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Beat This Caption: Al Sharpton

"Democratic presidential candidate Al Sharpton addresses the National Coalition of Men Against Porn."

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Just Another Thursday Night

For your viewing pleasure, I present 35 reasons why I live in New York. My photos from Coyote Ugly's 10th anniversary party.

It's 3:10 a.m. I have a real job. I'll sleep when I'm dead.

E-mail me for a bonus shot.

'Joe Millionaire' Finalist's Bondage Career Unwound

Here's some reality for you: "Joe Millionaire" finalist Sarah Kozer does more than "sales and design," her occupation, as reported by FOX. She also has experience being gagged and hog-tied in such cinematic masterpieces as "Novices in Knots," and is one of the "fantastic foot-maidens" who "bare their filthy soles" in "Dirty Soled Dolls."

Yep, The Smoking Gun is at it again. Ordinarily I applaud its nose for irony, as it typically debunks myths that public relations staffs work so hard to conjure up and spread. But is this news relevant to anything? Must every lawful and willful act of a pseudo-celebrity's background be exposed for the sake of "gotcha" journalism?

Well, I'm linking to it, so I guess it cleared a somewhat low bar for newsworthiness, but perhaps the news says more about our reactions to sex than it does to anything related to Sarah Kozer.

Other News Items:

Nicotine-Free Cigarettes on the Way? — An Amish farmer is harvesting genetically modified tobacco with no addictiveness, but all of the stink. Think people who make billions off of cigarette addiction are standing idly by?

Ten Things Your Restaurant Won't Tell You — Who doesn't love behind-the-swinging-doors tales of deception and betrayal?

Doc Defends Initialing His College on Woman's Uterus — Apparently, it's a common procedure during surgery for a doctor to initial organs. But your college, man? That's as cheesy as those Irish guys with the Notre Dame tattoos. And I'm talking the guys who went to Suffolk County Community College.

Utility Wires Save Teen Thrown From Jeep — A Kansas City kid gets tossed from his Jeep and makes like a superhero, dangling 20 minutes from wires that saved his life. (See picture.) My advice for him: go play the lottery — right now.

Woman Awaits LoberGram, Gets Dead Dad's Leg — The good news, I guess, is that the LobsterGram is still on its way.

Onassis' Granddaughter Turns 18, Inherits $1.8 Billion — More amazing than the amount is that she's the last direct descendant of the Greek-born tycoon. The only way that happens at 18 is through great tragedy.

Thieves Ignore Cash, Steal Lego — Reminds me of when someone broke into my parents' house, stole instructions to a camera, but not the camera. They also left my mom's car keys in the Acura's ignition. I had been at college, but if they'd come back during break, their heads were going to be introduced to Mr. Louisville Slugger.

Full Disclosure: MichellesWonderland.com

This week, we interview the host of one of my all-time favorite personal sites, MichellesWonderland.com, a photo-heavy weekly journal of the best-looking 22-year-old college gal in Texas.

I've seen Michelle make all the right decisions in terms of gaining and maintaining an audience. She encourages and responds to feedback, she updates regularly (every Sunday), and you can't argue with the content — stories and photos of girl-on-girl kissing, thongs and all-night partying. If Tara Reid had a site, this would be it.

Aside from the free and user-friendly Wonderland, Michelle maintains an active Yahoo! group as well as a budding e-commerce area. So many people have recognized her good looks that some have sloten her images for various web scams. (Like the cool million I made off that blonde Russian bride gimmick. Thanks, M.)

I recently sent Michelle an interview while sitting naked at my computer, and she was kind enough to respond (naked, of course) with a glimpse behind the scenes of what is sure to be one of the most successful personal/budding model sites for a long time to come...

*****

Site: MichellesWonderland.com
Description: Crazy lil' blonde coed, sharing her life through pics & personal journal
Birth Date of Site: March 8, 2000
Contact E-mail: michelle@michelleswonderland.com

1. What were your goals for MichellesWonderland.com when it started, and how's it going so far?
Honestly, when I started "Michelle’s Wonderland," I had no goals for it at all. It was a goofy, little thing I puttered around with during the winter of 2000. I had no idea I would end up keeping up with it for this long. I would have never guessed that it would become so popular, either! Currently, it's going great. Over the past three years, over a million people have visited my little slice of cyberspace. That makes me feel great!

2. Who takes most of your pictures? And who updates the site?
My husband has taken most of the photos you've seen on Wonderland over the past several years. Occasionally, a friend will grab my camera at a party or whatnot, but the majority of the photos are credited to the hubby. In fall of 2002, I started doing a few professional photo shoots on the side, and have continued to arrange more shoots and try out new photographers. I really enjoyed "modeling" in that type of atmosphere.

3. What are some of the more creative and successful ways you've promoted your site?
One of the most popular things I have going for me — and the site — is my Yahoo! Group. It's similar to a fan club, but I treat it as more of a forum to chit-chat with me and other members. There's always something going down in there! I'm chatting in there nearly every day. Unlike a lot of other model groups, I answer people directly, and I love to shoot the breeze with everyone! Without my visitors, the site wouldn't be at the stage it is today. I hesitate to use the word "fan," but — bear with me — the fans are all so fantastic!

4. Tell us about your struggles with identity theft/impersonation online.
Oh, good lord. What is this all about? This whole "fakers" thing still puzzles the hell outta me. I get these girls/guys saving my photos and sending them out — in chat rooms, on singles sites, everywhere — saying, "This is me." I even have a few making their own websites with all my photos on it! The thing I don't understand is this: they can't ever meet the people they're fooling online. They’re getting attention, sure, but they can't possibly feel good about it. Puzzling.

5. You met your husband in a McDonald's. Was he the one who suggested you super-size your breasts?
Good one, Paul. :) OK, I know everyone is going to call my husband a wuss for this, but he didn't want me to get them in the beginning. He thought implants were stupid — and expensive. We talked about it — well, I talked about it. :) I wanted Playboy-perfect boobies, goddammit! And he loved me just as I was, all natural.

Finally, I said, "Look, you'll learn to love them." And trust me, he has. Many, many times!

6. Were you as surprised as I was that Todd Bridges took down Vanilla Ice in "Celebrity Boxing?" Seriously, I had Ice in two.
I never watched "Celebrity Boxing." Sorry I don't have anything clever to say here. :)

7. How long are we going to have to wait before you pose topless? I'm giving you three months.
Hey, who knows? Topless is something I might do for the site. I guess you’ll just have to wait and see! It's tough to have those Playboy-perfect boobs and not show them off! We'll see what happens! :) Hehehe!

8. Does your husband, or anyone else in your family, have any concerns either about the content of your site or its growing popularity?
Well (hi Mom), my mother visits the site. :) The only content she doesn't care for are the pics of me kissing the girls. The very first time she saw those, she printed them out and brought them to me. She was like, "Are you gay?” She's soooo funny!

My husband digs the site. He knows that it's a big hobby of mine. Plus, it keeps me busy on Sunday afternoons, and he can take off to play golf or zone out and watch TV without interruption. He's one of those people who gets online like once a week. I don’t get that. Some invisible force pulls me online at least once a day.

I think the first time someone actually recognized us offline (in Tulsa), it freaked my husband out. It's kind of like, "hey, people have seen the site and recognize both of us!"

9. What are the advantages to having both a website and a Yahoo! group?
My Yahoo! group and Wonderland site drive traffic back and forth. That's the best part. After opening the group again in March 2001, I’ve seen my traffic skyrocket!

I think the group is so popular because I am actually in there chatting with people. I have several moderators who help me out, so messages are being posted all day. It’s a very fast-paced group.

10. Does it concern you — perhaps excite you — that some men are likely visiting your site with some Vaseline and a box of Kleenex?
Ewww, goddamn you, that was gross! LOL. In all honesty, I don't ever think about that. With all the hardcore porn out there on the 'Net, and all the pics of hot, hot girls, I wouldn't think my little soft, tame site would excite people to the point of Kleenex or Vaseline!

11. In your bio, you say that you "can offer so much more of a contribution to society, other than pretty pictures." Does that mean videos as well?
Yes, that means plenty of videos in the future. Clearer, longer, brighter videos. You know you want it! You know you need it! :)

12. What can we expect in the near future from MichellesWonderland.com?
Not too long ago, I started considering a second site. You could call it a "sister site" to Michelle’s Wonderland. It would be linked to my main site, but would cost a small amount per month.

It would have bigger, better, sexier photos (maybe some boobie, definitely no kitty). Longer, more in-depth journal entries, not just covering "what I did this weekend," but far deeper.

Better videos (as mentioned in the previous question), LIVE webcam chat w/ sound, more cute girlfriends & some two-girl photo sets, and a big ol' forum to shoot the breeze in. :) It’s an idea we're tossing around — stay tuned!

Thanks Paul!

*****

Paul's Recap:

I already called bullshit on Michelle's assertion that she doesn't think about what some men might "do" when visiting Wonderland. She stands by that, though I've never heard of men who ask for photos of feet so they could study colors of nail polish. (RuPaul excluded.)

Be sure to check out MichellesWonderland.com every Sunday and her Yahoo! group every day, if you're up to it. Both sites are constantly evolving for the better, and you can monitor my prediction: topless in three months. Who wants to put $20 on it?

Thanks to Michelle for a great interview. If you're already a fan of hers but new to PK.com, poke around a bit. There's some T&A here, too, for crying out loud.

Want to be interviewed on PaulKatcher.com? E-mail Paul.

