because he thinks she is a bag of Doritos and The Big Unit loves Doritos... especially blonde Doritos.  

We should just be told what these guys are operating on, so that we can fully appreciate their performances.

Did this make any sense? I'm a little F'd up on whippets right now... Got to get ready for my big ultimate frisbee game.

Chuck McCarthy is the mastermind behind IdeasByChuck.com, where he gives away great ideas in the hopes that you turn them into reality and remember to send him a small percentage of your profits. He Twitters here and Tumbls here. Chuck will be guest blogging for LiquidGeneration the next couple weeks!

Since it's premiere, MTV's "Jersey Shore" has received a staggering amount of criticism from the New Jersey Italian American Legislative Council. Caucus Chairman Joseph "Joey Ravioli" Vitale said the "wildly offensive" show promotes derogatory ethnic stereotypes. And in a letter to Viacom, MTV's parent company, Joey Ravioli demanded that the show be cancelled, and in exchange, he would "send you's some meatballs and Grigio."

Perhaps he should have sent an oaky Chard, because "Jersey Shore" remains on the air. And personally, I think MTV has some freshly waxed balls for keeping Mike's freshly waxed situation around. But more importantly, in the hysteria surrounding the casts' love of offensively smearing ricotta on each other's wife beaters and then licking it off (rather, it should be licked off and then spit into an al dente shell), the media hasn't even bothered to report on the most positive aspect of the show:

The young women of the cast. 

For far too long, MTV reality series have focused on drunk, slutty women with perfectly-proportioned, unattainable body types, so it's nice to finally see MTV choosing drunk, slutty women with far sloppier body types easily attained by the second semester of freshmen year. The big-boned women, Angelina, Jenni "J-Woww", Nicole "Snooki", and Sammi "Sweetheart" clearly have healthy appetites and spend most of their time consuming New Jersey's four basic food groups: Everclear, cranberry juice, ice, and calzones.

And instead of obsessively exercising on the treadmill for hours at a time, these all-natural ladies are showing girls everywhere that there are far safer more interactive ways to burn those unwanted ice calories off. Like spending time in the Jacuzzi, for instance. Simultaneously chugging vodka, removing your bra, and manually stimulating a situation, all while sitting in oppressive heat, offer a superb cardio session. And though not scientifically proven, it may also help you take a punch.

So step off, detractors, and give this show the friggin' respect it deserves, and don't trim the fat.

(Note: While Prongs has never actually watched "Jersey Shore", she did grow up in New Jersey, so any assumptions made above are not assumptions, but actual fact. Peace & Meatballs, Audi 5000.)

Little Rock, Arkansas – When Michelle Duggar’s vagina overheard a conversation about a “due date” for “Number 19, Jesus-Jaylyn”, the vagina, known locally as “Stretch” reportedly suffered a massive panic attack.

This is the eighteenth known attack the vagina has suffered, and sources close to situation say the vagina was seen being carried away on a stretcher screaming expletives at Mr. Duggar. The source went on to say that the vagina was so agitated that it most certainly would have been waving its arms in the air, if it had been able to grow arms.

When contacted, a hospital representative would only say that the vagina was resting comfortably after being denied a transfer to a different body.