"This is a serious exercise. It's like an SAT question. Which one is going to get to the hundred dollar bill first? The male-friendly lesbian, the man-hating dyke, Santa Claus, or the Easter bunny? " - Jason Lee, "Chasing Amy"
I already used a quote from this movie a few months ago, however, it was the only one featuring the Easter Bunny that came to my mind. It's Good Friday, and I've got driving to perform as I have to visit family who live more than six hours away from Austin.
Easter is usually an ugly holiday due to such traveling over a short period of time, but with the appropriate music and some Cadbury creme eggs, it will all work out fine.
Before I hit the road, let's look at the important stories of the week such as:
A judge awarded Heather Mills a total of $48.6 million Monday in the financial settlement of her divorce from former Beatle Paul McCartney. A document released by the Family Court said the judge awarded Mills a lump sum of $33 million plus the assets she currently holds worth $15.6 million.
Following the closed hearing, McCartney was heard complaining loudly that "she wanted an arm and a leg from me and she got it."
Halle Berry gave birth to a baby girl Sunday, and "is doing great," her publicist Meredith O'Sullivan told People.com. The father is 32-year-old model Gabriel Aubry, and the pair met while shooting a Versace ad in Los Angeles two years ago.
I feel sorry for that little girl as she is going to be so damn ugly when she grows up with such an inferior gene pool to work with.
Ashley Alexandra Dupre, the call girl at the center of the Elliot Spitzer sex scandal, saw a $1 million offer from "Girls Gone Wild" to pose nude in a magazine be withdrawn after the company discovered videos of a semi-nude Dupre, now 22, in its archives.
The company plans to sell them on its Web site, a company spokesman said.
This is just another reason not to get drunk and show your tits for free - always charge money - as it could cost you a lot more cash one day when you've become a high-priced escort and taken down a major public figure.
Shia LeBeouf became a fugitive from the law Tuesday after he failed to appear in court to face a ticket for smoking where you're not supposed to.
The actor was caught smoking a cigarette on the street of a protected shopping district Feb. 18 in Burbank, CA which was in violation of a local ordinance. A publicist for the 21-year-old "Transformers" star had no comment on the bench warrant other than to say LaBeouf didn't have legal representation for such matters.
LeBeouf was arrested earlier in the year for loitering at a Walgreens store while allegedly drunk. 
One of these days, LeBeouf might actually get in trouble with the law for a real crime which doesn't make him look silly and ridiculous.
Lurid video stills began circulating earlier this week, showing what some have claimed is “Sex and The City” star Kristin Davis, caught in an explicit act.
A representative for Davis told Access Hollywood it is not the actress featured in the racy video images. 
I'm not convinced the pictures are actually of Davis having sex in a city, however, it's hard to credibly deny them when you've been on "Sex in the City" for many years - life imitates art.
Since we're talking sex, let's end with an image that is a reversion, but still interesting: 
I don't find this sexy per se, however, it is impressive and the only image I had available to me. So, make do with what you have over Easter, make it a big holiday and . . . Happy Good Friday!
-BDS
I had a friend in middle school who used to slam his dick inside drawers. 
He claimed it made his penis bigger. Although we never saw him perform this act, he swore repeatedly by his method and the results supported it. The guy had a big dick - at least for sixth grade - and was prone to wagging it around the locker room in unabashed displays of penal projection.
We fell out of touch as high school approached, so I'm not sure if his dick slamming continued to enlarge his appendage or if he just hit puberty early.
I was reminded of this guy and his penis when I recently read an article in GQ, Details or Esquire which claimed that men with big dicks are nearly invincible to life's follies. The message was that owning a super-sized Johnson insulated you when times were tough. Apparently, an enormous cock allows you to laugh in the face of danger, remain confident when faced with adversity and approach women with diplomatic immunity.
One quote read something like "I've seen my friend, who has a 9-inch penis, remain upbeat in the fact of situations the would have crippled nearly any other man with an average-sized penis." 
I have my doubts about this theory.
One reason is that the last time I heard anything about my sixth grade friend, he was living in a shack somewhere near the Florida Keys. Another is that a large penis is not something that you can often put on display or use to make money when the rent is due unless you plan to dabble in amateur pornography or perform tricks for $20 a pop under the freeway. 
It can certainly be nice to know that you're packing heat below the belt, however, that knowledge is of little comfort if you let the rest of your life go to shit.
The article claimed that possessing a sizable tool enabled the man to laugh at life in general and stay positive. I think that staying upbeat in the face of adversity has a shelf life - big dick or not.