Review: Kraft Easy Mac

If every restaurant was reviewed at 3 a.m. by a food critic who'd been drinking for nine hours, they'd all get five stars. Those are conditions under which I ate my first highly recommended microwavable package of Kraft Easy Mac "early Saturday morning," as the near-dawn hours after Friday night binges are referred to in police blotters everywhere.

Alas, this stuff still sucked.

Disregard, for the moment, how and why I'm still drinking for nine hours straight at this point in my life, and understand the insurmountable odds Kraft had to overcome to not satisfy my taste buds. This was like spotting Michael Jordan the first four letters in a game of H-O-R-S-E. This was like lining up 20 chicks and seeing if Hugh Hefner could get a date with one. This was like calling me to ask if my apartment was available for two girls to film a lesbian porno. (That actually happened once. More on that some other time.)

In short, Kraft Easy Mac was guilty of "pulling a Raiders," an act of having absolutely no clue that it was supposed to do something at a designated time of high expectations.

Microwave food, in general, scares the hell out of me. I'm not even sure it's done cooking when it exits my body, let alone when it goes in. I understand how bread gets toasted. But a blast of air that pops popcorn behind closed doors frightens me more than any weapons in Iraq's possession.

I'm thinking of putting my five remaining packets of mini-macaroni and powdered cheese on eBay. Just add water to make a bowl of crap.

In Five Words or Less: Don't eat, not even drunk.

Someone Forgot to Tell Oakland This Wasn't Preseason

Well, it was a disappointing Super Bowl. The team I root for always loses. Except for the Giants' wins in 1986 and 1990, the team I have rooted for has won something like four of 20 times.

But I would've at least settled for a decent game, which we may have gotten if the Raiders had not been kidnapped before kickoff. This was like a sci-fi movie come true. Did Rich Gannon even play in the Super Bowl? Does this really count as a Super Bowl appearance for Tim Brown? Was that coach Bill Callahan on the sideline or did they grab a corporate exec out of the stands?

Ultimately, I am not all that saddened by the result, certainly not as much as the gay man pictured, who is drowning his sorrows in a pitcher of ice water. I'm most upset that football won't be back till September and that the main sporting event in February is the Daytona 500. Great, someone get me a tin of dip.

Other Super Bowl Thoughts:

All week long, I felt as if the Bucs were there to cement their place in history, and the Raiders were there because the NFL told them they had a game scheduled Sunday.

The Patriots ruined my favorite Super Bowl tradition, the pregame announcements of individual players. After everyone applauded New England's selfless act last year of being introduced as a team, both the Bucs and Raiders did the same. No more Michael Irvin kung-fu. No more steely-eyed quarterbacks looking as focused to a plan as astronauts. No more Ray Lewis prison dances or whatever the hell he did in January 2001.

Shania Twain: What a piece of ass. After reading her comeback interviews, though, I'm convinced she's from outer space and even more of a programmed pop brand than any boy group.

The Bud commercial with the real-life zebra reviewing a replay was a classic Super Bowl spot. A funny punchline in a commercial that had absolutely nothing to do with the product. And the retro-Michael Jordan one was good, too. Other than that, the commercials were less memorable than the game, and that was hard to do in this case.

The lack of disclosure about what happened to Raiders Pro Bowl center Barret Robbins was intriguing. This is the most-covered event in all of sports, and not one reporter could get a credible source to crack? Wow. My money is that he OD'ed and had something stuck up his ass that required surgery.

Posted by pkatcher at 9:30 AM | Comments (9)

Everyone Say Hello to Meatwheels

It had been awhile since I'd taken a trip to South Appleton, so Sunday I paid a visit to Cliff Yablonski Hates You, where there's always a party going on. This time, Cliff introduced me to Meatwheels (pictured), Lord of the Living Room and chunkmonster Eddie Burton.

I have a love-hate relationship with Cliff's, because it makes me laugh every time, even though its only objective is humiliation of others, something I try not to do too much of here. Unless the person in question stars in a Subway commercial every 12 seconds on my TV. Or if I'm really drunk when coming up with ideas.

Cliff is also the reason you don't see too many pictures of me online and none of my friends. As long as there's a "print screen" command on your computer, images are going to be considered fair game to some. My tip is to keep them in non-searchable photo albums like Yahoo!'s, where I have tons of photos not available to the PK.com general audience. Sorry, ladies.

Other Web Finds:

Jack Off to Joyce DeWitt — My new favorite Yahoo! club find, home to 80 members (and "rising"), who rough up the suspect while watching Santa Monica-based sitcom "Three's Company." The crew of past and future prisoners have also created photo albums of fake nudes of Janet, plus an album of ass shots from the show.

AAABookSearch.com — A site that searches for and compares prices of book titles online. Perfect for bargain hunters. Unfortunately, no nude photos of Joyce DeWitt on the site.

The Candy Critic's 10 Favorite Candies — My all-time favorite, Kit Kat, ranks atop CC's list. His No. 3 is Xploder, which happens to be the favorite of Joyce DeWitt.

The Jared Backlash — The "Adventures of AccordionGuy" collects all the web links that bag on Jared, who lost over 200 pounds — but not his dorkiness — by eating Subway sandwiches every day. Guess who's site is No. 1 on Google for "Subway Jared?" Hint: It ain't Joyce DeWitt's.

Jim Gaffigan's "Hot Pockets" Routine — I found the site of the comedian who I remember doing a very funny routine on Hot Pockets. Hear it here. And there's plenty of other funny stuff, too.

Contest: Celebrate Mardi Gras With Playboy — Besides Joyce DeWitt, who would you rather be on Bourbon Street with? You know the rules. You win, you bring me. Good luck.

Citizens of Ohio, Get Ready to Move

Famous Ohioan Neil Armstrong took the biggest leap in the history of mankind, but he could be upstaged by another alumnus of the Buckeye State. The venerable Jerry Springer is planning a bid for the U.S. Senate, where his experience presiding over such shows as "Honey, I'm A Prostitute," will no doubt be an asset.

That's not the only news item of interest in this week of frozen testicles. Here's what else is happening around our increasingly frightening world.

Serena Williams Has Huge Juggs — Almost as amazing as her four consecutive major titles is this photo by David Gray of Reuters. Thanks, man.

Electronic Attack Slows Internet — In case you're wondering why it's slower to download porn today. Well, there's always tomorrow!

RIAA Wins Battle to ID Kazaa User — A federal judge has ruled that Verizon must disclose the identity of a man who was apparently committing horrid acts of copyright violation while using the best application for music-stealing and porn pilfering file sharing.

Front-Line Troops Disproportionately White, not Black — After a higher percentage of blacks died in Vietnam as compared to the U.S. population, the numbers have swayed the other way.

FOX 'Journalists' Ordered to Treat R. Kelly With Special Care — A Chicago TV news staff was delivered a memo to be very careful about how they portray R. Kelly, a good friend of a senior news anchor. Never leave a paper trail when doing something this stupid.

Porn Profits Attract Blue-Chip Corporations — How corporate giants are profiting off porn. Like Larry Flynt says, if only prisoners were interested in porn, he wouldn't be living in a mansion.

Man Beating Dog With Gun Shoots Himself — Let's play guess the state. New York? Nope. California? Nope. Virginia? Oh, yes.

Beat This Caption: Pssst!

"Yo baby, ya' know how I always wanted to be in a threesome with a white chick twice my size?"

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Dion Rich: The World's Most Talented Freeloader

The Raiders' Rich Gannon is quite nimble for a quarterback, but nobody runs the sneak more effectively than Dion Rich. The 73-year-old gives new meaning to the term free spirit. He's attended 33 Super Bowls — all without a ticket.

What Jerry Rice is to receiving, what Joe Theismann is to hyperbole, what chili is to air pollution, Dion Rich is to gate-crashing.

Despite increasingly tight security and the NFL's keen awareness of his mission, Rich has his sights set on sneaking into Super Bowl XXXVII in San Diego on Sunday. You can bet against the Raiders, you can bet against the Bucs, but don't bet against Rich.

Last year, Sports Illustrated columnist Rick Reilly followed Rich in his quest to bust into the first Super Bowl since 9/11. It took him six minutes. People have been known to watch the UPN network for longer than that.

After the NFL threatened him with jail time, Rich no longer seeks to be part of the action, like when he stood on the podium to help the Packers receive the first-ever Super Bowl trophy, or when he helped carry Dallas Cowboys coach Tom Landry off the field after Super Bowl XII (pictured). A complimentary, live view of America's biggest sporting event will suffice.

For this guy, there really is no such thing as a free lunch. That's not even worth his time.

Other Super Bowl Links:

Grading the Super Bowls — Eric Neel rates all previous 36 contests from A+ ( Rams over Titans, XXXIV) to F (Colts over Cowboys, V). Three of the last five have been quite good. Let's hope the trend continues, Warren Sapp loses and I'm not so drunk I have to call in sick this year.

Twinkie Killa — A site dedicated to all things anti-Warren Sapp, who suffers from an acute case of diarrhea of the mouth.

Dr. Z.'s Forecast — The only writer whose predictions carry weight with me picks the Raiders to win and the Bucs to cover. Also see his positional analysis.

Prisco: Gruden Only Worth Price if Bucs Win — I disagree, believing that the Bucs have already gotten their money's worth (four high draft picks and $8 million) for coach Jon Gruden. He took them out of company with seven other franchises who have never made the Super Bowl (Cleveland, Detroit and New Orleans the most prominent). Each one of those clubs would pony up the same if it guaranteed them a Super Bowl berth.

