The Pirate in My Pants [Jan 26, 2003]

Hi. My name is Christopher Monks and I’ll be here the whole week filling in for Neal. I have a blog of my own that chances are you’ve never heard of or seen. That’s okay. I’m cool with that. Really. (Okay, maybe I'm not completely cool with that. I'm just humbled, and in all honesty, a little confused. What did I do wrong? Why haven't you visited my blog? Is it because I brought that bad broccoli dish to your potluck dinner? I'm sorry for that. I am. I was feeling adventurous and decided to try something different with broccoli. It was a bad move, but come on, let it go. Oh well…I'll try to regain your confidence as best I can.) When not writing for my own site I spend my free time watching “The View,” writing semi-autographical erotic poetry, and playing Twister with yo’ mama.

I have to admit to being a tad nervous about guest-blogging on this site. I feel like those small-town basketball players from “Hoosiers” did when they had to play the state championship game in a big arena, except I don’t have Gene Hackman to calm my nerves. Oh, how I forever long to be held by Gene Hackman and to feel his Golden Globe Cecil B. DeMille Lifetime Achievement Award winning touch! Wouldn’t he make a wonderful granddad? He just has that tender, yet firm way about him. Plus, think of the discounts you’d get at Lowes. Yes, his wife, who’s half his age, would make sort of an awkward step-grandma, but I think in the end they balance each other out. She’s Asian too, thus your family would get mad props for diversity, and you can’t beat that. Besides, Chinese New Year is right around corner: extra holiday, extra gift-getting!...So, yes, I’m a little intimidated by this task. Everything seems so much bigger here on this blog, and I worry that I will never adjust to the different font, but I will trod on and do the best I can. Think happy thoughts, think happy thoughts! Star Jones. There, I feel a bit better now. I love happy thoughts.

I spent my Sunday evening as you surely did: trying not to masturbate to Shania Twain during the halftime show of the Super Bowl. It’s not like a like her or anything, it’s just that whenever I see her I feel compelled to. You know what I mean? Sure you do. I don’t even find her songs that catchy. I mean, okay, maybe every so often I might get “Man! I Feel Like a Woman!” stuck in my head, but that’s only because the radio station they play in the cardio-vascular room at the Y has a commercial-free Shania hour every afternoon. I hate that radio station. They screwed me out of two tickets to "Disney on Ice" last week. Not the 14th caller my ass. Anyway, Shania Twain, she puts on quite a show. It’s just that I haven’t come to terms with this whole having to masturbate thing whenever I see her. Voices in my head tell me that it’s okay, go for it, Shania would want you to. But then other voices say, no way man, not cool, half your family is in the room, and sure, Second Cousin Rhonda is hot, but she’d take it the wrong way, so leave it alone.

As for the game itself, the red and copper pirates beat the black and silver pirates handily. The red and copper pirates made the black and silver pirates walk the plank. They said “Arrgh, matey” and “Shiver me timbers” to the silver and black pirates. They made the black and silver pirates seasick something fierce with their intense pass rush and mean pirate banter. Then the red and copper pirates taunted the black and silver pirates with their extra-strength Dramamine prescriptions they got on special from the coach’s great aunt who lives in Maine. By the end of the game the black and silver pirates vomited in fear and pain all over the field, and the red and copper pirates laughed and laughed and laughed. Ah, the sweet smell of victory and good health care coverage for the elderly!

But you’re not here for mindless pop culture and sports talk or to get a glimpse inside my sexually sordid mind, you’re here for in-depth analysis of breaking news. This week is a big week with Hans Blix and company’s report, our President’s State Of the Union address, and Hammer at Fatburger on “This Surreal Life,” so I promise to have my finger on the pulse of the news and to deliver timely, thought-provoking, and well-dressed reporting of the events that will change our lives as they occur. I’ll spend the rest of the day combing through Mr. Blix’s report, searching for only the juiciest of tidbits, all the while trying not to get distracted by his constant misuse of semi-colons. When I’m ready to give my take on his report, I’ll return here and break it all down for you C Monkey style. Until then, buy Neal’s book, check out my blog, and send me an email.