Then again, if you've been reading this blog for awhile, you might have noticed that there is very little negativity and a lot of laughing at life its ownself around here. Think about it.
-BDS
Two years ago, I was lucky enough to spend St. Patty's Day in Ireland as my good friend had the foresight to schedule his wedding to overlap with the event. 
Both the wedding, and the holiday celebration were excellent as the Guinness flowed freely, people were generally in a good mood and many songs were sung which kept the crowds riled up. I was unsure of the exact lyrics as the pubs were loud and the accents strong, however, I stood with the masses pint after pint. 
In America, I still enjoy St. Patty's Day, although the holiday morphs into a good excuse to get drunk in the middle of the day and utilize embarrassing Irish accents. I plan to do neither today. It's raining in Austin today, and with the Easter holiday coming up later this week, I have work to do.
But in case it's possible to shirk or postpone your duties for a cold Guinness, here's some tips that I've learned over the years:
1) Never drink Green Beer.
2) I repeat - never drink Green Beer 
3) Don't let a female you're trying to pick up drink green beer as it looks horrible coming back up and is difficult to clean
4) Always have a professional make your Black and Tan for you
5) Don't pinch anyone at your office - especially females - who aren't wearing green unless you want to visit your HR department
6) Consider pinching people at bars who aren't wearing green, but keep it playful
7) Watch "Michael Collins"
8) Don't ask any short men you encounter about pots of gold or Lucky Charms - there's no humor there
9) Listen to the Clancy Brothers
10) Guinness does taste better in Ireland
Happy St. Patty's Day.
-BDS
"It's so damn hot! Milk was a bad idea," - Will Ferrell, "Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy"
Luckily, this week has passed quickly, an occurrence that I badly needed after raking myself over the coals last weekend. South by Southwest has now descended on Austin, and that means that I will not be drinking margaritas at Guero's, eating Tex-Mex at Trudy's or having breakfast at Magnolia Café until the chaos dies down.
But before I can find any adequate substitutes, let's examine the hard news of the week such as:
Lisa Marie Presley's lawyers say they plan to sue British newspaper the Daily Mail after it published an article suggesting that the singer had developed an "unhealthy appetite" and "has gained weight like her father Elvis."
Presley, 40, revealed the real reason for her expanding waistline - she's pregnant - to PEOPLE on Thursday
Her lawyer, Simon Smith, said: "My client is deeply upset and offended by this article, especially as it was widely published just as she and her family were meant to be celebrating her happy news." 
Smith also said the Presley will be asking the Daily Mail to reimburse her for her mental suffering with 227 fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches.
Heather Locklear is fine following a hoax suicide attempt alert at her California home on Saturday night, according to her representative.
A spokesperson for the star says, "(I) spoke with Heather and she is fine. She never requested medical assistance and did not place a 911 call. Nor did anyone from her house call 911 or place a call requesting medical assistance." 
To be safe, I have offered Locklear a clean, quiet stay at my loft in Austin for any rehabilitation she might need.
Dawn Wells, who played Mary Ann on "Gilligan's Island," will be serving six months of unsupervised probation after allegedly being caught with marijuana in her car.
She was sentenced Feb. 29 to five days in jail, fined $410.50 and placed on probation after pleading guilty to one count of reckless driving.
In her defense, she claimed that she needed the dope to cope with "all those people who thought Ginger was hotter."
Britney Spears will reportedly guest star in a forthcoming episode of the CBS sitcom "How I Met Your Mother." The 26-year-old pop star will play a doctor's receptionist named Abby who becomes smitten with the main character, Ted. 
This role will be a marked departure from real life where people tell Spear's children that " I met your mother barefoot and buying cigarettes at a gas station" or "I met your mother when she ran over my foot outside of a Starbucks."
Michael Jackson reached an 11th-hour deal to refinance his troubled Neverland Ranch, his lawyer said Thursday, which will void the scheduled upcoming auction of the property.
Jackson attorney L. Londell McMillan told The Associated Press the pop star has worked out a "confidential" agreement with Fortress Investment Group LLC allowing him to retain ownership of the famed property in Los Olivos, Calif.
McMillian also said that Jackson "realizes he's been Bad, but that he's faced The Man in the Mirror, has decided - though won't disclose - whether he's Black or White and was excited that he was able to win back the property in a Thriller."
"Girls Gone Wild" video empire founder Joe Francis pleaded no contest to child abuse and prostitution charges Wednesday under an agreement allowing him to go free after nearly a year in jail.