Head 2 Head: Super Bowl vs. Academy Awards

Here's how Head 2 Head works: I throw out a debate between two people, places or things, and you tell me which you prefer.

Today's question is, Which do you look more forward to watching, the Super Bowl or the Oscars?

Super Bowl: The annual matchup pitting the NFL's best players — some of whom have never been to jail.
Pros: Who doesn't get chills when players charge out of the tunnel when introduced in front of 130 million viewers? Not to mention the frenzied wagering on everything from the opening coin flip to the amount of gas John Madden passes. And there's the annual reincarnation of Britney Spears in a slutty Pepsi ad.
Cons: Blowouts make a four-hour telecast seem as long as a rebroadcast of "Roots." Your favorite band's cool factor drops tenfold if it plays the halftime show. Sometimes the Bills represent the AFC.

Academy Awards: Hollywood kisses its own ass for the world.
Pros: Lots and lots of boobs. Watching millionaires sweat and feign coolness when they lose. The historical packages are cool, and the remembrances of those passed are always touching. Musical performances are usually top-rate.
Cons: Not as many boobs as at the Golden Globes. Anytime someone other than Steve Martin talks. The awards for best score, editing, blah, blah, blah. And those explanations of the accounting process!

To respond, click "Post a Comment" below.

Why Everyone in Hoboken, N.J., Can Blow Me

Everyone who lives in Hoboken, please get out your English-to-guido dictionaries and read this: The biggest lie you can ever tell is, "Living in Hoboken is just like living in the city." Next to that, "I have a really cute friend you should date" sounds believable.

Last week, a Hoboken-dwelling coworker e-mailed me Hobokeni.com columnist Joe Concha's assertion that living is Hoboken is better than living in New York. Better! It's in times like these that I understand why King of the Guidos himself, Frank Sinatra (pictured), left town and never came back. (The residents don't seem to understand this. His picture adorns every business in the mile square of cologne and muscle cars.)

Let me explain why the average one-bedroom Hoboken apartment rents for $1,335.00 as opposed to $1,875.00 in Manhattan. Because nobody is his right mind would live there for the same price. Nobody. No-Body.

The crux of Concha's argument is that New Yorkers don't live the "Sex in the City" life, presuming that we don't take advantage of what we pay for, just because his own NYC friends don't. But until someone in Hoboken can tell me they can walk — walk! — out their apartment to visit the Central Park Zoo, shop on Fifth Avenue, and take pictures in Times Square, as I do, or walk — walk! — to work at the most influential building in magazine publishing, as I do, I don't want to hear about floor-plan comparisons or the "15-minute myth."

Seriously, everyone in Hoboken will tell you it takes 15 minutes to get to Manhattan. That's if you live inside the PATH station, catch the train just before it leaves and your destination is 34 Street. Otherwise its 40 minutes to midtown and half a day to anywhere on the East Side. If you're traveling at night, bring a pillow and a blanket.

Concha wishes us "good luck finding a good mall." Thanks, we need it. I've got within a 10-minute walk three Barnes & Nobles, two Banana Republics, the holy trinity of chick shops (Pottery Barn, Pier One and Crate & Barrel), Ethan Allen, Tower Records, dealerships for BMW, Mercedes and Land Rover, multiple movie theaters, Lincoln Center and more bars and restaurants than you can count. A 10-minute walk in Hoboken takes you to your broken-in car. In which you can drive to your mall's Chess King.

Among Concha's arguments is that Hoboken has BYOB, thus cheaper, restaurants. Yeah, but not every dinner is a sausage and peppers hero, my man. Sometimes dates don't appreciate brown-bagging a 40. And we don't need to save money for the latest car payment on the Firebird.

From there the arguments get even worse. He rags on New Yorkers for spending $300 for a monthly parking spot. Interesting. Maybe next time he can bag on Park Ave. residents for hiring limo drivers or Knicks fans for buying front-row tickets. Imagine how right he would be ... if these people couldn't actually afford it.

When was the last time someone told you an interesting story about a night spent in Hoboken? And I mean someone who's had more than 10 beers in his life. Getting slapped with a DUI and waking up next to your frat brother's vomit doesn't count as "interesting," either.

Thankfully, we were spared the classic Hoboken mantra about having the best view of New York. Sorry, Garden Staters. We have the best view of New York. It's right in front of us. We can touch it and feel it. It lives, it breathes, and it ain't found in New Jersey next to the landfills.

(Disclaimer: I have a lot of great friends who live in Hoboken. I kid with them a lot and relish my Manhattan Snob standing. I often party with them in New York. And at the end of the night, I help them find a $40 cab back to Hoboken. Suckers.)

Other New York Links:

David Vogler's 9/11 Video Footage — Amateur clips from a friend of a friend. Sept. 11 no longer feels like yesterday, but the very real panic heard and seen in the video brings a lot of emotions back.

Daily Candy — A daily nugget of must-know information — deals, openings, trends — about the greatest city in the world. And it ain't Hoboken.

What's Missing From P-ulK--cher.com? The T&A

I cover sports for the jocks. I linked to "Joe Millionaire" underwear shots for the chicks. I share tech news for the nerds. But what have I done for lipstick lesbians? Nothing, till now.

Students, please be seated for Anatomy 101: The Female Body.

I was watching football with J-No from H-Town at PK.com world headquarters Sunday night when a buddy of mine called from Red Rock West and said, "Get down here. It's Slut City." Now, I jam to Detroit Rock City and Paradise City. I loathe both Vatican City and Jersey City. But nothing gets me in a checkered cab quicker than a report from Slut City. Within 10 minutes we were sandwiched among a packed patronage to see 11 girls get judged on their bar dancing, bartending and cleavage skills for three open shifts at the biker bar/bachelorette party spot. (How that combo ever came to be I'll never know.).

I used to be a huge fan of RRW and, after getting burned with another cigarette and seeing a another biker punch out an outnumbered preppy, I was reminded why I don't go back too much. Then a miracle not seen since the days of Moses occurred. Just as the girls hit the bar for their final auditions, we found ourselves with a comfortable amount of space, because some dweebs left to get their beauty sleep. How cute.

In the end, the audience was asked to cheer, Apollo style, for the three winners. I tried to find out which girls were single before deciding who to cheer for. I ended up cheering for them all, at 88 decibels, four for each breast.

In the end, Dia, and two girls whose names escape me, won. Congratulations to them. And to Red Rock for putting on a kick-ass show. They reminded me why I never go to predictable bars.

Photos From the Tryouts: PK.com's | NYCBP.com's

And now, let's catch up with some PK.com favorite hotties...

• Kelli Graham — I recently sent follow-up questions to our July 2002 interview to the Naked News' newest entertainment correspondent. She recently did a photoshoot for Tongue magazine and I reminded her that I supported her long before Gene Simmons.

• Michelle's Wonderland — Our favorite 21-year-old Texas hottie keeps getting closer to the inevitable — nudity. She's actively involved in her Yahoo! club, and capitalized on a strong online following by landing local TV gigs and selling autographed 8x10s. She also has pics of her and my favorite bartender, Sara of Coyote Ugly, at the CU grand opening in Dallas. I asked her for an interview this past weekend, but no reply as of yet. Do your part by e-mailing her as a member of the PK.com army.

• Shannon Nowak — Shannon's main interest, when she's not dreaming of me, is her skin-care line. If you enjoy masturbating and eating too many French fries, this is the girl for you. You can also catch her lurking in her Yahoo! club, where she often posts Weekend Special photos.

• Cowgirl Haley — Haley hasn't been nearly as active online as we hoped, but she just busted out some new photos and even newer photos just before this update went to press. Welcome back, Haley.

• NYCBP.com Hottie Bartenders — Newest on our favorite site for booze and boobs is Timmie and Rebecca, the Thursday night team at Yogi's, that dump on Broadway between 75 and 76 Streets that my friends laugh at me for going to all the time. Once you get used to killing the men's room flies with streams of hot urine it's not that bad.

Whew, that was a lot of women in one night. Even I'm worn out. I hope you lesbians enjoyed that. And don't worry, gentlemen, I'll be back with a sports update probably tomorrow.

The World's Oldest Bottles of Salad Dressing

Along with directing lost tourists to gay bars, one of the best time-killers in New York is to play "Find the Oldest Thing in the Store." An advertising coworker taught me how to play back in 1994:

1. Go to a bodega that derives 95% of its sales from cigarettes and beer
2. Find cans and boxes of food no one buys, like Cream of Sum Yung Gai soup and powdered breast milk
3. Find the copyright date on the package
4. A good find ranges between 3-5 years old

It's a game that's simultaneously disgusting and entertaining. Kinda like watching "The Anna Nicole Show" or the latest Mets free-agent signing seeing his career implode.

Nothing I ever found could hold a candle to The World's Oldest Bottles of Salad Dressing, however. The label on the Russian Creamy Dressing from Seven Seas reads, "best when purchased before March 17, 1976." Shows you what they know. The label on the other bottle — like many of your 401(k) accounts — has disintegrated.

It's at times like this that I celebrate the Internet for all its randomness, and the police department for being nearby should I discover that people who keep 27-year-old bottles of salad dressing live close to me.

(Thanks to Joe for the link.)

