With a twist.

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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The road to professional sports is one of the most effective sociopath assembly lines in the world. Separated from their peers by talent as kids, pandered to as teenagers, and idolized as adults, today's college and professional athletes know that forgiveness is only one contrite press conference away. We keep track of their antisocial behavior and marvel at their sociopathleticism in the Sociopathlete Round-Up.

Sociopathlete: Lawrence Taylor, former Linebacker, New York Giants
The real LT appeared in court the other day to claim that police violated his rights when they entered a hotel room he was sleeping in to seize evidence that he had paid a sixteen-year-old runaway $300 for sex. Court papers in a related but separate case say he admitted to sex acts with the girl. What they don't say is that LT didn't even practice soliciting prostitutes during the week, he just showed up on soliciting-prostitutes-day and made it happen. But at least he's taking it seriously.

Sociopathlete: Albert Haynesworth, Defensive Lineman, Washington Redskins
Brett Favre made the list last time for doing his job. Haynesworth makes it for refusing to do his. Coach Mike Shanahan suspended him for the final four games of the season without pay. Haynesworth didn't want to play nose tackle in the team's 3-4 defense. But he also didn't want to find a new team and give up his 21 million dollar contract bonus. So he just stayed on, but also didn't do his job - the best of both worlds. He also needed 10 days to pass a conditioning test at the start of training camp, showing that you don't need athleticism to have sociopathleticism.

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These kids have found the best way to kill time while waiting for the doctor...dance party!

Here's a dispatch from the Furry Movement. A portrait of a man or lady dressed as a dog...while holding their dog. What's scary about this isn't the fact that the Furry appears to be on crystal meth, what's scary is that somebody allowed this person into their studio to take this photograph. We believe in Limited Government, but when citizens are allowed to dress like freaking morons and these freaking morons are allowed to own dogs and these morons somehow find a way to use the internet and upload these photos, well, we just think there should be a special Waterboarding and Execution Division of the US Government that would punish people who do these sort of things. It's not adorable, dude.  It's just disturbing and sad and we're going to go to our room and cry now. 

You can see more of this disgustingness here.

We showed you a dude that looks a porn at work, now two dudes fighting eachother on tv.  Maybe they did it for the ratings, who cares I'm hoping this trend continues. 

So you've finally seen the iPad and made a tampon joke or two about it. But if my gut is telling the truth, then we're all going to be dead when the people at Apple Corporate murder us with their lazer beam eyes. Seriously! Have you checked out that iPad video yet? Here are some stills:

Senior Vice President of Industrial Design Jonathan Ive is responsible for make the things at Apple pretty. However, his eyes can see through your underpants and shoot amazingly designed lazer beams at your face, so watch out.

After he's done eating all the meat on your bones, SVP of Hardware Bob Mansfield, will kidnap your 13-year-old nephew and try to play video games with him. Or he might appear in Crimson Tide 2 - SERIOUSLY GUYS, DOESN'T HE LOOK LIKE THAT ONE GUY? JUST A LITTLE BIT?

Scott Forstall, SVP of iPhone Software, will stare at you from across the room until you're completely naked. I kid you not. He will not leave until then.

Okay, stop looking at them. You know what I'm talking about. This is getting a little childish right now.

Very rarely do I ever have any serious desire to meet celebrities. This is partly because, like I pointed out before, I am pretty out of touch with pop culture, and partly because I have met a bunch of celebrities. Most of the time, they are very disappointing - douches.

Sitting here in my coffice (coffee shop + office) next to the Gaming Club (they play board games here twice a week) I don't feel too Hollywood, though I guess I am... since I live in Hollywood. But, I didn't move out here because it was my dream to hang out with Paris Hilton or pal around with Wilmer "Yo Mama" Valderama. These Gaming Club guys can get a little rowdy, but I can tell you from experience, they are much less annoying to be in the same room with than the Valderama.

This said, I have to admit that every once in a while I hear enough about a famous person that I actually want to meet them, to see what they are really like.

I have been feeling this way about Lady Gaga for a while now for a couple of reasons. First, she kind of reminds me of my week long high school ex-girlfriend Larkin Grimm (a weirdo musician in her own right) and a couple of other girl friends (friends that are girls). This feeling of familiarity is all about her general craziness and desire to dress to impress or offend. Second, she kind of looks like my old boss Suzie from Liberty Curio, a junk shop that I worked at selling junk on Ebay and Craigslist.

Recently (30 minutes ago after I read her Wikipedia entry), I started to feel a desire to meet Ke$ha too. I don't know how much of her Wikipedia entry is true, but she had me at "breaking into Prince's house." Anyone crazy enough to enter Prince's domain uninvited... wow. Throwing up in Paris Hilton's closet is pretty cool too. Plus, she is hot, really hot, and like me and Lady Gaga, she likes to hang out in her undies.

I know I said I don't like blondes in my post about Chuckota (super celebrity couple Chuck McCarthy and Dakota Fanning), but I am pretty sure that neither Ke$ha nor Lady Gaga are real blondes. Moreover, I just want to meet them, get to know them. Dating is a long way down the road. Let's not get ahead of ourselves. I might hate both of them in real life.

Anyway, I decided that I am going to try to meet and hang out with Lady Gaga and Ke$ha. This is where living in Hollywood comes in handy. I am fairly confident that I can track them down. Los Angeles is big, but not that big.

I already found both of their Myspace profiles, and friended them. I hope they accept. Lady Gaga was online when I sent her the request, so maybe she will get back to me soon!

Let me know if you have any advice... or if you are Ke$ha or Lady Gaga, let's hang.

We wonder if you bring a cooler gift to the strip club - say, a werewolf lighter -- do get better (read = more naked) time in the champagne room? Only one way to find out!