Francis, 34, returned to Florida after posting a $1.5 million bond this week in Nevada, where he is awaiting trial for tax fraud. The hearing in Bay County state court resolved his 2003 criminal case involving the filming of underage girls during spring break on Panama City Beach.
"I have never committed any crime. I pleaded guilty just to get out of jail," said Francis. 
I'm no prison expert, but I imagine that Francis did a lot more than lift his shirt during his jail stint, which may or may not validate your views on Karma in this world.
Let's not end with any unpleasantness in the penal industry, and instead, focus on the positive like this: 
I generally loathe sweeping the stairs, but I might make an exception in this case. So, feel free to clean in odd areas today, be careful descending from steep places and . . . Happy Friday!
-BDS
Eliot Spitzer sounds like a porn name.
I always thought this to be true of the New York Governor, but now, if things play out like I think they will, Spitzer might have to resort to an adult industry to make the rent after this high-priced escort scandal. If you've been sniffing glue or hibernating for the past two days, Spitzer is facing calls for his resignation after being linked to the prostitution services of the Emperor's Club VIP. 
“I have acted in a way that violates my obligations to my family and violates my, or any, sense of right and wrong,” the governor said. “I apologize first and most importantly to my family. I apologize to the public to whom I promised better.”
According to the affidavit, Spitzer paid $4,300 for an appointment that began on Feb. 13th, and ended at 12:02 a.m. the next day. The report also indicated that Spitzer had used the prostitution service before, although it was unclear how often he dipped his hand in the cookie jar.
The Associated Press has reported that Spitzer has paid out $80,000 to the service for past performance.
Ignoring the potential moral and legal ramifications of this allegation, I want to simply focus on the economic factor because $4,300 seems like a hell of a lot of money for an escort. For that kind of cash, I would expect at least 3 women, some party drugs and a vat of whipped cream or I would feel ripped off. 
Even if those items were thrown into the mix I would spring for some black market Viagra to make sure I had more than one or two bullets in the chamber. If I'm shelling out $4,300 then I'm making a long night of it.
The other issue I had with Spitzer's arrangement was that he apparently flew this escort from New York to Washington D.C. This seems like an unnecessary expense, and one that must have upped the price tag. If you needed a prostitute in D.C., I would imagine you could find a plethora of high-end services which were local rather than situated on the Coast. 
Quite simply, if Spitzer couldn't make better monetary decisions when it comes to high-end hookers, how could he ever balance a government budget?
He might not get the chance as the wolves are nipping at his heels for his impeachment or resignation. It doesn't take a mystic to predict an ugly outcome, however, I am still amazed at the money it takes for a high-end escort these days.
It must be a rarified circle that you move in when $4,300 for a night of fun seems reasonable, over and over again.
- BDS
It's always a draining experience entertaining houseguests for a weekend.
This task becomes exponentially harder, however, when those same guests view a weekend in Austin through the eyes of their first adults-only vacation away from their son, who is nearly two years old. And while my mind can certainly wrap itself around blowing off steam, it's the body which can only be pushed so far before it rebels.
Ignoring the physiological ramifications, this past weekend was an utter success. The weather was perfect. Traffic was still manageable ahead of the South by Southwest madness. Nobody got hurt.
Unfortunately, the ramifications of an all-day drinking session followed by an all-night concert can no longer be easily shaken off. When you couple the latter with losing an hour of sleep due to Daylight Savings Time, you create a recipe for physical disaster that I am still paying for as I sit in my office and drink coffee this morning.
Things began to turn sideways almost immediately after work on Friday. I slipped out early to meet my wife and our friends at a wine bar downtown around 4 p.m. This was only a brief stop-over before we navigated our way to an Irish pub a few blocks over where we set up shop for several hours. 
Many rounds of Guinness were ordered and consumed as my brother and other people stopped by. At some point we decided it would be far cheaper to retire to the loft, so we split into factions with very specific tasks:
1) Get a ton of barbecue - brisket, sausage, potato salad, turkey, ribs, beans, bread and sauce
2) Get red wine to match the barbecue
3) Get cases of Shiner Bock
4) Chill 2 bottles of champagne
Luckily, everyone could be trusted and everyone kept their end of the bargain. So, we ended up running through pounds of barbecue and mixing some brutal drinking combinations to accompany the food. It started with red wine, progressed to champagne and ended up with Shiner Bock over the course of the next six hours and only ended when the last drop of alcohol that remained was a lonely Spaten bottle that had been sitting in the back of my refrigerator for nearly a year. 