Other Web Finds:

The Modified Librarian — Your normal, average, everyday portal to the discussion of body modification in the context of librarianship. Real librarians, real piercings, real tattoos. Real scary. (Thanks, Kevin)

Top Five PCs for Under $900 — PC World suggests some cost-effective options for those looking to upgrade their porn addiction. Allow me to suggest a refurbished HP. Mine runs great.

The World's Strangest Phobias — Did you know that there are terms for fears of flutes, sunshine and sermons? I have a fear of people with such fears.

Mandarin Design Daily Blog — Quick and valuable web design tips and tricks on a daily basis. (Found on J-Mo)

Maxim's Found Porn — The magazine's amazing discoveries section gets reproduced online. Know where else you can find porn? On your hard drive.

Review: Kiss and Make-Up, by Gene Simmons

Gene Simmons is creative, driven and smart. Just ask him.

I know that may sound as revealing as Red Sox fans being unrefined, Richard Simmons having thought about kissing a man, and me being hung like a horse, but this book does contain insight even for a longtime Kiss fan like myself.

Unfortunately, for those of us who like to live in a fantasy land as perfect as a White Castle cheeseburger, the new news is not good news, and one has to question whether the purpose of this book was to gain a measure of revenge against Ace Frehley and Peter Criss, who Gene painted as wasted, belligerent, racists who contributed very little to one of rock's biggest franchises. He bagged on them so often and so hard that it read like a deposition in a court battle. The question is, Why did the band keep these guys around?

And the answer, as is told to us, is "for the fans."

Huh?

This is where we need to take out the Gene Simmons-to-English dictionary. "For the fans" too often means "for our wallets."

Gene says they tried as hard as possible, despite a tenuous relationship, to keep the original foursome together for the fans. For the fans or for their wallets? Gene says they organized their own Kiss conventions for the fans when they noticed small ones popping up around the country. For the fans or for their wallets? If there were more examples of how Kiss truly went out of their way to do something altruistic (which means without regard for personal benefit), I could believe his claim that they did things for other people.

Gene writes lovingly about his mother, who raised him in both Israel and Queens, N.Y., and the personal side of the book reads a little bit like Howard Stern with a bass guitar. He's tall, awkward, bright, mostly shy but with a dream to entertain. (And what's with the comic book fetish?) What's lacking is a musical component to the book. Gene writes of his earliest influences, like The Beatles, but we're never quite sure where he is talent-wise as he moves from amateur to professional. (Some would say they were always amateur musicians.) The book wouldn't need much editing if Gene Simmons played shortstop for the Mets rather than bass for a rock band. And if Gene played for the Mets, they'd be a lot better.

A glaring omission in the book is any significant portion dedicated to Paul Stanley, who Gene acknowledges to have enjoyed a great personal and professional relationship with. But he's only mentioned a few times, and that has caused more than a few to question whether this tell-all is really a tell-some. Not that we want Gene to dish dirt on a third member of the band, but to say almost nothing about a guy who basically "hosted" Kiss concerts for over 25 years makes no sense, considering the unabashed disclosure about other band members. If one knew nothing about Kiss before reading this book, he would've thought Paul was in the band for a week. And people named Paul are not to be ignored, damn it.

Now that I got my criticisms out of the way, I can say that Gene remains an intriguing person. First, he lived through a quarter-century of rock regalia without drinking, smoking or doing drugs. That is a strong-willed, confident person. I've always found him to be sensible. And, while he takes advantages of opportunities, it can be argued that he helped create those opportunities as much as anyone.

I don't fault Kiss for capitalizing on its own creation. If people are gullible enough to buy four editions of the same "collectible" book or album or whatever, that's not Kiss' problem. If people continue to buy greatest hits albums with the same music they already own, that's not Kiss' problem. I have a few Kiss items in my possession, and three of them are concert ticket stubs. They were three of the best shows I've ever seen and, whether Kiss went all-out for the fans or for their wallets, we all made out in the end.

In Five Words of Less: Why nothing about Paul Stanley?

(Ed. Note: In one of those is-anybody-paying-attention moments, I discovered that the paperback version of the book is $12.60 on bn.com. The downloadable eBook version is $19.95, plus the cost of your own paper and ink. And they wonder why content is hard to sell online.)

Links: Amazon Reviews | B&N Reviews | Timeline of Gene's Makeup

How's This for Crappy News? A Pooper Scooper Convention

St. Louis is one of our country's most historic cities. It's where Lewis and Clark departed on their exploration of Louisiana Territory. It's where Tina Turner launched her career. It's the birthplace of NYCBP.com's dive bar documentarian, Kevin.

And this weekend, St. Louis proudly hosts the first-ever "Powwow of Pooper Scoopers." And that's no bullshit.

You thought rock musicians were a danger to repeat hotel business. Wait till the Association of Professional Animal Waste Specialists drops by. Expect the bar conversations to go something like this:

Man #1: Hi, we're from New Orleans. We just came up north to catch a Blues game and to see the arch. What do you do?

Man #2: I clean up dog shit.

Man #1 (To wife): We're outta here.

Those of you in St. Louis will not want to miss the main event: a contest to see whose scooper is quickest. For the sake of this country, I really, really wish I'd made this up.

Other News Items:

• Woman Downs 10 Pints of Wine to Win 'Miss Drunk' — Later that night, she laid claim to "Miss Passed Out in a Sewer."

• Few Takers for CD Settlement Cash — Filling out a simple online form could net you $20 if you bought a music CD between 1995 and 2000, but Wired reports that there have been few takers. You don't need a receipt, or taste in music.

• Man Loses Job for Blogging — His company apparently wasn't pleased at the return on their investment — the several updates a day on his personal home page.

• Free Condom Harsh Reminder of Sexless Existence — The Onion reports on a ficticious female bookstore manager who ain't gettin' any.

The Night Conan O'Brien and I Watched Ugly Strippers

Conan O'Brien would kill me if he knew I was telling you this: On the night of Oct. 1, 1996, he, sidekick Andy Richter and I watched the same trailer-park dancers in the shittiest strip bar this side of Lookers in Syracuse, the former Billy's Topless on Sixth Ave. at 24 Street.

(By the way, the purpose of this story is to have an excuse to share with you iFilm's video of Conan O'Brien's greatest highlights. It made me laugh out loud several times.)

Now onto the ugly details. And I mean ugly.

I ended up at Billy's because I was depressed that the Yankees had lost Game 1 of the 1996 AL Divisional Series to the Rangers — and because Billy's charged no cover and had $4 beers and skanky women, whereas most places at that time on a Tuesday had $4 beers and no women.

Billy's was never known for having the best talent. I was fortunate that night, because none of the stage girls appeared to be pregnant. In between thoughts of "can I get a disease from drinking bottled beer?" and "why doesn't that crack whore get her teeth fixed?" I wondered, "What kind of loser, besides me, ends up in a joint like this on a Tuesday night?"

The answer, unbelievably, was the up-and-coming NBC late-night genius and his trusty Tonto. They were just enjoying the view, seated five feet behind me at the bar. And I'm sure they woke up the next morning, like me, and promised to never, ever do something like that again.

Other Web Finds

My Session With Dr. Phil — TIME's Joel Stein gets a lesson from Oprah's guru: to watch more porn.

Vin Diesel Breakdances — A video of the baddest white guy (I think) on the planet b-b-b-reakin'!

ALF and Rhonda's Spaceship — Part of the world famous and truly scary ALF webring, this site dedicated to the collect call pitchman makes me pray to get nuked by North Korea. (Thanks, David)

Man Uses Coupons to Try to Buy Car — A New Hampshire man took 200 $200-off coupons to Toyota. He was told to leave and get lawyer ... and a life.

WWF Raw Turns 10, and I See Triple H's Bare Ass

Tuesday night I saw the 10th anniversary special of the WWF's "Raw is War," the super-successful prime time pro wrestling show that I watched religiously from 1999-2000 to see which of the bimbo valets were going to wind up in a bikini mud match.

It was broadcast live from Times Square, the mecca of pro wrestling — because so many people from Ohio are there visiting — and it was one of those spotting-your-third-grade-teacher-in-public experiences. The wrestlers were sitting at banquet tables dressed in regular clothes. Where are the Speedos? Where are the knee-high leather boots? For god's sake, where are the singlets? It all lacked the homoerotic authenticity of pro wrestling.

I saw Classy Freddie Blassie for the first time since we shared a table at a Japanese hibachi restaurant. Me and my brother got his autograph. That was classy of him. He was known as the Fashion Plate of Wrestling, which should tell you about the dressing habits of the other guys, 'cause Freddie wore gold leisure suits and medallion necklaces.

I have many great in-person wrestling memories: Iron Sheik vs. Sgt. Slaughter at sold-out MSG when I was around 12 years old. When Sarge won, it was like V-E day in Times Square again. Years later, my brother grabbed the microphone from Sarge and yelled to the audience, "We're gonna bomb the commies!" And, of course, that Monday night in New Haven when I experienced an entire arena filled with 10-year-olds screaming, "It's time to get on the Ho Train!" and "'Pimpin' ain't easy!"

And I didn't even mention Sexual Chocolate Mark Henry's affair with 78-year-old Mae Young, who gave birth to a hand on television as Gerald Brisco vomited next to her.

The lowlight of the anniversary show was when Triple H told Stephanie McMahon to close her eyes and pucker up. That's when he dropped his pants and the camera zoomed in on his no-fat bare ass. The homoeroticism had returned, after all!

Also in Sports:

• Future NBA Star Gets Hummer for Birthday, Scores 50 Points — High school hoops sensation LeBron James has come under scrutiny for receiving a $50,000 2003 Hummer H2 as an 18th-birthday gift from his mom, making him the last guy on the team to get a hummer from her. (Ouch!) He also broke the school record for most points in a game (50) and most egotistical comment ("When I'm in the zone there's nothing anybody can do. I don't need to show anybody anything. I got the whole package.'').

• Ron Dayne's Agent Demands Client's Trade From Giants — Shit, where are we gonna get a guy who can run into the back of someone's ass and fall forward 10 inches? Wait, I know. Me, after gorging on Taco Bell Gorditas for four months.

• Guy LaFleur Goes Disco, and Other Swinging Singles — Maxim reviews some of the most heinous penalties in sports history: when athletes record music.

• Kings of the Microphone — ESPN.com's Page 2 ranks the sports dignitaries who were at their best (or worst) at press conferences. How they left Dick Vermeil — who Rick Reilly once wrote "will bawl at the retirement of a blocking sled" — off this list I'll never know. And the "honorable mention" Hal McRae longjohns-wearin', toss-the-phone-like-a-discus, "I'm sick of all this bullshit!" rampage was the most classic moment of unintended comedy of all time, sports or otherwise.

• Sports' Worst Hair — Another list from ESPN.com Page 2, chronicling the follicle follies of the likes of Gene Keady, who has a wife while I don't. If she's better-looking than a bowl of stew, I'm killing myself.

Beat This Caption: Two for the Show

"The world's best-looking Mets fan scores two tickets to Opening Day"

(To beat this caption, click "Post a Comment" below.)

Full Disclosure: SkinnyGuy.com

My favorite features of what is known as "my old site" (best described as "a wacky combination of semi-porn, midgets and general mayhem") were the "Full Disclosure" interviews I conducted with various members of the online community. They included a future Naked News anchor, a bondage queen, a certifiably insane NYC bar owner, the man who coined Jump the Shark, and my all-time favorite fan, Shannon Nowak.

And so I have decided to continue the series. Model Jill Sharp asked for an interview, then never sent back answers to questions I sent (twice). So I hereby call for a national boycott to masturbating to any of her photos.

Soon, we'll have a follow-up interview with Kelli Graham, but for now I present a Q&A with a guy I've known since he was 8, when I reamed his ass in Tecmo Bowl with my N.Y. Giants and a very coked up Lawrence Taylor. Now, Nick is a big player is at SkinnyGuy.com, a terrific mail-order movie site.

Now you know I don't plug sites I don't really like, and even though I watch movies as often as I dream about sex with Rosie O'Donnell, I still enjoy visiting skinnyguy.com and reading its snarky content.

And now, the latest Full Disclosure...

Site: SkinnyGuy.com
Description: Content-driven retailer of DVDs, VHS, and CDs
Birth Date of Site: March 2000
Contact E-mail: info@skinnyguy.com

1. Why is buying movies and music from SkinnyGuy.com better than just stealing it from the local Tower Records?
One, you don't have to leave your home. Two, there's no danger of an impromptu Shakira concert breaking out while you're browsing.

2. How do you keep your prices so low, and thus affordable to people with so little ambition that they spend half their lives watching Cameron Diaz movies?
If we gave away that secret, we'd be the ones watching the Diaz movies.

3. What types of items do you find hard to keep stocked?
It really runs the gamut. Anything from the Coen brothers to the Barbarian brothers. Any titles beginning with "Indecent," "Illicit." or "Indiscreet." Actually, the entire "I" section has pretty high turnover because you've also got "Immoral," "Intimate," and "Indochine."

4. You offer some great deals when items are sold to you in bulk. Do you get suspicious when the same guy keeps finding DVDs that fell off the backs of trucks?
We have a very good relationship with Leo, so we prefer not to insult him with unnecessary "questions," or "accusations," or "indictments." If we've learned one thing in the video business, it's that when you load 600 copies of "Hoosiers" in through your alley, you smile and go to lunch.

5. When you sell "Poison Ivy: II" starring a very naked Alyssa Milano, do you include a jizz rag?
What do you take us for? Only the Special Edition version.

6. What are some of the great specials you're featuring now?
"Signs" on DVD - $14.99
"Panic Room" on DVD - $9.99
"Hoosiers" on DVD (of course)- $6.45
"Anna Nicole Smith Double Feature: Skyscraper/To the Limit" on DVD - $9.49

Just to name a few...

7. I'm "done" with my Playboy Video Centerfold: Jessica Hahn VHS tape. Can you take it off my hands?
We'd rather not go near your hands. If you've got in on DVD, though, we'll give you $2.50.

8. Did you know that your actor index pages — Shannon Tweed, for example — could serve as a B-movie jackoff checklist?
We're sensing a theme here. We can accommodate even the classiest of checklists.

9. You guys are based out of Chicago, but I don't see any DVDs of the Cubs winning the 1908 World Series. What gives?
I don't think they've made it to DVD yet, surprisingly. We do have the story of the '85 Bears, though, if you're looking for a little Shufflin' Crew action.

10. What kind of loser is actually buying CDs in this age of music piracy?
The best kind.

11. The "Vanilla Ice - Play That Funky Music White Boy" VHS tape is currently out of stock. Any idea when that's coming in again?
I think I hear Leo's truck pulling up now. How many do you need?

12. What other cool features are available on the site for users, and what can we expect in the future?
We actually just started a new trade-in program, so you can sell us your old CDs and DVDs for instant store credit or cash. We'll give you a real-time quote for each title that you search for on our site, and if you place a buy order at the same time, we'll send you your new items right away. Once you receive the order, you can just use that same box to send us the discs you're trading in. It's never been easier to get rid of that early Spin Doctors album! We also always have a ton of unusual content that can make your lunch hour fly by. In a good way. Hand me that jizz rag.

Paul's Recap:

Thanks to Nick from skinnyguy.com for sharing his insight on the movie-buying habits of virgins everywhere, the real secret to low prices in the world of retail and for offering $2.50 for a Jessica Hahn Playboy DVD. If I actually had one, I'd take him up on his offer. But if I actually had one, I would have killed myself a long time ago.

Also, take note of the site's low shipping rates ($2.25 first item, 50 cents additional). The site is very customer friendly and I truly recommend it. And since I have no bullshit affiliate association with the site, you can trust me.

Want to be interviewed about your site? E-mail Paul.

And the Oscar for Best Sucker Punch Goes To...

They just don't make street brawl videos like they used to. I remember watching them with my dad when I was 10. I'd sit on one of his knees and a spit cup would sit on the other. We would race to see who could finish his six-pack of Bud first. And if Mom was still standing there yapping about the bills, one of us would get up and haul off on her ass.

That's why a tear came to my eye when I saw that Amazon.com is selling an Ultimate Street Brawls video. Some may enjoy the high art of backyard wrestling, but there's nothing like a bunch of drunk white guys risking lifelong eye injuries because someone called Troy Aikman a bitch. And it proved that Jeff Bezos has absolutely no clue what's being sold on his site. (Though I hear he is very pleased with the site's sales of "The Ultimate Guide to Anal Sex for Men".)

Customers who bought the street brawls video recommend two others: "Dale Earnhardt, Jr.: What a Fuckin' Awesome Dude" and "How to Never Get Laid. Like Ever."

Other Web Finds

Wrecked Exotics — A collection of crash photos involving Lamborghinis, Ferraris and all those other models of cars that appear on that cheesy "Decisions" college poster. The only decision a recent college grad has to make is whether to use automatic or manual staple when making copies for 10 hours a day.

Poison's No. 37 NASCAR Racer — MTV may no longer be calling but, as recently as last year, the glam metal band had it own car run in the Pocono 500, which is like the Pocono 250, only twice as boring. (One woman's account of the race w/ photos.)

The Dialectizer — Translate any page into moron, Swedish chef, Elmer Fudd and more. See PK.com in jive. (Thanks to Joe for the link.)

Playboy.com Poll: Nation's Sexiest Weather Gals — Vote for the girl who makes your thermometer rise.

Ain't No Party Like a Blog Party...

Batten down the hatchets, people. The Big Apple Blogger Bash is slated for Feb. 7 at Zanzibar and I plan to attend. Why? Because I enjoy meeting as many men as possible and hope to talk about Star Trek and the persecution of Palestinians and/or Jews all night. No, seriously, the real reason is that female bloggers will be there — and I enjoy having sex with females who do anything.

I look at the next few weeks as a kind of homework period. I'm going to have to sift through all the expected attendees' blogs to weed out the dorks who post about cats, family birthday parties and their sudden realization that being an assistant manager at a Gap is one of those positions in life that Hollywood writes sitcoms around.

And then, of course, I have to determine which blogs are written by single women. Which means I have to actually read what single women have to say. Which means I might kill myself by Feb. 7.

The whole idea seems like legalized stalking. I can comb through posts so old that the ladies won't even remember writing them. And then I can spring Something About Mary-like comments about how I, too, love a blend of hazel nut and vanilla coffee and it just happens to be in my kitchen ... which is a mere 10 feet from my bedroom and a lot of lotion.

Anyway, I plan to go to the party. Any PK.com visitors out there planning to attend? Let me know and let's have some laughs.

(On a complete tangent, I just fired up one of those Lean Hot Pockets, reminding me of one of the best lines I ever heard from a standup comedian: "They should put a warning label on Hot Pockets that reads, "WARNING: You are about to buy Hot Pockets."