Ugly.
I am no longer equipped for all-day drinking bouts. By midnight, simply walking up and down my stairs was a journey which required extreme preparation and I knew that mistakes had been made. The next day was nearly unbearable as the sun shined brightly, and I felt like a poisonous bullfrog had died in my mouth sometime during the night.
After consuming two breakfast tacos and a vat of Cuban coffee, we decided the only reasonable thing to do was to sweat some of the toxins out during a 5-mile walk around the lake. This masochistic activity nearly beat me and I only considered hurling myself into the lake ten or twelve times during the trek. 
Everybody made the course, however, and after taking them for a celebratory lunch of chicken fried steak and cream gravy, we went back to loft and napped for several hours.
Then, it was time to get ready for The Scabs concert at Antone's, a semi-famous Austin club near Sixth Street. I still felt like hell, but rallied as we spent the next five hours standing, dancing and drinking at the show. When the set ended at 2 a.m., we realized it was actually 3 a.m. due to the time shift, a piece of knowledge that depressed everyone in my car and seemed monumentally unfair. 
I haven't abused myself like that for a long time, and it seemed like utter bullshit that the universe would chose to punish me so suddenly by stealing away another hour. It was instant karma.
Nobody got to bed until after 4 a.m. due to the consumption of the remaining barbecue, and I spent yesterday changing clocks and cursing myself - more specifically my body - for betraying me when I needed it the most.
"I've given you years off of doing this kind of thing, and this is how you repay me?" was my mantra, a sentiment which fell on deaf ears.
Now, it's Monday morning and pouring rain in Austin. My head feels swollen and the clock in my car remains an hour behind the times.
I desperately need a weekend to recover from my weekend.
-BDS
"You are one ugly motherfucker," - Arnold Schwarzenegger, "Predator"
The weather is shaping up nicely for the weekend, which is stellar because I've got friends coming in town to stay with me. In general, I'm not wild about houseguests, but I do enjoy seeing people I like, so sometimes sacrifices must be made.
But before I start playing tour guide around Austin, let's take a look at the important stories of the week such as:
Four upcoming stops on Van Halen's reunion tour have been postponed due to an unidentified illness currently afflicting frontman Eddie Van Halen, concert promoter Live Nation announced Monday.
According to Eddie's physician, "he is undergoing a battery of comprehensive medical tests to determine a defined diagnosis and recommended medical procedures."
His physician later added that he wasn't optimistic for a Van Halen recovery because "there's no medicine available for dealing with an egomaniacal jackass like David Lee Roth."
Producers announced that David Hernandez will remain on "American Idol," despite his past as a male stripper at Dick's Cabaret in Phoenix.
"We've had strippers on the show before," executive producer Ken Warwick was quoted on Tuesday as telling the Web site TVGuide.com. "We're never judgmental about people who do things like that. If it were some sort of heavy porn, then maybe we'd have to take action. But certainly not on this."
Paula Abdul made a personal plea for Hernandez to stay in the competition, and he is currently greased and tied to her bedpost when he's not on camera as his part of the bargain.
Lou Pearlman, the music mogul who launched the Backstreet Boys and 'N Sync, has agreed to plead guilty and make restitution to victims swindled out of an estimated $300 million in phony bank and investment schemes, U.S. prosecutors said on Tuesday.
The charges carry a maximum of 25 years in prison and a $1 million fine.
In my opinion, Pearlman should be fined $10 million alone for bringing the Backstreet Boys and 'N Sync into existence.
Lindsay Lohan's mom, Dina Lohan, announced that she will headline her own reality show on the E! network this week.
The new program - "Living Lohan" - will give viewers the chance to watch Dina shepherd Ali Lohan, 14, into a show business career as the show will "follow Dina as she works double duty as mom and manager to help Ali try to follow in her big sister's famous footsteps."
In preparation, Dina Lohan has already bought Ali a case of Greg Goose Vodka as well as a backstage pass to clubs around town. Ali will also have no curfew.
Kate Beckinsale revealed this week that her best attribute is known as "Pharaoh's Tomb" - a self-described monikor for her nether regions.
Beckinsale says, "My best feature is unfortunately a private matter, although I'm told it is spectacular. But you can't really walk it down the red carpet. What can I say?"
I'd love to get Beckinsale in a room, and put "Walk Like An Egyptian" by the Bangles on repeat until the Tomb was revealed.
Britney Spears' father will retain control over the troubled pop star's personal and business affairs until July 31, a court spokesman said on Thursday.
Jamie Spears will be paid a sum of $2,500 a week to manage Britney's affairs. 
It must be nice to get paid good money to act like a Father.
As always, let's end with a pleasing image:
Suddenly, my chair at work seems less comfortable and far less sexy. So, upgrade what you sit on, don't get your ass stuck on any amount of leather and . . . Happy Friday!
-BDS
I generally loathe standing in lines, inefficiency, arbitrary decisions and forced exuberance, but despite this brutal combination of dislikes, I chose to attend my local caucus in Austin last night.
The entire point behind a caucus seems antiquated and semi-ridiculous. Texas has a truly horrible system as you have to vote at the polls - this number represents 2/3 of the delegates selected - but then you also have to return to a different venue to vote in the caucus where the remaining 1/3 of the delegates are chosen. Why? 
I can think of no good reason for a dual system except that it provides you with twice the opportunity to screw things up.
Another pet peeve I have is piss-poor planning. As I stood in one long continuous line after another, I kept hearing staffers for the caucus mutter things like "I had no idea there'd be this many people" and things of a similar nature. I wanted to run up next to them, shake them repeatedly and yell "A blind, mentally-deficient rhinoceros living under a rock could have expected a record turn-out this year." 
I might have done this after the first hour of standing outside the venue, however, I would have forfeited my place in line. Who knew democracy could be so frustrating? Probably a lot of people, including me.
Anyway, it's too nice outside today to stay angry about the lingering chaos of last night. It's 70 degrees and sunny with piercing blue skies, and only a fool wouldn't take advantage.
I think I'll toast the voting process sitting outside the Draught Horse, an oversized pint of Fat Tire in hand at one place where the world always looks infinitely more appealing. 
-BDS
I was watching "Wedding Crashers" on cable last night (mainly for research - but that's a different post), and I noticed a peculiar use of censorship by the station. Apparently, it's now fine to use the word pussy on the air, however, shit continues to be off-limits. 
In context, it was fine for a character to chastise another character to "Stop being such a pussy," but that same character couldn't be asked "how full of shit are you?" The network substituted "it" for "shit" to make things palatable for viewers.
I found these arbitrary language choices very interesting. Trying to rationalize them, I guess that pussy is no longer verboten because it could be viewed as a companion piece to the word penis, a term which has crept onto the airwaves with more frequency over the past few years. 
So, it's possible that pussy is now included among the safe words to balance the karmic scales and to give penis something to play against. This seems fair to me as we shouldn't discriminate against pussy or lock it away in a closet while penis roams freely across television.
This brings us to shit. 
I've always felt that shit gets a bad rap because I've heard many people from my mother to staunch conservatives to clergymen say shit on occasion. It's a bodily function that is not pretty, but obviously, shit happens. Yet the word has been on the banned list for a long time, and I don't see this changing anytime soon.
Maybe there needs to be a shit lobby formed where members harass the FCC to allow it on the air rather than a group formed to actually defecate in lobbies. I'll ponder forming this coalition in my spare time, which is less and less these days.
Or maybe I'm just full of shit.
-BDS
{This is the Fifteenth in a semi-regular series of posts regarding great cinematic sex scenes as defined by me. This is completely arbitrary and open for interpretation, but so is life.}
"Team America: World Police" easily boasts the finest display of puppet sex ever committed to film, and the scene in question, is also so graphic that you almost feel dirty for watching two pieces of manipulated plastic perform acts of extreme sexual acrobatics quite so well. 
Regardless of the filth factor, the puppet interlude definitely earns its place among the all-time great cinematic sex scenes. Set to the mushy Aerosmith tune, "I Don't Want To Miss A Thing," the "South Park" creators make sure that their puppets leave absolutely no sexual position out of the mix as the duo show their love - again and again. 
And no, those love-starved puppets don't miss a damn thing during their bedroom tyrst.
Nearly every sexual position is explored as the scene starts with the relatively tame missionary before going full-tilt into several minutes of cowgirl, 69, up-against-the-wall and even upside-down sex as stamina as well as flexibility mean nothing to these puppets.
They lay it all on the line, and the audience is better for it, although the unrated version does explore a 'steamier' side of things that jumped the shark for me (and I'll leave at least some territory unexplored with that one).
I doubt that "Team America: World Police" will ever face strong competition for puppet sex in the future, however, it wouldn't matter if they did because the passion on display in this project has already laid a high-water mark that will be nearly impossible to surpass.
-BDS