Other New York Links:

• Priciest Burger in NYC Debuts at $41 — Now appearing at the Old Homestead restaurant: the biggest suckers not found in Times Square.

• NY Post's 200th Anniversary Photo Exhibit — Some of them aren't even of Jacko, who hasn't gone more than three days since 1993 without being on the cover of the Post.

• Howard Beach: Has Anything Changed? — Newsday's Dennis Duggan (no relation to Hacksaw Jim) reflects on the 15th anniversary of a local crime that made national news because of its racial implications.

Attention, All Fans of Unexpected Wet Hair

Do you get hot at the sight of women unintentionally getting their hair wet? Me neither. But there are at least 486 people who do. As of today, that's the number of members in the Unexpected Wet Hair Yahoo! Group. For these guys, expected wet hair just doesn't cut it.

The intro of the site reads: "This group deals with women wetting their hair, during their beauty rituals, when they don't usually mean to get it wet."

In this case, "deals with" translates to the process of unzipping one's pants with one hand while clicking one's mouse with the other.

It turns out that the site is the sister of the Facial Cleansing Women Group, which has attracted less masturbators members to date (only 290), and may be an e-commerce project from a woman named Lea Foster, who has promised to "lather up" for a $25 donation. The day I pay $25 for a picture of someone washing her face is the day I take all my cash, put it in a heap and set fire to it.

Of course, the good news for people with such fetishes is that there is an anonymous place online where they can participate in "dealing with" unexpected wet hair and facial cleansing. But the bad news is that watching Neutrogena commercials with them has got to be very uncomfortable.

Other Web Finds:

Whatever Dude's Top Redheads in the Media — Perhaps the only web page in existence with pictures of Mrs. Roper, Danny Pintuaro and a cheesed-up Edna's Edibles-era "Facts of Life" cast photo. (Also see WD's top movie sluts.)

Pinocchia.com : Where Beauty Starts at Three Inches — These guys digitally alter photos of female celebrities and give them Pinocchio-like schnozzes. Example: Britney Spears gallery. I know, I'm very scared as well.

Rebecca Romijn-Stamos as "The Bearded Lady" — Screen shots of the model in the 1998 film Dirty Work, in which she sported a full beard. I am now going to eat another lunch, as my last one was just flushed down the toilet.

Joe Millionaire's Underwear Modeling Shots — For all you ladies and gay men out there who like pictures of hairy, beefy dudes posing for a company that sells "men's body and fantasy wear."

Does Anyone Make Toilet Paper to the Stars?

I was staring at the toilet paper at work. The Calista Flockhart-thin economy kind that comes 4,000 sheets to a roll. And I thought, who, if given the choice, would ever use this toiler paper over something more cushiony?

There's some pretty big wigs in my office building. Among the thousands of people who work there every day are some of the most influential people in print media. People who smoke cigars in their offices, defying no-smoking laws apparently binding only to mortals and stenching up the halls. People with private bathrooms. And I wondered, do they use this low-quality toilet paper, too? They gotta use something better, no?

But how good can toilet paper get? Clearly the stuff at work is low-grade. And I use the single-roll red Charmin at home. But is there a super-quality toilet paper that only the DiCaprios, only the Speilbergs, only the Haims can afford?

I met Jeff Bezos once. He's worth a couple billion. I should've asked him what toilet paper he uses.

Other Stupid Things on My Mind:

Bon Jovi Is My Pimp: Need a date ... or three? Get Bon Jovi tickets. I ordered four for the Mon., Feb. 10, show at Continental Airlines Arena and promised a girl at work she could have one if she found two hot friends to buy the other two. Done deal. Instant four-way. Screw Match.com; Ticketmaster.com is the way to go.

The Man Was Reading '171 Amazing Cat Facts' for God's Sake: I was in the grocery store for the first time in months this week and the cashier was a man. I didn't know men took jobs as cashiers. Even in Shawshank Redemption, Red's job on the outside was to sack the stuff, not ring it up. Anyway, there wasn't a line, so when I strolled up, I had interrupted his reading of a pocket book. He placed it on the counter and I saw that the cover read, "171 Amazing Cat Facts." I would like to add this to "Amazing Man Facts": If you're reading "171 Amazing Cat Facts" in between ringing up people's purchases of frozen tater tots, bran flakes and ground chuck, you can't be a man.

'She Made Out With My Dog' How a girl described to me her meeting with a woman who runs a bachelor party/escort service in my neighborhood.

Am I Among NYC's 10 Best in Anything? Just this week, I was hanging with one of the top 10-15 pool players in the city. I also learned that my boss is the best biathlete in the city — and the best at his age in the country. Do you know how hard it is to be among the 10 best in anything in a city of eight million? You think your apartment is dirty? Imagine what the 10 dirtiest look like. You think you have a crazy sex story? Imagine what the 10 craziest sex stories in New York are like. And so, of course, I got to thinking, are there 10 men in NYC who masturbate more than I do? If so, god help them.

Beat This Caption: Soccer Fraidy Cats

"Defenders line up during a free kick in the Kenneth Cole vs. Calvin Klein charity soccer match"

(To beat this caption, click "Post a Comment" below.)

King George: The Biggest Badass in Sports

George Steinbrenner is such a great man that he brings a tear to many an eye. Especially to fans of the Red Sox, Mets or one of those "small-market" clubs like Houston or Philadelphia (the fourth- and fifth-most populated cities in America), who are always crying about the success of the Yankees, winners of six World Series titles since Ol' Stein assumed ownership 30 years ago. (No other franchise has won more than two in that time.)

After persuading Japan's best hitter and Cuba's best pitcher to sign with the Yankees, Steinbrenner was named Sporting News' Most Powerful Person in Sports, placing him ahead of every league commissioner, every athlete, every television executive and every former XFL cheerleader/current porn star. And if Columbians ever put down the nose candy long enough to learn how to pitch, we'd take their best, too.

I wasn't always a supporter of Steinbrenner. When he was suspended from baseball in the early '90s, I was at Yankee Stadium when a huge sign unfurled from the upper deck that read "Keep George Out!" Like the rest of the crowd, I cheered wildly. But when I saw Jesse Barfield strike out for the 196th straight time and watched Andy Stankiewicz tarnish the right side of the infield blessed with the presence of Don Mattingly, I knew we needed a spark from a man who would accept nothing less than first place, whether or not he hired and fired more people than a strip club owner. A man who would emerge from a fight — in an elevator! — during the 1981 World Series with a fat lip and a broken hand. A man whose mere being would elicit more laughs on Seinfeld than any female ever cast on that show.

That man was George M. Steinbrenner III. The M is short for "Motherfuckin'."

All hail King George.

ESPN Classic Bio | Timeline | Cleveland Magazine's 1974 Profile

Other Sports Links

• Giants' Final Report Card — The New York Post rates the G-Men, who were as terrible as an offense could be for the beginning of the season, at every position. In the end, I'll put Collins, Barber, Toomer and Shockey against any QB, RB, WR and TE foursome. Any foursome.

• MLB Hall of Fame to Determine Caps on Plaques — No more team posturing like the Yanks did with Reggie. The Hall will determine whether Gary Carter goes in as a Met or Expo. And my money says he'll be the first player with a Canadian team's cap on his plaque.

• 10 Best NFL Playoff Performances — Excluding the Super Bowl, ESPN.com ranks the 10 best individual playoff performances. No Adam Vanatieri against the Raiders in 2002? No Ricky Watters and his five rushing TDs against the Giants? Whatever they're smoking in Bristol, Conn., send some to the Big Apple.

• ESPN.com Page 2's Daily Quickie — The site's latest feature is a McDonald's version of everything you need to know as a sports fan. Who won, who lost, who got arrested, what decade Pete Rose's hair style is from, which bath house Mike Piazza visits. Everything.

Is That Vince Neil Using Corey Feldman's Toothbrush?

Emmanuel "Webster" Lewis returns to TV Thursday night, and he's bringing MC Hammer and Gabrielle Carteris with him.

The reality show is called "The Surreal Life," and it's just the latest in a long line of great WB network programming that includes the Emmy Award-winning "Seinfeld" (reruns), "Frasier" (reruns) and "Cheers" (reruns).

Other members of the cast include former Motley Crue singer Vince Neill, former child actor Corey Feldman, former "Baywatch" actress Brande Roderick and former "Survivor II" cast member Jerri Manthey — all perfectly willing to sacrifice shame for a reunion with their former bank accounts.

So, what should we expect, aside from as much cringing as I did watching five minutes of "The Growing Pains Movie?" In a recent L.A. Times article about the show, Feldman hinted at something akin to "Masterpiece Theater," saying, "I will honestly be very upset if [the show] has the appearance of making fun of any of us."

And I will be upset if Milli Vanilli doesn't perform at the housewarming party.

Other Web Finds:

• Invisibles Movie Quiz — They erase faces from movie scenes and you guess which film they're from. I could be wrong but I think the one with the Titanic in the background is "Titanic."

• Thatch Cay Island for Sale on eBay — 230 acres of beautiful U.S. Virgin Island is for sale via the same auction site on which you can buy a talking middle finger torch lighter. If I win, I'm renaming Thatch Cay to Thong Island.

• The Covers Project — A database of artists whose songs have been covered (think Bruce Springsteen) and artists who've done the covering (think Michael Bolton).

• John Ashcroft's Post-9/11 Press Conference on SNL — A "Saturday Night Live" parody of the attorney general having more questions than answers.

• Websites for People Who Hate to Read — Slate spotlights some of the web's best photologs.

Review: Amsterdam Billiard Club

The night normally begins with men stroking their shafts. It continues with the sound of balls smacking. And, in the end, someone gets screwed on the table.

Yep, I'm talking about the great game of pool and the joint at which I run racks (well, half-racks) and my mouth with equal aplomb — Amsterdam Billiard Club, located appropriately enough on Amsterdam Ave. at 76 Street on Manhattan's luxurious Upper West Side. (East Side location at 86 Street between Second and Third Aves. a former PK.com haunt, as well. It's safe to say I did not leave my mark on that joint.)

Amsterdam is a clean, modern pool hall with 30 tables, a bar, late hours and a rate that generally runs around $8/hour per person. Some contend it provides the best entertainment value in New York. Hell, you can't even get mugged around here for less than $10/hour. And just going out on a date cost as much as $50/hour, and that doesn't even guarantee sex if the girl is Catholic.

I play in Amsterdam's eight-ball league, which is popular enough to fill four nights' worth of divisions (Sunday-Wednesday), allowing players to choose the night that fits their schedule, and it costs just $12/week to get paired up against a member of an opposing four-person team and battle in a race to three of eight-ball, then a race to four in nine-ball.

Like church-sponsored singles night, more often than not you'll get paired off with a nerd. Such is how I would describe a lot of the crowd who come with their own sticks, their own three-fingered guiding-hand gloves and, all too often, their own sweatpants or ponytails. I've had a good time playing many opponents, but some are too deliberate for their talent level, surveying the table layout like it's another invasion of Normandy, only to sink two balls and miss.

But none of my friends play pool but once every few months, so I go for a weekly hour-and-a-half fix of the game I love and entertain the very, very offhand chance I might actually get paired up with a chick. Never happened this past season, but that's because the women (about 30 percent of the co-ed league) run at a 4-5 level and the guys are mostly 5-8. (The difference between a 5 and a 7 — which is my handicap, as well as drooling — is that the 5 can take two balls off the table before shooting at the eight ball.)

Registration for the 10-week (or so) spring league is Monday, Jan. 13, and if you're looking for a regular, relaxing way to unwind after work, sign up with the rest of the beginners and intermediates. And if you make it Sunday night, maybe you'll have the pleasure of getting your ass kicked by me.

Links:

Amsterdam's Crappy Website — Not updated since 1999, like Tom Arnold's love life.

Tips on Aiming — It's all geometry, like projectile vomiting.

NFL Admits Giants Robbed of Second Chance at FG

Just when my stomach was returning to normal health, the NFL today admitted that officials were wrong in not calling a pass-interference penalty on the final play in the 49ers' win over the Giants. An eligible receiver was mauled and, although the Giants were rightfully flagged for having an ineligible man downfield, penalties should have offset and the Giants should have gotten another opportunity to kick a 41-yard field goal, which goes through, what, maybe 80 percent of the time in the pros? I'm not a bitter, face-painting freak, but man that makes the offseason so long.

Also in Sports:

• Giants Snapper Faces Music After Costly Blunders — If the game wasn't played by humans, it wouldn't be as much fun. I feel bad that a long career came to an end in such fashion. And he snaps a football better than I could, so who am I to criticize?

Like Pete Rose Said, Games Are Only Great When You Win

It's a slight miracle that I was able to hold down the beer and chicken flautas in my stomach after the Giants' 24-point meltdown, a choke-job made no more pleasant by the two pessimistic old guys standing behind me who repeatedly predicted disaster and would make the Muppets' geriatric tandem of Stadler and Waldorf seem as cheery as Siegfried & Roy. Nor by the four female Eagles fans who threatened to strip off my Jeremy Shockey No. 80 jersey and burn it, but didn't have the courtesy to offer some cheap sex as a consolation prize.

The only good news to come out of the 39-38 loss to the 49ers is that I never have to trek to the East Side again to reap the rewards of the "good luck" brought upon by Mo's Caribbean. Everyone gets a second chance in my book, so I will not avoid the place, but in terms of me absolutely having to spend $16 round trip in cab fare to watch a football game ... forget it.

The other thing I'll remember about today is the genius who wrote for TIME.com that the 49ers and Giants' special teams were "anything but." He might've gone only 2-2 with his picks against the spread, but was he or was he not prophetic about how pathetic the Giants' punting and kicking games were? And if the G-Men ever stopped the 49ers at all in the fourth quarter, maybe we could've seen San Fran's special teams in a pressure spot.

There are only two things that made the ending bearable. One is that I watched the game with a fan of the Saints, a team whose late-season collapses are so pitiful that Dolphins fans can make fun of them. And the other is that I have the ability to rage during the game and leave it behind when it ends, win or lose. When sports stops being fun, it just ain't worth following.

Also in Sports:

• Fiesta Bowl Sets Ratings Record — I've long known that sports is a form of entertainment that some people are most passionate about, but more people than you realize don't give a rat's ass about. (I once had an argument about who was more recognizable — Larry King or Ken Griffey, Jr. This was when Junior could actually hit. I said then and I say now that any constant face on TV outshines sports stars in terms of recognizability 100 times over. If you don't agree, see if you can find someone on the street who doesn't know who Larry King is. Impossible. Then find an older relative who doesn't know who Kobe Bryant is. Piece of cake.) The highest-rated market for Friday night's game between Miami and Ohio State — which was, in ESPN lexicon, an Instant Classic — was Columbus, Ohio, which did a 52.1 rating. A big, big number considering people surely piled on to watch one TV, leaving many sets in the city out of commission. The M*A*S*H finale did a 60 rating nationwide in 1983.

• Clarett: I Want to Be an Outside Linebacker — Perhaps the leading candidate for the 2004 Heisman Trophy, Ohio State RB Maurice Clarett, who reportedly made a quick exit after the Buckeyes' dramatic national-championship victory over Miami, wants to also play on the other side of the ball next season. This caps a bizarre week in which he accused the university of forcing him to miss the funeral of a friend who was murdered at a scene in which drugs, money and bullet casings were found. Anyone else smell a Carl Everett-like sense of paranoia?

• San Fran 2002's Most Successful Sports City — They only have two damn teams, and with the Giants making it to the World Series and the 49ers going 10-6, they post the best cumulative winning percentage among America's sports cities. New York came in 4th (thanks for nothing, Mets, once again), while Boston (it'll never happen again) finished in second and Cincinnati did what it did best, make like an ass and come in last.

Who's Up for a Hearty Bowl of Cock Soup?

People put a lot of strange things in their mouths. And I'm not just talking about in those motels by the Holland Tunnel. I know this because half my family is Jewish, and I don't even see most of those ingredients, let alone eat them, but for once a year. One thing about the Jews, you can't say they lack originality when it comes to the kitchen.

For example, Mexican restaurants have 75 things on the menu, but only three ingredients in the kitchen: beef, beans and rice. Don't tell me you've ever been drunk in a Mexican restaurant and were 100% certain that you got served the right dish. You know what I mean. You and friends look at each other with a quizzical look that says either "I'm not sure I'm gonna make it out of here without having to drop trow in that disgusting bathroom" or "This looks nothing like what I ordered." But you just go with it because it's all beef, beans and rice anyway — and, plus, there's a Barnes & Noble around the corner with a much cleaner bathroom.

The Jews, on the other hand, marinate all kinds of fish in glass jars, pickle everything, and they eat tongue (like the one you brush at night to scrape off the bacteria), as well as sclishkas, pletzl, and kichelkies (which I had a nasty case of sophomore year).

So what's my point? I have none. I just needed an excuse to show you a picture of a packet of Cock Soup, which I remember from its original name, Powdered Jizz.

If you don't think this product is real, allow these British dudes to prove you wrong.

To learn about foods almost as bizarre as cock soup, visit Kibo's Junk Food Reviews, which includes a Rare Finds From Boston's Chinatown section featuring shrimp chips, Beano green pea snack and strawberry Cheetos.

Other Web Finds:

• Shockey Completes Down and In to Gastineau's Daughter's Tight End — Evidently big enough news to be featured on page 3 of the New York Post, the man with the biggest mullet in New York sacks the hot daughter of the biggest guido in the history of Queens, which is as hard as being the richest guy in Vail, Colo.

• 10 Best Smoking Gun Stories of 2002 — Does not include the picture of the bare-cheated priest hanging out in the French Quarter during Mardi Gras.

• FHM Cover Girl: Brooke Burke — The magazine interviews the Rank host about breast feeding with fake ones, shooting guns and her three failed engagements. And they take some pictures of her, too.

• NYC's Steve Marshall and the Deputies Strip Down in Times Square — One of the most fun bands in New York gets down to their skivvies with the Naked Cowboy. You could do a lot worse that catch one of their mostly free, high-energy shows featuring a mix of rock/funk/Motown cover songs.

• Submit Nominations for the 2003 Weblog Awards — At least this one doesn't charge for consideration. I've worked for several companies who would pay hundreds of dollars per category submission just to be considered for advertising/online media awards. Now that's a scam I gotta get into someday.

Who's Got Tickets (and a Good Story)?

You may claim to have seen Michael Jackson in concert in 1984 — with Elvis, Madonna and Beethoven opening — but do you have the ticket stub to prove it?

If you do, you're a prime candidate for the Ticket Stub Project a collection of scanned ticket stubs (duh) and accompanying stories from people just like you. (Well, maybe not just like you. You know, without the porn addiction.)

Now people, if you want someone to read about your experiences, make 'em interesting. Don't title them, "Worth the Price," which is how I would describe a recent purchase of Chapstick. Call it something good, like "The Reacharound in Margaritaville" or "Bruce Springsteen, My Breasts and 50,00 Friends." Otherwise I ain't gonna click on it.

The site is just getting started, and maybe I'll contibute on of my own (1986 World Series Game 6? Michael Jordan's Double-Nickel? Jim Leyritz' 15th-inning HR in the 1995 playoffs? Tom Seaver's 300th win? The fat bitch I wanted to kill at a Mary Chapin Carpenter concert? The Fallen Angel video girl at the Poison concert?), but the fear here is that people are going to confuse "story" with "whatever boring words I type." I know that the same bloggers who waste our time with their cat's health update and grandma's birthday bash are going to drag down a good idea with stories about the reclamation of youth or some other bullshit Moody Blues experience.

For now, the stories and scans are categorized into Performances, Contests, etc., which is OK, but not as valuable as if the categories truly separated the good from the bad, like Led To Sex, Got Arrested Afterward and There Were Drunk Chicks Everywhere.

There's even a guide to taking a good digital pic of your tickets. The same rules hold true if you're snapping close-ups of your privates to send to potenial stalker victims.

Other Web Finds:

• Boy Scout Merit Badges — Reminisce about the "feel good" times spent with a troop counselor and a group of 11-year-old boys with this database of awards for such achievements as Wilderness Survival, Stamp Collecting and Helping Counselor McSorley Adjust His Belt Buckle a Lot (not pictured).

• The Smoking Gun's Favorite Mugshots of 2002 — Let's take a trip downtown to see the sights... of the poor, the tired and the just plain ugly.

• Happy Tree Friends — From the creators of the legendary Napster Bad! cartoon, come an animated Ren & Stimpy-like series. Perfect for those who enjoy seeing an anteater getting his tongue run over with a cheese grater.

How Would You Rate Alyssa's Nude Scenes?

If you had the choice of watching Meet Prince Charming or Embrace of the Vampire, which would you choose?

The latter, of course, because that's the only one of the two that features Alyssa Milano naked. The other, you should never forget so long as you shall live, contains a scene in which former Baywatch Eurotrash-looking guy David Charvet drops a towel and exposes his bare ass. Don't let the Blockbuster guy talk you into this one. When you return it, he'll have a copy of Ass Blasters Vol. XIX waiting all rewound for you.

How do I know all this, even though I watched one — count it, one — movie in all of 2002 at my apartment (Caddyshack)? Because I recently discovered the Celebrity Nudity Database, a portal of all things Skinemax-worthy, with each nude scene reviewed by guys with the hairiest palms this side of Chewbacca.

For example, the Spider-Man page contains reviews of an apparent alleyway rescue scene that contains a mixture of water and Kirsten Dunst's breasts. Said one Ebert-in-waiting: "Her (impressively hard) nipples stick out soooooo far I almost juiced my shorts! WOW!"

The Shannon Tweed page is expectedly overflowing with links to such Joe Bob Briggs Drive-In Theater classics as Hot Dog... The Movie, Possessed by the Night and Indecent Behavior III, which really didn't live up to the standards set by its predecessors.

Let's see what some reviewers have to say about Hot Dog...

• "The part where Shannon drags her breasts across the fellow's body while straightening up to mount him is hot, hot, hot."

• "If you like nice jugs... well there they are staring at you in the face. You can't go wrong when Shannon takes off her clothes to have sex with this young freestyle skier."

• "Even though I'm not straight, even I found this scene to be exceedingly hot. I guess just the sheer exploitation of this lame 1980s flick can be intriguing to anyone."

So the next time your lady wants to stay in for dinner and a movie, tell her you read on a website a great review of Body Shots. The fact that Tara Reid, the Carson Daly hand-me-down whose eyes and wild streak drive me crazy, gets naked in it will be our little secret.

Other Web Finds:

• Timberlake: Britney's a Two-Timer — Ooh, that little Louisiana devil. Justin bemoans that all his relationships break up the same way, but isn't it a bit easier to take when there are 4,000 women banging on your door every night? Take a walk in my shoes, bro.

• Man Legally Named Jack Ass Sues "Jackass" — Man also makes love to wide assortment of farm animals in spare time.

• Amazon.com Customers Review Their Playboy Subscriptions — Visit this page if for no other reason that to read stuff like this: "This is the best magazine ever! As a matter of fact, this is the closest thing to a book that I have ever read. The magazine has nothing but beautiful women. And best of all, WITH NO CLOTHES! That is what makes this magazine great."

Wells Calls 'Nine Motherfucking One One'

Ever wonder why the Yankees were relatively quiet last September concerning the David Wells assault case, not exactly coming to the defense of their pitcher?

Judging from the Smoking Gun's audio and text transcript of Wells' 9-1-1 call, the bloated, boorish, blasted southpaw deserved to get cracked in the teeth, if not before the call then at least afterward.

Show me a bloodied white guy at 4 a.m. and I'll show you the bar he just walked out of. And show me a PR-savvy team like the Yankees having nothing good to say about a player who just got dropped by a 5-7, 150-pounder, and I'll show you a team that knows more to the story than the original report that Wells was "drunk."

On the call alone, he was hammered, abrasive, incomprehensible and acted like the posterboy for prohibition: a guy who lost all control of himself and was making things difficult for others.

I must've missed Wells' public apology for being such a prick to a guy working to save lives in real emergencies.

Also in Sports:

• Yanks Insiders Spill Beans on King George — Former Yanks Reggie Jackson and Lou Piniella — plus Bud Selig and more — share their favorite stories on the man celebrating his 30th anniversary as the Yankees' owner. Mr. October talks about himself, of course, and Sweet Lou shares a funny story about why he didn't bust Don Sutton for cheating. Selig even gets in a zinger.

• Best Sports Video Games of 2002 — A bunch of guys who hope to get laid someday argue the merits of NFL 2K3 and Tiger Woods PGA Tour 2003, which I own, and like 400 others that I do not.

• Dr. Z's Final Regular Season Power Rankings — The Giants finish at No. 7, while San Fran sits at 10. So many people are predicting Big Blue victory this weekend, and Dr. Z is one of 'em.

Review: Grand Theft Auto - Vice City

I'm only 15% done with GTA: Vice City, and I know the best is yet to come, because I haven't yet gotten the main character, Tommy Vercetti, to fuck a hooker and then run her over to get his money back.

No, I'm not kidding.

Something happened to video games between my college graduation in 1994 and Thanksgiving 2002, when I treated myself to a Playstation 2. Back then I was getting my rocks off by throwing bombs from Stan Humphries to Anthony Miller in Tecmo Bowl: Super Bowl. Now I'm throwing bombs at mall-walking grandmas, Latino gangsters and Miami beach combers — unless I have a rifle handy, in which case I might take one shot at their domes and turn their necks into geysers of blood. (And, of course, steal their money when I'm done.)

The game is described as "open-experience" — meaning there's no absolute script to follow — though one does have to complete certain missions that include motorcycles, strippers, boats, sniper rifles, helicopters, Molotov cocktails and, yes, drive-by shootings in golf carts. All that's left out is a birthday clown to assassinate.

I'm at the point where I have passed a few missions, and since they keep getting harder and harder for me, I've used every cheat code I could find to give myself an unfair advantage — and I still have to run missions 12 times before I finally complete them. What's worse is that I'm spending part of my adult life doing this. Smoking crack makes more sense than this but, like a good catfight or a Rodney Dangerfield movie, I just can't pull myself away.

GTA: Vice City Links

• Vice City FAQs & Guides — Even if you do not own the game, you much check out one of the 12 walkthroughs that are among the most scarily detailed reports of anything I have ever seen online.

• Vice City Message Board — Five new topics a minute are posted by Unabombers-in-waiting, taking a break from looking at internet porn for a change.

• Vice City Cheat Codes — I use as many as I can and I still suck at this game. To be quite honest, I'm kinda relieved about that.

• Collection of Reviews of GTA: Vice City — Everyone loves it. It's the Casablanca of video games, with more guys in suits to maim and rob.

Happy New Year, Now Get Cracking

Congratulations to everyone for making it to another year. The sun will come up each of the next 365 days, and while we cannot always control which way the wind blows, only we control how we deal with it.

From two of my favorite songs: Before you know it, the future is the past; don't be late for your life.

I'm not too big on New Year's resolutions. I have the same one every year: be happy. I struggle with that — mightily at times — but I'm giving it another shot.

Here are some web guides to more conventional resolutions...

• The Stop Smoking Center's Online Quit Program — Plenty of tips on keeping your life nicotine-free. Also check out QUITNET, an online community of people who are battling the vices of cigarettes.

• Men's Health's Guaranteed Weight Loss Program — There is no secret to weight loss. Diet and exercise, period. And you don't have to spend your life in the gym or be a vegetarian to fit into sportier clothes. HowStuffWorks.com's "The Idea Behind Dieting" shows the simple math behind losing weight.

• Cut Down on Your Drinking — A few suggestions for ridding your lifestyle of too much booze. One of my favorite books is Pete Hamill's "A Drinking Life," in which he wrote how he quit drinking at a New Year's Eve party when, after realizing how much of his life he missed because of alcohol, he put down his drink and said, "I'm never fucking doing this again." I love drinking, but I don't enjoy being drunk. I go too far too often.

• Tips for Keeping Your New Year's Resolutions — Keep the list short, keep them attainable and do them for the right reasons.